Chapter 3

Hilde followed behind the cloaked figure out of the darkness of the arena and into the light of day. From much past experience she didn't even bother to shield her eyes from the glare. They were now on the streets of the city, Timbian. The guards had long since left them on their own. After a few more paces, the man in the cloak pulled off his hood.

"Wow! It was hot down there!" he said in a cheery voice. Hilde's eyes widened in dismay. This was the same young man who had helped her in the arena.

"You're … you're…"

"Duo Maxwell… warrior extraordinaire. I saw you in the arena, thought I'd see what was going on." Hilde's jaw had dropped as her chained arms fell at her sides. It was quite an amusing sight. Duo chose to ignore it.

"Now hold very still." Hilde was about to ask why, but he suddenly pulled out his scythe and took a swing at her arms. Hilde's instinct kicked in. She quickly jumped back and forward. Before Duo knew what was happening, he was on the ground with Hilde's face placed firmly on his throat. She was barely even breathing hard.

"Whoa, what the…"

"Make one move and you're dead," she hissed. "I've already had enough of being attacked for today." Duo's eyes seemed confused for a moment and then irritated.

"Attack you? I was going to cut off the shackles!"

"What?" cried Hilde in shock.

"Get offa' me!" Hilde backed up and let him get up. He jumped up and dusted off his rear, all the time glaring at her.

"If you wanted me to get them off myself, I would have!"

"What are you talking about?" Hilde lifted her hand it seemed as if a pair of keys had suddenly appeared in her palm. Duo's eyes widened. "I have my ways," said Hilde with a smile. With a few swift moves the shackles fell away and Hilde was free. She rubbed her wrists gingerly and turned back towards the warrior.

"What did you want with me?" she said tensely. Her eyes were weary as Duo circled her as if examining her. Hilde refused to be intimidated. Being an ex-slave, it was hard to make her lose her composure. Duo was examining her, with a hand under his chin and his arm crossed over his stomach. After an eternity he lowered his arms and grinned.

"Want to get something to eat?" Hilde was visibly shocked.

"No! What I want is to…" Duo wouldn't let her finish. E merely shrugged and turned to leave.

"Your loss, talk to ya' later." He turned and began to make his way towards the town square. Hilde stood in shock for a moment, then tripped to catch up with her savior. When she had done this she gave him a terrible glower, knowing there was nothing else for her to do.

"What's your game?" she growled. He continued on with a maddeningly content look on his face.

"You decided to come then?" she was about to rip her hair out.

"Do you know I'm about ready to throw you into the river?" He only smiled and led the way to a pub, not saying anything more.

Cathy was staring at the floor as her friends were filed out of the cell and shoved down a corridor… away from her. She closed her eyes in anticipation as the door was slammed shut and the guards turned to the wounded. This was it. They were going to kill her now. To her surprise, the slaves were all ordered to move down the corridor in the opposite direction. Torches lit their way. They passed several doors when they were finally shoved inside a dark room. The darkness enveloped them as the door was slammed behind them. The silence that followed was eerie and caused Cathy to shiver in the darkness. They must have been there for hours before the door was thrown open. Cathy shielded her eyes and she was suddenly being lifted by that arm and behind ragged out. Cathy looked over her shoulder at the remaining people. They were unmoving. Dead. They were dead. Only a few survived from the cell… barely. Cathy's vision was blurring as they finally arrived at a door. Just as the underground physician appeared, her vision blacked out.

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The young blond warrior sat inside a pub outside of the arena. The games had been postponed despite that they were ordered to continue. The warriors had withdrawn until the slaves returned. They were anxious to continue on their fight. Dorothy of Catalonia, the warrior village of the south, sat alone in the darkness of a corner. She watched with feral eyes as the pub moved with life around her. A quiet conversation caught her attention at a table nearby.

"Did you hear of those slaves?"

"The ones at the games? I was there!"

"I heard they are transferring them to a different location for security."

"I bet they're going to interrogate them…" Dorothy knew of the relocation of the slaves and was actually thinking of paying a visit to the slaves along the way to their new prison.

There was a reason as in to why Dorothy of Catalonia was so interested in these slaves. They were using a technique that had only been rumored about… the Desperation Technique. Any warrior in their right mind would be very interested in this technique. It was said to be almost impossible to defeat in a one-on-one combat or even a five-on-one battle. Maybe if she went to check out those slaves and interrogate one herself, she would be able to gain some knowledge. Basically, she wanted to piss off the law system here. She hated how everything was run in this city. From the poverty all the way to the way the rich flaunted their privileges.

No one noticed Dorothy gathering up her cloak closer to her body, making her way towards the door. At this time of year the city was filled with thousands of warriors, so no one ever gave each other a second look. Everyone was too afraid of possibly angering a real warrior so everyone stays a good distance from each other. Every once in a while there was the idiot with a hot head. It's not very surprising to find some warriors already beaten before reaching the arena.

