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5 Days Later
The Hills of Hyrkan
Nuceria was in turmoil.
The Colosseum Primus, a symbol of the republic's glorious past, lay in ruins. The capital city of Reksia, the pride and joy of the new empire, was soaked in the blood of its slaughtered citizens. The imperial army saved what they could and severely punished the rebellious slaves who remained within the smoldering megapolis, but they were too late.
The damage had already been done.
Nearly ten thousand Nucerian citizens perished in the uprising. Their passing would be all the advantage Angronius and the freemen would need to reach the coastland city unhindered. For while the whole nation reeled from the blow struck by the gladiator king, he and his followers would be well on their way across the sea and out of reach from Acraesius and his legions.
But before they could proceed with their plans, something had to be done first. Something that concerned Polgara of House Thal'kyr. The venom of Meslim's serpent still burned within her veins, and for many days she held on to the fraying strands of life, hot with fever and driven mad with pain.
Angronius, throughout the journey from Desh'ea to the hills that separated Hyrkan from the rest of Nuceria, remained at her side.
He wrapped her in stolen strips of gossamer, doing his best to enshroud the memories of that bloody night. In the nights when the gentle breeze felt like the freezing bite of winter to her, Angronius was there to lend the warmth of his body. When in throes of delirium or fits of agony, when she would call out his name, he was there to hold her hand.
But no amount of comfort could remove her affliction. Polgara needed a doctor, and she needed one soon. Therein lay the dilemma, for Angronius hadn't the slightest idea about where to look for one. To attempt a search would risk discovery, and to risk discovery would lead the slave-hunters to them. The only advantage they had was that they weren't ordinary slaves, but gladiators. If anyone tried to hunt them, they wouldn't be hunting squealing boars in the forest.
The men and women of the sands were wolves, and they had good strong teeth.
One morning, as the convoy of stolen transporters halted above the edge of a hill overlooking the mines south of Hyrkan, Angronius took a moment to survey the land and find a clear heading for their next move. He knew he had to make a decision soon, for in every delay brought closer the day when Acraesius' legions would have them backed into a corner.
As he pondered, and wrestled with the murderous desires worming their way into his mind through the Nails, Angronius was approached by Lucretia. The gladiatrix survived her wounds in the arena, and was just about reaching the final days of her recovery. She looked stronger, of better form than before and eager for action.
"Angronius, it has been too long since we last spoke." She said, gently testing the waters to see if he was in a talking mood. "Are you... well?"
"No, sister." Angronius rumbled as though in agony. He closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "My mind is heavy with thoughts, and I struggle with the weight of a thousand swords digging into my skull. My heart is pierced with despair, for the love of my life writhes with the poison of a coward's pet. I should be happy, for I've regained what I've longed to have for so long- my freedom. But it has cost me too much..."
The giant ground his teeth together as the Nails lashed at him with the harsh snap of an agoniser whip, "... too much, I tell you."
Lucretia considered her words carefully, hoping to find some way to encourage her crestfallen brother. "Angronius... she lives still. And while she breathes, there is yet hope."
The giant stirred, looking up to the rising sun. Her words, while simple and direct, saw his spirits soar. Any cure to Polgara's affliction would be well worth the risk, but he couldn't bring himself to force any of his fellow freemen to undertake the task. Not them. He gave them their freedom, and as free men he would ask them- never demand.
"Brothers and sisters, I would have words." He announced to the mixed multitude of former slaves.
The freemen stopped to listen. Every one of them, from the liberated cooks and body slaves to the hulking gladiators adorned in battleskirts and brandishing fine Nucerian steel in every hand. Many of them were grateful to have survived the massacre of House Thal'kyr, many more were grateful for a chance to breathe without the collars of bondage around their necks- all thanks to Angronius, Lord of the Red Sands.
"I wish to enter the walls of Hyrkan and look for a physician." He said, "Someone who can help cure Polgara of the poison afflicting her. I will need help in undertaking this task. Who among you are willing to help me?"
Every gladiator and gladiatrix raised their steel to show their support for him. Angronius didn't think less of the freemen who couldn't fight, even if they didn't show the same willingness to help him. They came along to take refuge beneath his powerful wings, for the world around them was cruel and unwelcoming to runaway slaves.
"Why ask the question for an answer you already know?" Rissio asked, "Of course we'll help you!"
