Rian and the four others with him were run through the complex to their new
home. What Rian had thought was a military style barracks was really
individual rooms that might as well have been cells. They were made of
stone, lit by a single candle and furnished only with a single straw
mattress with a blanket.
"Men in here. Choose a room. Training clothes will be there for you. Leave your old clothes outside the door. Essedaria" He looked at the girl with them, "Follow me. The women are housed on the opposite side of the complex." Looking very lost, the girl followed him at a jog.
Rian entered a room towards the end of the barracks and drew the curtain shut behind him. He discarded his ratty loincloth and put the new one issued to him on. He drew the rough cotton of the breeches on gingerly, pain from his sunburned skin making him wince. He followed suit with the fraying tunic. There was a black leather belt that he drew around his waist, cinching the fabric tight, as well as thin stockings and worn black leather boots.
Rian walked back out to see the three other slaves he'd been bought with emerge in their uniforms as well. Deciding that it would be better to endure this with friends, Rian approached them. "I'm Rian." He announced. They looked at him, their faces ranging from the uncaring dullness that came from shock, to annoyance.
"I'm called Thomas." Said a man on the end finally. He was three inches shorter than Rian, with black stubble growing back on his head and clear blue eyes.
"I'm Samuel, but just Sam, if you please." Said the shocked one in the middle, finally recovering. He was as bald as Rian himself, with clear green eyes.
Rian turned to the last man and gave him a questioning look. "My name is Zacharel, though you will call me Auctorati." He spat at last, contemptuously.
The man was Rian's own height, but Rian was not intimidated by him. Just annoyed. "And why should we do that, Master Zacharel?" He replied easily. Rian was down to his knees suddenly as the man's fist connected with the side of his face.
"Slave filth, you aren't worthy to utter my name." Snarled Zacharel, glaring dangerously at Rian. Zacharel was much stronger than he looked.
Rian's eyes narrowed as he staggered to his feet, his fists clenching. "Last time I checked, we're both slaves." Zacharel swore at him and charged.
"That's enough." A calm voice stopped the man in his tracks. Rian turned to see a bare-chested man dressed in gray breeches with long blonde hair to his shoulders and dark brown eyes. The man stood around 5' 8" but exuded power. "Zacharel, you may be Auctorati, but that matters nothing in Ludus Kapurna. We determine rank by who is the best, not by who was slave or free."
"I will not be associated with the slave filth!" Yelled Zacharel, furious.
"Well, then you gave your oath to the wrong Ludus. Go run three laps around the compound. Now." He growled this last part when Zacharel hesitated. Zacharel took off at a run. "You all right, gladiator?" The man asked in Tortallan, walking over to Rian. He grasped Rian by the chin and turned his face so he could inspect the bruise better. Gently, he began prodding at it, checking for a break or fracture.
"Fine." Gasped Rian, wincing in pain as the man touched a tender spot. "How did I make 'im so angry?" Satisfied there was no serious injury, the man let Rian's chin go and helped him stand.
"He's Auctorati – It means that he was a free citizen that was degraded somehow – debt, a minor crime, made the wrong person angry. He willingly took the Gladiator Oath, and some places see that as meaning he has a higher place than slaves forced to take the Oath. Of course, by that same code he would be lower than a strait volunteer – A citizen with no smear on his name that took the Oath willingly." The man laughed at Rian's face. "Yes, some people willingly take the Oath. I can't explain it... you'll just have to experience it yourself. Come. There's much for you all to do today. Follow me."
He took off at a job, leaving Rian, Thomas, and Sam to follow behind him at a weary lope. "Doesn't anyone walk around here?" Rian gasped at the man's back. The man's let loose a merry gwaff of laughter, though his feet never slowed.
"You can walk if you want – but a gladiator with endurance is a gladiator that lives another day. And I won't wait for you, so you'd have to learn your own way around." Finally, he came to a stop in front of a large oval, filled with sand and ringed by a wooden fence.
"Well, then, boys. I'm Kieu Long-reach, formerly known as Swift-fist in the arena. I'll be your training master, and I'll test you today. We're just waiting for, ah... here she is." The girl from the cart was trotting up behind a harsh looking woman in the gladiator's uniform. "Good of you to join us, Essedaria Nadeia. I was just introducing myself to your year mates, here. Now as we've already met, I'll continue."
Nadeia blushed slightly, and walked up to stand beside Rian. She was black haired with dark skin, a mixture of Bahzir and Tortallan, he would guess. Her blue eyes were clouded with apprehension, though her face remained smooth and unemotional. She came level with the bottom of his chin – around six feet tall or so, and was lean and muscular. She looked as if she had ridden horses before she was taken, though he saw no weapons scars on her hands. Her high cheekbones and full lips made her beautiful, but her eyes were haunting.