Dorothy moved smoothly through the streets of the crowded city. The hood was held close around her face. She knew where her destination was and she did not falter as she approached the lower entrance of the prison, where the slaves were being held. She leaned her back to the wall behind her. Crossing her arms, she waited for the slaves to emerge. Her eyes rose up to look at the setting sun and her gaze softened. She missed her home desperately. It's been several years since she had last seen the horizon with the sun peaking out over the rim of the horizon above the village.

The games were just attempts to be accepted back into her village. At the age of 16, she was challenged to fight against another girl a few years older than her. Her name was Une. It was for the attentions of a young man. His name was Treize. He was handsome, powerful, and the son of the village leader. Every girl swooned over his devastatingly charming smile and ocean blue eyes. Dorothy would scoff every time she would recall the blatant flirting several of the young women did to gain his attention. Finally it was only a match between Une and herself. Their village was a strong warrior village. Problems were solved with bruit strength. It's really funny at how quickly she forgot what the prize of the fight looked like. She had thought she was in love. Then she saw the small look of dissatisfaction when he saw who won the battle and her dreams were shattered. The illusion of him loving her back was snuffed away like smoke in the breeze. Une had been lying on the ground and Dorothy had stared at her with tears gleaming in her eyes. Her teeth were bared. She had come to realize Treize's true feelings and they were not lying with her. Everyone in the village who was watching began to chant for her to finish Une off, Dorothy, not knowing what else to do, ran and when she returned a day later rocks and rotten food were thrown at her. She had not returned since. Well, she would show them! She would be Patron and be welcomed with open arms.

Dorothy's point of interest was now coming into view from deep within the barrier. An old cart with high bars of wood, caging the slaves in the back, awaited outside. There were not as many as what she remembered leaving the arena, but she figured that they were either dead, or going to be. The guard made a vulgar remark and spat on a young woman. Her amber eyes flared for a moment, but instead of lashing back, returned her gaze to the bottom of the cart. Dorothy assessed the situation as she slowly came within view of the moving cart. There were two guards, not including the driver. Dorothy felt disgust well up as she saw how poorly they were guarded.

There were about 20 in the cat, each seated on the h ay on the floor or on small benches rimming the edges of the bars. No one paid her a second glance as she approached, figuring she was only another traveler. One slave looked up though and looked immediately anxious. It was a young man with muddy blond hair and sky blue eyes.

Lucrezia noticed Quatre's sudden stiff posture and leaned towards him. "What's wrong?" she whispered. Quatre's eyes shot back towards the traveler and before he could say anything the figure burst forward with shocking speed. The guard in the back of the wagon fell with a slit throat. The driver halted the cart in surprise and the horses brayed in irritation. The other guard got one hoarse cry out before joining his companion's fate. He fell against the side of the cart where a hand shot out from inside and grabbed his collar. He stared with his dying breaths into those same amber eyes and then fell as Natria spat on his face, just as he had done to her.

The driver panicking, leapt from the wagon and took off for the woods, but it was as if a knife suddenly appeared in his back. He went down with a stunned thud. Silence followed as everyone stared at this hooded figure. He turned around and then made his way towards them. They all tensed with his every step. Just as he reached for the padlock, there came a loud crash followed by a shout.

Dorothy cursed as she threw open the door after she smashed the lock away. The soldiers appeared from the trees further up the road. Just as Dorothy grabbed hold of one of the slaves, a storm of arrows came flying by, barley skimming her head and showing her identity. Then she took off, dragging along the one she had grabbed. As her back was turned an arrow hit its mark, ramming its way into her shoulder. Her jaw clenched as she focused her attention away from her pain. Quatre stared at the shaft of the arrow protruding from his rescuer's shoulder. Shouts could be heard from behind and Quatre turned and saw the guards beating down the defenseless slaves, shoving them back into the cart. Others were ordered to go after the escaped pair. They didn't stop running until they reached the dark alleyways of the city. Quatre was still struggling to catch his breath when the voice that spoke shocked him. It was feminine.

"Break the arrow's shaft," she hissed as another wave of pain hit her. The sides of her hood even now shadowed her face. When Quatre only remained in shock, she barked at him again. He finally jumped into action. He hesitantly reached up and grabbed hold of the arrow. He heard the small intake of breath as he made a quick movement and snapped the arrow in half. A groan made its way out of his rescuer's throat. As soon as it was broken Dorothy spun around, snatched the piece from Quatre's hand and proceeded to throw it into the darkness. Her left shoulder burned as she turned back to the slave. With her right hand holding her wounded shoulder tenderly, she grabbed Quatre's own and began to run. Not once did Quatre catch a glimpse of her face. They proceeded to run through the darkness.