"I ask..." Angronius smiled gratefully, "Because I cannot take you all with me. I will only select three out of all of you to accompany me. We aren't trying to take the city."
"Why not?" The curly-haired gladiator said.
"Everything on its own time." The Lord of the Red Sands replied, "First, we find that physician."
He would rather have sent someone to lead the group into Hyrkan, so he could stay by Polgara's side. However, none of the gladiators or former slaves with him knew of the world beyond the star-metal cages of the ludus gladiatorius. Sending them in would alert the local authorities, and no one wanted to bring the slave-hunters upon them so soon after escaping Desh'ea.
Angronius chose Rissio and two other gladiators to follow him into Hyrkan, and Lucretia to look after the others while they moved to seize what they needed from the city. The four planned to search Hyrkan for a doctor, be it slave or freeman, and take him back to camp to attend to Polgara. If they could carry back some supplies along the way, they would do so with all due discretion.
Slipping in undetected was not without its own difficulties. Going alone, a gladiator might avoid the attention of the city watch. But Angronius wanted to make sure that if something went wrong, they would have enough numbers to fight their way through and get out. The last time he went in alone, he remembered keenly how it ended up.
They couldn't enter the city through the main gate, for the Nucerians were put on high alert. News about the revolt in Reksia spread like wildfire throughout the empire, and every lawman was on lookout for any sign of the escaped gladiators. Angronius had to find another way in, and it wasn't long before he found one through the submerged pipeline running through the ground which was connected to the city aquifer pumps.
The pipes were ancient, but were surprisingly kept intact through the centuries. The Sodian Sea provided much for the people of the coast, but it was the pumps of Hyrkan that provided them with fresh drinking water. In Angronius' case, they provided a means for their successful infiltration. Fitting just barely through the pipes, the four gladiators opened and crawled through an emergency purge hatch.
Squeezing into the cramped tubes, the freemen fought against the gnawing feeling of claustrophobia and made their way into the cistern of the coastland city.
It took almost an hour before they finally slipped into the water reservoir tank scheduled for purification, then punched their way out. Dropping down on solid ground, the four gladiators froze upon seeing the worker drones operating the purifier station. A single human foreman, seemingly put in charge over the automated work force, was sleeping on the job. He sat, slumped on his chair in the foreman's booth with his feet up on the control panel and his cap draped over his eyes.
Rissio approached with his gladius in hand, intent on killing the man.
Angronius stopped him, motioning for the others to follow him out of the station. "Let him sleep."
Rissio protested in a hushed tone, "But he might-"
"And if you killed him?" Angronius asked, "Where would you hide the body? If we leave a bloody trail wherever we go, it'll lead the slave-hunters right on top of us. Do you want that to happen?"
"Well... no."
"Didn't think so."
Slipping out undetected, the gladiators did their best to blend in before joining the crowds roaming the streets of Hyrkan. Like Angronius, who gazed in awe at everything in the world the first time he was free, the gladiators stared with childlike wonder at the sights and sounds surrounding them. Indeed, the world of the gladiator school was all they ever knew, and it felt like they stepped into a new and unexplored world altogether.
Angronius let them take in the sights for as long as it was safe to do so, for he wanted them to savor their freedom as he did and to let go of their attachments to the life of a slave.
This was their life now, although they could do without the looming threat of the Nucerian slave-hunters and Acraesius' legions.
Angronius started his search close to the market district, where he was sure the Hyrkan healers were reputed to ply their trade. If he couldn't find what he was looking for there, he could at least ask people for directions. Such questions had to be kept to a minimum, for ever since the last time he came to Hyrkan, Angronius had become less trusting of the locals.
He was no longer looking out for himself, but for hundreds- if not thousands- of freed slaves. He had to proceed with the utmost caution, for all their sakes.
Searching far and wide through the market, Angronius found to his great disappointment that there were no healers present in the district, only fortune-tellers and quacks. What he found, what they all found, were more slaves.
Worker, body or prostitute slaves were brought by the hundreds. It was auction day, a rare occasion that came with lower prices for each slave head. The crowds here were bigger, for both nobles and merchants were always looking for fresh stock to purchase for their many businesses.
Men, women and children were bid for like cattle. The sight of it never ceased to heat Angronius' blood to burning oil. As for the rest of the gladiators, they weren't angry. If anything, they only felt pity. For too long had slavery been ingrained into civilization that it was merely accepted as the norm, even an inevitability.