Rian tore his gaze from Nadeia and paid attention to Kieu. "Each of you will take a wooden sword from the rack at the far side of the arena. Then, you will face me." He grinned. "Don't worry, I wouldn't harm any of the Lanista's slaves this early. Lanista Kara likes her slaves in the best possible condition. Zacharel, since you felt the need to show your prowess so early, you can go first." Kieu gazed to the left of Rian. Upon turning, he discovered the Auctorati had arrived, gasping for air, the sweat dripping down his face and staining his dark tunic. The man clenched his jaw tightly, then walked across the arena and grabbed a wooden sword.
He turned to face Kieu and bowed, mocking Kieu as a coward did – not enough for the casual watchers to pick up, nor enough to justify Kieu's full wrath, but enough to humiliate the man. Kieu didn't take kindly to being humiliated.
He let Zacharel think he was doing well for a little while – Kieu feigned difficulty in dodging the blows that were ineptly delivered. He even allowed Zacharel to hit him once or twice. Then Kieu began to laugh, and switched his sword to his off hand.
"Come on lad, come at me then." He chortled at Zacharel. Infuriated, Zacharel charged Kieu, swinging wildly. Yawning, Kieu parried easily while talking to the class, informing them how to rectify every mistake Zacharel was making in a calm, cutting drawl. Finally, growing tired of tormenting Zacharel, he did a quick move, too fast for Rian to catch, and disarmed him.
"This is what you're learning here – How to disarm and disable. The crowd loves deaths. You'll be their heroes when you let blood, when you kill your opponent. But the latisti will not appreciate it at all. Kill enough without disabling them first, and you might find yourself chained in your cell while two thugs break your knees and elbows."
He turned and regarded them all with cool brown eyes. "Most of you will die – die early in your careers. Half of you won't live past your first match. But if you" He considered his phrasing for a moment "... If you have the determination, skill, and the luck of Kyprioth to survive the amateur circuit, you will have a much higher chance of earning your freedom."
Rian's face stilled and his eyes locked onto Kieu's face. Kieu smiled when he saw their reactions. "Yes. Perhaps now you see why Gladiators give their all. Not just for survival, but because you are the only slaves that can earn their freedom. You have a chance to get out, and to be rich and famous. But I've said enough for today. You" He pointed at Sam, "Grab a sword from the second rack, and come over here."
Nervously, Sam faced Kieu. About and inch shorter than Kieu, standing five feet seven inches, Sam was slight of frame and angled, like a cat. Kieu slashed at him and Sam nimbly skipped aside, slashing back with a startling speed. Kieu blocked him, barely, and grinned. After several minutes, Sam too was disarmed.
So it went with the rest of them. Each tried themselves, with varying degrees of success, against Kieu. Each was quickly and thoroughly dispatched, with a chuckle or a grunt of approval, by Kieu. Until it was Rian's turn.
"And so, our genial giant." Kieu grinned and tossed Rian a sword suited to his height and breadth. Rian turned to face Kieu, holding his sword as he had seen the others. Without warning, the man cut at his middle, his side, then his legs. Hurriedly Rian parried again and again, but there was no stopping Kieu. His sword flew, just like the rest, and his vague notions that the Gods would help him through this disappeared. He was on his own.
Kieu regarded Rian with a thoughtful, stern eye. "You're not holding back are you? Pretending that you don't know how to fight so that you'll have longer 'till you get put in the arena?"
Rian blinked, blushed slightly, and shook his head.
"Horse turds!" Roared Kieu with a kind grin. "You mean to tell me a boy of your size wasn't snatched up by the guards? I don't believe that."
Rian shrugged, looking slightly abashed. "I wanted tah be a soldier." He didn't have the extreme accent of his father, having been schooled on Queen Thayet's orders, but he did have some. "My father said I wasn't allowed tah be a soldier. If I joined th' army or th' guard, he said I'd be dead tah th' family."
Kieu nodded, satisfied with the explanation. The Gladiators were led at a jog, back towards their barracks... in a roundabout sort of way. Round about the compound three times. The sun had just set when they arrived.
"Gladiators, you rise and fall with the sun. As the days grow and shrink, so do the hours you keep. Good night. Sleep well, for tomorrow your true training begins." Kieu grinned, waved, and Rian went into his cell and collapsed on his mat. Before three heart beats he was asleep.
