The woman remained hidden in the corner for the entire voyage, keeping herself away from the sight of others, especially the men who had bought her. She had no memory of herself, not even after an entire month of sea voyage, stopping and starting where she made no attempt to escape. Where would she run? There was no hope for her on her own until she knew exactly where it was she should be running to.
Several of the weaker men died on that voyage and she was disgusted how, in their hunger, the survivors would prey off the human flesh as if it were the meat of a rabbit. She cowered behind Lamorak, who kept lusting men at bay with his large frame, his strength outmatching all those who squatted in that dark, dirty and miserable little hole though whenever he slept, the woman would defend herself with snarls, kicking and punching at the men until Lamorak would wake up and rescue her. Soon they learned to simply leave her be as the powerfully built man had snapped one man's neck to give the others warning.
"Do you still remember nothing?" Lamorak asked and the woman sighed.
"It is all darkness, I can see nothing." She touched the spot on the back of her head where previously there had been a cut but it had healed completely in only a few days along with the fever, which only lasted a night.
"Then what name shall I call you?" He asked her and the woman frowned in thought, trying to think of something. In the end she shrugged.
"I know no names save yours. All I remember is how to speak this language and another." Lamorak arched an eyebrow so she switched tongues. "Somehow this feels like the more natural language for me. It is soothing." She murmured to herself and Lamorak gave a grim smile.
"It is a nice language." He decided after a moment. "Try to remember something, perhaps then you will know where to go if you ever escape."
"Escape?" In answer Lamorak lifted his arm and showed her the tattoos stamped onto his bicep, the roman numerals running down his arm with a few letters also.
"I am branded. You are not. You can still be free." The woman took in a slow, steady breath then nodded her head.
"We shall both be free." She decided. "I may not remember anything yet but I know that I have honour. You have helped me and now, I shall help you. We shall leave this place together when I know where my family is. Then we can go to them."
But she did not remember. For many days she would try her hardest to summon memories to her but none would come. She felt like a shell, empty and void of who she was. When they came into the final port, the woman lifted the hood of her cloak to cover her hair but thinned her lips by pressing them firmly together, scowling slightly to make her face look less feminine.
At the crack of the whip they were herded out like animals, wrists shackled at the door which bound them all together. "Move you sons of whores!" They all moved forwards, following their captors from the ship and down onto the docks where they were loaded into a wagon cell and carted away to the nearest stadium which was not far. They could hear the chanting from the ship.
"What are they going to do to us?" One man whimpered, clawing at his shackles to try and pry them off. "I do not want to die!" The tattoos on his arm told the woman that he too was a slave.
"Be silent. You will anger them." Lamorak growled but the man continued to whimper quietly, rocking as his large ears turned red with fear. The woman looked to her companion.
"Can you fight?" He nodded.
"This is not the first stadium I have been forced to fight in." He said to her quietly. "I have been to many. I was born in Rome to a family of slaves and I was taken away at a young age to be raised as a warrior." Lamorak sighed. "I will do my best to protect you." She smirked slightly.
"Something tells me that I am used to protecting myself but thank you, I would be glad to have you by my side." Slowly she frowned at him. "But why are you doing this?" He shrugged.
"Men are animals. I am considered the savage for the colour of my skin." He looked at her coolly. "But I can prove them wrong." She nodded her head slowly then looked down, hunching over into a manly slouch to avoid attention, her eyes drifting down to her right boot where she knew a dagger lay hidden. She had discovered it a few days after waking but had told no one, keeping the weapon to herself. She would have told Lamorak but she feared that someone might overhear her and then try to take it away, so her mouth had remained shut.
The violent jolt of the wagon stopped and when someone flung the cell door open, they were dragged out forcibly and thrown forwards into lines before being escorted towards a flight of steps that led down into the stadium pits, where other slave gladiators were being held in their cell rooms, lining the walkway.
They jeered and spat at the newcomers, one trying to grab the woman's hood but she pulled back in time, sending a dark snarl his way before walking forwards. Lamorak kept his pace steady, unfazed by the insults being hurled his way for his different colouring.