As unpleasant as it was, slavery had a place in the cornerstones of every empire, Nuceria was no different.
Wresting his focus away to remain fixed on his objective, Angronius led his brothers out of the crowded market to head in deeper into the city. They immediately changed their course upon seeing the approaching squad of city-watchers who patrolled the streets of Hyrkan in search for troublemakers. As they entered the last bend that separated the district from the quays, Angronius rounded the corner and bumped into a man who was just as tall as he was.
The man, like many of the people of Hyrkan, was dark from the punishing heat of the coastland sun. He wore the trappings of a warrior, and carried himself as one. When he reeled from the impact of the similarly large Angronius, the expression on his face switched from annoyance to astonishment as recognition dawned on him. "Angronius?"
The gladiator king recognized him too, "Ohn."
And so did the other gladiators, "Shit."
Ohn stared at them for a long time, then glanced at the lawmen marching down the street behind them. The gladiators didn't know what to do with him, and they certainly didn't want anyone else getting wise on them. So, they quickly grabbed the Champion of Hyrkan and hauled him off to a nearby alley. Rissio held his gladius against his belly, while the other gladiators clamped one hand on his mouth and a serrated dagger against his throat.
"Be silent." Angronius warned, the rest of his threat left unsaid but clearly understood by his former opponent.
Ohn nodded slowly, and everyone held their breath as the patrol passed them by.
The hand, at Angronius' command, was removed from his mouth. Ohn uttered a mirthless chuckle and glanced at the fugitives nervously, "You lot have caused quite a stir. Burning down the Colosseum Primus, then the capital, and next slipping out of Acraesius' fingers?"
"Staying was never an option." Angronius replied.
"What should we do with him?" Rissio asked.
"Kill him. He saw us." One of the other gladiators growled.
"Now now, let's not be so hasty." Ohn's quick hands balled up into fists, then shot out at Rissio and the gladiator holding a dagger to his throat. Both gladiators caught his fists in their throats, and they reeled back coughing at the sudden attack. He slammed his head into Rissio's face, breaking his nose in with a solid crack, then caught the gladius as it slipped from his fingers. He stepped away from the fugitives, weapon raised against Angronius and the other gladiator. "Easy now! I understand everyone's on edge, but let's try to talk this over."
Angronius considered following the suggestion to kill him, but he thought better of it. Ohn didn't seem to have the intention of causing them any more trouble than they brought upon themselves, so he let him talk. Besides, he needed something and with someone like Ohn inclined to be at his disposal, he could gain the physician he needed for Polgara.
"I don't really care that you lot are escaped slaves. We've got a lot of those all the time." Ohn said, speaking quickly before Rissio and the other downed gladiator could act upon their more base urges. "But in your case, Angronius, I must confess... I like what you're doing with your freedom."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, if memory serves, I recall that you've gone out of your way to defy our newly crowned Emperor. Twice in the arena, and another with your rebellion."
"That is so." Angronius nodded.
"Not all of us embrace the birth of the new empire." Ohn said, "Reksia might look down on us, but we sons and daughters of Hyrkan are people of the republic through and through. That false emperor who sits on the ruby throne means nothing to us."
"Then... are you saying that you have no quarrel with us?"
"That depends. Why are you here in my city?"
"Enough of this, Little Brother!" Rissio snapped, his speech slightly impaired by his broken nose. "Kill him now and be done with it."
"Hold, Rissio!" Angronius growled, feeling his neck grow hot with impatience. "Why do you concern yourself with the plight of some fugitives, Ohn?"
"I want to help." Ohn said honestly, "I haven't forgotten what you've done for me in the arena. A lesser man would hate you for what you did, but I am no lesser man. You fought well and honorably, a virtue sorely lacking in most of my countrymen. The gods favor men of this virtue, be they free or slaveborn. I will not be the one to slight them simply because the law of the land demands it. So out with it, Lord of the Red Sands. Why are you in Hyrkan?"
There was no one else to turn to without risking discovery, so Angronius gambled for Ohn's goodwill. Every second he delayed, Polgara was slipping ever closer to death's door. Reluctantly, he revealed what he and the rest of the fugitives were in the city for. "I need help. Someone I care for very deeply has been poisoned. There are no healers within a thousand miles of this city, and in Hyrkan I have yet to find one among these sprawling mega-complexes."