A/N: I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this, 'cause I'm not sure if it's at all good. Should I continue? I've got a basic plot outlined, but do you want me to go on? Please, review and tell me so.
"Men in here. Choose a room. Training clothes will be there for you. Leave your old clothes outside the door. Essedaria" He looked at the girl with them, "Follow me. The women are housed on the opposite side of the complex." Looking very lost, the girl followed him at a jog.
Rian entered a room towards the end of the barracks and drew the curtain shut behind him. He discarded his ratty loincloth and put the new one issued to him on. He drew the rough cotton of the breeches on gingerly, pain from his sunburned skin making him wince. He followed suit with the fraying tunic. There was a black leather belt that he drew around his waist, cinching the fabric tight, as well as thin stockings and worn black leather boots.
Rian walked back out to see the three other slaves he'd been bought with emerge in their uniforms as well. Deciding that it would be better to endure this with friends, Rian approached them. "I'm Rian." He announced. They looked at him, their faces ranging from the uncaring dullness that came from shock, to annoyance.
"I'm called Thomas." Said a man on the end finally. He was three inches shorter than Rian, with black stubble growing back on his head and clear blue eyes.
"I'm Samuel, but just Sam, if you please." Said the shocked one in the middle, finally recovering. He was as bald as Rian himself, with clear green eyes.
Rian turned to the last man and gave him a questioning look. "My name is Zacharel, though you will call me Auctorati." He spat at last, contemptuously.
The man was Rian's own height, but Rian was not intimidated by him. Just annoyed. "And why should we do that, Master Zacharel?" He replied easily. Rian was down to his knees suddenly as the man's fist connected with the side of his face.
"Slave filth, you aren't worthy to utter my name." Snarled Zacharel, glaring dangerously at Rian. Zacharel was much stronger than he looked.
Rian's eyes narrowed as he staggered to his feet, his fists clenching. "Last time I checked, we're both slaves." Zacharel swore at him and charged.
"That's enough." A calm voice stopped the man in his tracks. Rian turned to see a bare-chested man dressed in gray breeches with long blonde hair to his shoulders and dark brown eyes. The man stood around 5' 8" but exuded power. "Zacharel, you may be Auctorati, but that matters nothing in Ludus Kapurna. We determine rank by who is the best, not by who was slave or free."
"I will not be associated with the slave filth!" Yelled Zacharel, furious.
"Well, then you gave your oath to the wrong Ludus. Go run three laps around the compound. Now." He growled this last part when Zacharel hesitated. Zacharel took off at a run. "You all right, gladiator?" The man asked in Tortallan, walking over to Rian. He grasped Rian by the chin and turned his face so he could inspect the bruise better. Gently, he began prodding at it, checking for a break or fracture.
"Fine." Gasped Rian, wincing in pain as the man touched a tender spot. "How did I make 'im so angry?" Satisfied there was no serious injury, the man let Rian's chin go and helped him stand.
"He's Auctorati – It means that he was a free citizen that was degraded somehow – debt, a minor crime, made the wrong person angry. He willingly took the Gladiator Oath, and some places see that as meaning he has a higher place than slaves forced to take the Oath. Of course, by that same code he would be lower than a strait volunteer – A citizen with no smear on his name that took the Oath willingly." The man laughed at Rian's face. "Yes, some people willingly take the Oath. I can't explain it... you'll just have to experience it yourself. Come. There's much for you all to do today. Follow me."
He took off at a job, leaving Rian, Thomas, and Sam to follow behind him at a weary lope. "Doesn't anyone walk around here?" Rian gasped at the man's back. The man's let loose a merry gwaff of laughter, though his feet never slowed.
"You can walk if you want – but a gladiator with endurance is a gladiator that lives another day. And I won't wait for you, so you'd have to learn your own way around." Finally, he came to a stop in front of a large oval, filled with sand and ringed by a wooden fence.
"Well, then, boys. I'm Kieu Long-reach, formerly known as Swift-fist in the arena. I'll be your training master, and I'll test you today. We're just waiting for, ah... here she is." The girl from the cart was trotting up behind a harsh looking woman in the gladiator's uniform. "Good of you to join us, Essedaria Nadeia. I was just introducing myself to your year mates, here. Now as we've already met, I'll continue."
Nadeia blushed slightly, and walked up to stand beside Rian. She was black haired with dark skin, a mixture of Bahzir and Tortallan, he would guess. Her blue eyes were clouded with apprehension, though her face remained smooth and unemotional. She came level with the bottom of his chin – around six feet tall or so, and was lean and muscular. She looked as if she had ridden horses before she was taken, though he saw no weapons scars on her hands. Her high cheekbones and full lips made her beautiful, but her eyes were haunting.