They were separated into halves and the woman purposefully slipped into Lamorak's group before they could dictate she join the other, remaining unseen as she quietly slipped through the shadows like they were a veil, keeping her out of sight until finally, the shackles were removed. "Arm yourselves. Any one of you tries to escape, you're dead. Any one tries to attack, you're dead. Doesn't matter any ways, you'll all be dead eventually. Some sooner than others." Their keeper snarled and the woman turned towards the rack of blunt weapons. "Except you, keep your cloak on and hood up. Don't let anyone see your face. It'll attract more visitors."
"We only just got here, you can't expect us to fight!" The whining man practically shrieked, stinging the woman's sensitive ears. "We're hungry and tired, we won't last two minutes out there!"
"Be glad it's more than one. Now arm yourself!" The keeper shoved the man backwards, sprawling him to the floor then placed a well-aimed kick to his gut, doubling him over until he curled up into a ball and turned over, protecting his head as the keeper kicked him again then left them all to prepare.
The woman turned away from the weaker man, not wanting to think about what was to come. Strangely she felt calm, like she knew what was going to happen but the thought of death did not bother her. If only she had her bow…
Her bow? She frowned, looking to her hands which were rough from hard work and laborious days. Since when did women carry bows? She looked to the rack of bows, all poorly kept but somehow she could tell which one was the best, so she selected it then shouldered a quiver, instantly feeling more comfortable. She took it over to the target and stood back twenty paces, the other men sneering at her.
"Try it boy, give us all a laugh." The strange woman whipped an arrow from the quiver and with lightning fast reflexes, pulled it back on the string and shot. The arrow darted forwards and struck the straw target dead centre and she blinked in shock. How had she done that?
"When the hands know the handling of a weapon well enough, they no longer need memory or thoughts to guide them." Lamorak said to her and she turned around, gripping it tightly before relaxing. She saluted him then decided that this was going to be the weapon she would use. It seemed she knew how to shoot and shoot well, or at least, her hands did. Just to be sure she turned her body at an angle and fired three more arrows, hitting the middle ring every time before she grinned wickedly then added a few more arrows to her quiver.
Lamorak had chosen a spear and round shield of wood and iron. He had also strapped on some leather armour to protect his torso and chest from glancing blows but the woman saw nothing that would fit her suitably, so she merely elected to go as she was. She would give them a fight. Something in her mind told her that this was what she was born for.
"Are you afraid?" She shook her head.
"I know how to fight. Somehow, I just know." She answered in a low voice. Lamorak placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.
"Stay close. I will watch your back if you will watch mine." She chuckled.
"I will watch all fronts, brother." Her reply made him smile slightly before they turned and looked towards the metal hatching which began to lift, sliding upwards to show the way into the arena. The woman and her companion led the way, keepers entering the room and ushering the others into line with long spears and low growls. They stopped when they faced another iron gate, which remained firmly shut as the one behind them locked them into the walkway which sloped upwards, revealing a wide blue sky.
The crowds howled for blood, shouting and bellowing for the fight to begin. Stale ale and rotten vegetables were flung through the bars of their cage, striking them but no one react, save for the ones at the back who flinched and whimpered at every opportunity, muttering prayers to God for his protection.
A group of boys hurled insults as well as lettuce at the woman, calling her things that made her blood boil so she slowly and menacingly turned her hood to face them, her features shadowed from sight and they all went silent, gulping and drawing back so she smirked then slowly looked ahead.
When the gate slid open, they walked forwards, spears jabbing them in the sides to get the reluctant ones moving. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air, the woman walked out but stopped when Lamorak did, remaining at his side.
The crowds stood in the stands that ringed the high walls, heat blazing down upon their bodies whilst the crows circled overhead, cawing as they anticipated the meal they were going to scrounge in only a few moments. The opposite gate was pulled open, two keepers sliding it upwards and several warriors jogged out, lifting their weapons and bellowing to the crowds, thumping their metal clad chests.
"I do not think we will last this." Lamorak sighed. "Two of us against eight of them is too much disadvantage."
"Where is your sense of challenge?" She murmured back to him, not turning her head but fixed her gaze on their opponents as they snarled, twisting their faces into hideous expressions and three or four of the men ran away in fear, trying to climb the walls to escape but keepers pushed them back with their spears, or the crack of a whip lashed at their back.
