Reign of Shadows - Deborah Chester [124]
Then he recovered his composure and cleared histhroat. “We have a good crowd today,” he said sternly. “You will give them their money’s worth in entertainment. Any man shirking or trying to save himself will be speared by the guards. Am I clear?”
As he spoke, he glared straight at Caelan.
“You’ll fight your unworthy guts out today. You’re a miserable lot, this pick. But you’ll fight like champions, each and every one of you! The emperor is here today. Aye, here to see your blood spilled.”
The fighters exchanged looks. Caelan felt both confused and excited. Outside he could hear the crowd roaring thunderously. Something elemental and primitive in the sound made his blood charge. He wiped his sweating palms on his thighs and wished his heart would not beat so fast.
Orlo gestured, and the other trainers passed out leather fighting harnesses. Caelan’s fingers fumbled with the unfamiliar buckles; then his hands were pushed aside.
Orlo stood beside him, stripping off the harness and fetching another one. It looked old. One strap had been mended. But the leather was well oiled and cared for. Caelan noticed the straps were dyed blue, even as Orlo let it out a notch, then another, then another in order to buckle it across his chest.
“Breathe,” he commanded.
Caelan obeyed.
“Too tight?”
Caelan felt the restriction and nodded.
With a grunt Orlo used the point of his dagger to make an additional hole and loosened the harness. “Aye, that fits right. Were you worth it, you’d wear a custom-made one.”
Caelan fingered the leather, remembering his disrobing so long ago when the masters had forbidden him to wear blue. Then, blue had represented life. Now it stood for the taking of it.
He swallowed. “Does blue show who owns me?”
“Aye.” Orlo stepped back and looked him over critically. “Although you’ll be a humiliation for the prince quick enough.” He showed his teeth in a mirthless grin. “Perhaps it’ll be worth it, just to see his face. Hah!”
The fighters filed out and marched double-time up a ramp. The cheering was louder now, deafening as it echoed through the stone. With every step, Caelan felt his blood stirring. He opened his mouth to suck in lungfuls of fresh air. He could smell sun-baked earth as well as roasted goat and sweetmeats.
They stopped, half-hidden in the shadows. Beyond an archway flanked by soldiers in full armor, dazzling sunlight streamed down. A breeze blew in, bringing heat to the dank coolness.
Orlo walked ahead, pacing back and forth in the archway as though he were about to enter the ring himself. Another trainer passed down the row of twelve men with lots for them to draw.
Muscles tight, Caelan drew his bronze tag. His thumb traced over the number. He would go in ring six. Handlers moved among them, pushing and shoving them into the correct pairs. Caelan eyed his opponent, a grizzled heavyset man he had never practiced with before. He was relieved it was none of the men he’d been quartered with lately. His opponent refused to look at him at all and kept his gaze stubbornly on the floor.
Irrational hope rose in Caelan as he noticed the gray in the man’s hair and the slight flabbiness of his muscles. Perhaps he would have a chance after all. Youth and quickness must count for some advantage. But to temper his growing optimism he reminded himself that experience outweighed almost everything else.
The first pair was pushed forward to a spot at the top of the ramp just short of the archway. The armored soldiers there hastily crossed their spears across the archway, but the gladiators ignored them.
Caelan heard a creaking noise, and the pair for ring one disappeared into the floor. He stared, mouth open, and could not believe it.
A few seconds later, the second pair were positioned on the same spot, and they also sank from sight.
As the line moved forward, Caelan saw that a section of the floor was really a platform that was lowered into the bowels of the catacombs beneath the ramp. He relaxed, ashamed of his own amazement. No sorcery was at work here, just simple mechanical devices.
When it came