"You need a doctor, not a healer." Ohn declared, glancing back at the gladiators blocking each exit of the alleyway. "I happen to have one in my employ. If you would be so kind as to properly restrain your hounds, I will take you to him."
"I don't think I'm willing to do that." Angronius replied, "What's to stop you from leading us into a trap, right into the hands of the slave-hunters?"
"This person you care about, what are you prepared to sacrifice to see the affliction lifted?"
Angronius' answer was a resolute stare.
"Then sheathe your weapons and follow me."
City of Reksia
The Exalted Palace Construction Site
Emperor Marsus Acraesius stood before the gleaming red throne of pure uncut ruby that signified his exalted position.
Long ago, the same throne had been the seat of the kings of old, who once ruled Nuceria when it was just a city state among many in the vast land that now the whole empire was built on. It had been cast away when the Curia Lumeria had been built. Now that the republic was dead, Acraesius had the old throne exhumed for his new palace. A hundred lives, perhaps more, had been paid for such a novelty. For too long had Nuceria been swamped in the firm political iron grip of the republic, bloodshed was unavoidable. To Acraesius, such violence to herald the coming of the new age was necessary.
After all, would a woman shy from the birthing pains if it meant it would bring her child into the world?
"Nuceria..." Acraesius breathed as he approached the open balcony, passing the dozen braziers alight with burning incense. His long regal violet robes slid across the marble tiles behind his heels, their golden tails rattling on the surface with the noise of a serpent slithering to its den. He placed his hands on the edge of the balcony and peered across the city rising back from the blow struck by the slave uprising.
The people weren't happy, but they were about to attain satisfaction.
The slaves who massacred the citizens of Reksia were condemned to die, not as gladiators, but as blood sacrifices to Mars and Orcus. As a favor to the Magisters, who had long harbored deep resentment for Acraesius due to their suspicions of his involvement in the death of the Grand Augur, the Emperor handed over a great number of condemned slaves for their many experiments and sorcerous rituals.
Everything was coming together.
Even Angronius' escape, though unfortunate, could be used to his advantage. At this stage of his reign, the people of Nuceria were afraid and uncertain. To galvanize them against a common threat would be the right kind of mortar to seal the last stones that would ensure a long life for his empire.
"I would advise caution regarding your planned speech, Princeps." A voice, familiar but long absent in his courts, addressed him from the shadows of his throneroom. "Fear can only move men so far. And far too many already suspect your true nature."
"And I advise caution regarding how you speak to me, Sevran Fowl." Acraesius warned, turning to meet the nobleman who spurred events and odds towards his favor. "I am no longer Proconsul, but Emperor, in case you have forgotten."
"Any man who says 'I am the Emperor' is no true emperor." Fowl replied, unfazed by the pomp and pride exhibited by the man. Kings, princes and emperors alike have blustered and threatened their way throughout history, and the lack of contrast showed by Acraesius bored him greatly. The minds of mortal men hold empty spaces, easily filled with pride and hubris.
Thankfully, Acraesius' mind wasn't filled to the brim just yet. "I assume the reason for your unexpected visit is a matter of great import, or did you come all this way just to diminish my victory out of a whim?"
"As a matter of fact, it is." Fowl declared, "Beware, Angronius has reached Hyrkan and plans to seize control of the fleet to ferry himself and his fellow fugitives across the Sodian Sea."
"How did you come upon this?" Acraesius asked, curious as to how the nobleman seemed to know things that his spymasters were unable to deduce.
"One can see many things amidst chaos, if the mind commits to a singular focus. I have watched where your people have overlooked, and found what they've failed to see. What you do next, I now leave to you."
As he stood there thinking, Acraesius was aware that Fowl had already taken his leave and disappeared from the palace. When he finally moved to speak with his appointed generals regarding the matter of the fugitives, he checked the throneroom for the nobleman's means of entry. He found, to his bafflement, that there were no entrances into the room save for the main doors, which remained shut the whole time he stood within its walls.
Unnerved, Acraesius started to think about having Fowl followed. A man who knew things he couldn't, came and went however he saw fit, was too dangerous to be an ally.
But he changed his mind and thought it better to stay his hand. To make an enemy of a man like that, if he was even a man at all, could be just as dangerous to handle. Acraesius already had Angronius in one plate, the teetering new empire in the other, and he needed no additional concerns to the main course.
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