Taking a slow breath the woman looked to the oversized man lounging on his chair, wearing a white toga and a crimson drape lazily hanging over one arm. He drank deeply from his broad rimmed wine goblet, not even paying attention to what was happening down below him.
"Do not try to shoot them all at once." Lamorak murmured wisely to the woman beside him who twitched slightly in confusion. "They will hate you if you do not give them a good display. If we are to survive this then it is best to gain the love of the public, you are more likely to survive and be treated well."
"I shall do my best." She answered simply, her eyes on the fat Roman. There was little point in shooting him as it would only end in her death and the death of her entire team. The others she did not care about but her vow to help Lamorak escape weighed heavy on her mind and she planned on staying true to her word.
After a few moments the drastically overweight lord sat up, rolling in his seat to strike a gong with a beater and all at once, the fight erupted. Those who did not know how to fight screamed and tried to flee but those who turned their backs were cut down by spears that were flung their way or by the arrow of an enemy archer which the woman instantly focused her attention on.
Deciding to trust in Lamorak's knowledge, she shot one down then let them come to her, keeping her back against Lamorak's as he growled, stepping forwards to lift his shield to defend against a blow then thrust his blade into his attacker, drawing back again to hold their ground.
Within moments they were surrounded, blood pouring into the sand from the bodies of those slaughtered. Not hesitating for a second the woman shot down two more opponents within the blink of an eye then saw a blade coming at her from the left. She could not duck as that would mean Lamorak would take the blow, so in steady she drew an arrow from her quiver and stepped closer, thrusting her weight into the enemy gladiator and drove the arrow deep into his ribs, yanking it back then slashed the head under his neck, pouring blood all over her in a thick spray and she could taste it on her mouth. Suddenly someone's head whispered in her mind.
"Do not stop moving, even if you do not know what is happening around you, move into a space!" It was a voice that sounded familiar and Amaya blinked before taking the advice given to her, stepping into a space and narrowly missed a spear being thrust at her.
The crowds howled for more blood, watching as the last two fighters defended against the five that remained. Lamorak turned, lifting his spear then thrust it forwards as the woman ducked, their minds thinking as one as she shot an arrow under his arm to protect his back as his spear drove into the heart of another, leaving only three left.
His shield slammed against another's and they wrestled as the woman faced the archer. He snarled at her but she prowled smoothly, glancing to Lamorak who fought against the last two. She could not lift an arrow to shoot one as the other archer would take the opening and use it to kill her.
"Use their strengths as yours, let them be blind, manipulate your enemies! Take control of the fight!" The voice burned in her mind and the woman instantly knew what to do. She leaped to the side, rolling on the sand then stood up, drawing an arrow as the archer pulled back his. The moment he let go, her body slipped to the side and she let her arrow fly, cutting it deep into the archer's chest who grunted then dropped to his knees, blood spurting from his mouth before he fell forwards.
The other arrow he had shot sank deep into one of the other enemy gladiators, wounding him but Lamorak finished him off by taking off his head, moving around to swing his blade and the woman drew one last arrow, leaping onto the final gladiator's back then drove it into his neck, stabbing him again and again with snarling rage before letting him drop, her arms and hands now stained with blood.
There was silence.
Her breath came out in ragged gasps, fingers gripping the bow tightly as the crowd simply stared at them. Lamorak looked to his companion and gave a tiny nod, signalling they were safe for the time being. All at once the small arena was filled with the cheering and applause of their audience, the crows soaring down and began to peck at the flesh of the fallen.
Refraining from shuddering, the woman closed her eyes but then her other senses were more alert. The taste of blood filled her mouth and she spat it out, lips curling into a grimace before she looked to Lamorak, who had lifted both sword and shield up into the air to absorb the audience's roar, playing the part they wanted to see so the woman did the same, saluting her bow high in the air before they were herded away by keepers, spears jabbing into their backs.
"Still alive I see. I'm impressed." A sardonic voice snorted as Lamorak and his companion were shoved into a cell with only two beds, a greater luxury than what the others received, which was mostly a cold stone floor and the filth of others' waste. Being the new crowd favourite, they had earned better board.