Rian tore his gaze from Nadeia and paid attention to Kieu. "Each of you will take a wooden sword from the rack at the far side of the arena. Then, you will face me." He grinned. "Don't worry, I wouldn't harm any of the Lanista's slaves this early. Lanista Kara likes her slaves in the best possible condition. Zacharel, since you felt the need to show your prowess so early, you can go first." Kieu gazed to the left of Rian. Upon turning, he discovered the Auctorati had arrived, gasping for air, the sweat dripping down his face and staining his dark tunic. The man clenched his jaw tightly, then walked across the arena and grabbed a wooden sword.
He turned to face Kieu and bowed, mocking Kieu as a coward did – not enough for the casual watchers to pick up, nor enough to justify Kieu's full wrath, but enough to humiliate the man. Kieu didn't take kindly to being humiliated.
He let Zacharel think he was doing well for a little while – Kieu feigned difficulty in dodging the blows that were ineptly delivered. He even allowed Zacharel to hit him once or twice. Then Kieu began to laugh, and switched his sword to his off hand.
"Come on lad, come at me then." He chortled at Zacharel. Infuriated, Zacharel charged Kieu, swinging wildly. Yawning, Kieu parried easily while talking to the class, informing them how to rectify every mistake Zacharel was making in a calm, cutting drawl. Finally, growing tired of tormenting Zacharel, he did a quick move, too fast for Rian to catch, and disarmed him.
"This is what you're learning here – How to disarm and disable. The crowd loves deaths. You'll be their heroes when you let blood, when you kill your opponent. But the latisti will not appreciate it at all. Kill enough without disabling them first, and you might find yourself chained in your cell while two thugs break your knees and elbows."
He turned and regarded them all with cool brown eyes. "Most of you will die – die early in your careers. Half of you won't live past your first match. But if you" He considered his phrasing for a moment "... If you have the determination, skill, and the luck of Kyprioth to survive the amateur circuit, you will have a much higher chance of earning your freedom."
Rian's face stilled and his eyes locked onto Kieu's face. Kieu smiled when he saw their reactions. "Yes. Perhaps now you see why Gladiators give their all. Not just for survival, but because you are the only slaves that can earn their freedom. You have a chance to get out, and to be rich and famous. But I've said enough for today. You" He pointed at Sam, "Grab a sword from the second rack, and come over here."
Nervously, Sam faced Kieu. About and inch shorter than Kieu, standing five feet seven inches, Sam was slight of frame and angled, like a cat. Kieu slashed at him and Sam nimbly skipped aside, slashing back with a startling speed. Kieu blocked him, barely, and grinned. After several minutes, Sam too was disarmed.
So it went with the rest of them. Each tried themselves, with varying degrees of success, against Kieu. Each was quickly and thoroughly dispatched, with a chuckle or a grunt of approval, by Kieu. Until it was Rian's turn.
"And so, our genial giant." Kieu grinned and tossed Rian a sword suited to his height and breadth. Rian turned to face Kieu, holding his sword as he had seen the others. Without warning, the man cut at his middle, his side, then his legs. Hurriedly Rian parried again and again, but there was no stopping Kieu. His sword flew, just like the rest, and his vague notions that the Gods would help him through this disappeared. He was on his own.
Kieu regarded Rian with a thoughtful, stern eye. "You're not holding back are you? Pretending that you don't know how to fight so that you'll have longer 'till you get put in the arena?"
Rian blinked, blushed slightly, and shook his head.
"Horse turds!" Roared Kieu with a kind grin. "You mean to tell me a boy of your size wasn't snatched up by the guards? I don't believe that."
Rian shrugged, looking slightly abashed. "I wanted tah be a soldier." He didn't have the extreme accent of his father, having been schooled on Queen Thayet's orders, but he did have some. "My father said I wasn't allowed tah be a soldier. If I joined th' army or th' guard, he said I'd be dead tah th' family."
Kieu nodded, satisfied with the explanation. The Gladiators were led at a jog, back towards their barracks... in a roundabout sort of way. Round about the compound three times. The sun had just set when they arrived.
"Gladiators, you rise and fall with the sun. As the days grow and shrink, so do the hours you keep. Good night. Sleep well, for tomorrow your true training begins." Kieu grinned, waved, and Rian went into his cell and collapsed on his mat. Before three heart beats he was asleep.
A/N: I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this, 'cause I'm not sure if it's at all good. Should I continue? I've got a basic plot outlined, but do you want me to go on? Please, review and tell me so.