The woman looked to the man in the cell room next to them, who sat alone in a cell very similar to theirs. He looked dangerous, the way a snake did before it lunged for the bite. Hair of flame red fell down his back in thick, tangled locks, pulled back by a small length of cord. His blue eyes were like a fragment of the sky, deep and broad but the smirk that situated on his mouth only added to the haunting look he was giving her. "They have already named you The Faceless Archer." The woman looked down to her blood stained hand which had previously held a bow but it had been taken from her the moment they had returned to the cells.
"Seeing as I have no other, it will do." She replied then looked to Lamorak. "You may call me Archer." He nodded his head once then turned to face the man who spoke from the other side of their cell, grinning wickedly.
"Don't mind Gaheris there, he likes to think he's frightening but he's as soft as a baby's backside." He stuck a hand through the bars. "I'm Elyan and this sod here is Ywain. Ywain the Bastard they call him out there." Neither moved to shake his hand but he continued to grin, giving a little shrug as he drew back his hand and continued to lean against the bars.
"Lamorak." The tall slave answered after a while, frowning slightly.
"Well, welcome to the band of pathetic brothers." Gaheris welcomed sarcastically, pursing his lips. "Seems it doesn't take long to find replacements for the last two that were in there." He stood and approached the cells that adjoined Lamorak and Archer's, gripping them tightly as he growled slowly and menacingly. "This cell is cursed, men don't survive a week in there."
"Why are you alone?" Archer asked bluntly, not backing down from Gaheris's dark charisma. He smirked wolfishly.
"Because I killed my cell mate when he snored too loudly." The woman snorted.
"You lie."
"I never lie." She arched an eyebrow under her hood before continuing in her husky voice which seemed to pass as a man's.
"You twitched. Which means you were lying." Elyan laughed cheerfully, clapping his hands.
"He's got you all sussed, Gaheris. Our good friend here never shares with someone because he might kill them. He is that good at killing."
"We are all good at killing here." Lamorak lamented quietly, laying down on a bed. "That is why we are here."
"I like that one." Ywain said for the first time, lifting his head. Archer glanced between the two. The looked rough, with bruises and cuts on their faces from a recent fight but underneath lay deeply tanned skin. Elyan had an aquiline nose and prominent jaw line, accenting the square shape and his dark brown eyes matched the matted rat's nest of his hair. Ywain rose to his feet suspiciously, peering at Archer with cold grey eyes which were set either side of his crooked nose.
"Why do you wear the hood?"
"Because I wish to." Archer answered simply, meeting his gaze before turning to the door as it clunked open and a pale of water was set inside by a keeper.
"You'll be fed later. Probably." He growled then locked the door after him, striding away and his footsteps echoed loudly as they bounced off the wall.
"I'd save that water if I were you. Might not get another drink in a few days." Archer looked at Gaheris then looked to her bloodied hands before sighing, nodding her head once. As the blood dried she picked it off, laying on her side on top of the bed which was little more than a rickety cot with a straw stuffed mattress.
She felt tired, though the fight hadn't really been too strenuous. At least she was in shape, she stood a good chance of surviving until she could plan something to get herself and Lamorak out of there. Food did not come but Archer was not hungry anyway, the taste of blood in her mouth was beginning to make her retch so she thrust her face into the water and spat out all she could, running her tongue over her teeth before settling on the bed.
The others were quiet, even Elyan though he hummed to himself but the sweet tone of his voice soothed the woman slightly, allowing her aching head to be slightly appeased and the throbbing dulled until it was tolerable.
"Archer, can you remember anything?"
"A voice." She murmured in reply. "I remembered a voice today." Lamorak lifted his head as Archer searched the emptiness of her mind, trying to summon a face to fit the voice as it had shouted orders to her. "But I do not know whose."
"Give it time. Your mind will heal and then you will know where it is you must run to." She lifted her head, fixing her hidden eyes on Lamorak.
"You will be coming with me."
"I cannot run away from my life." He answered darkly, lifting his tattooed arm. "This is how I must live, for the rest of my life." She shook her head.
"We will find a way." Ywain snorted.
"They're all the same. Coming in here with hopes of freedom and dreams of running away from here. I'll tell you now, boy. If you're as green as you look and you don't take your head out of the clouds, you're going to die here sooner than the rest of us. Accept it. This is your life now." Archer said nothing as she did not need to answer. She knew she could escape with Lamorak, she was determined to do it. All she needed was her memories.