SCARLETS DOMAIN

Karelia takes me to one side. She speaks slowly,
deliberately.

"We fight soon," she says. "You and I."

I nod. Barring accidents, which are all too likely in
this environment, it seems inevitable.

"If you try kill me," she says hesitantly, "you die."

I stare at her. It is not a threat. There is sadness
in her voice.

"The arrows of Verna protect me!"

"Verna?"

"I can say no more. I say too much already."

"Fine," I hiss, "so I don't try to kill you because
some friend of yours will shoot me in that back like a
dog. like they shot Mercedes! What, in the meantime,
do you do? Will you not try to kill me because some
friend of mine will shoot you in the back? We are
warriors. We fight. Thats our business!"

Karelia looks away. She glances at me quickly before
moving off.

Gladius calls me over before I can go to Karelia. He
calls Valeris over too. We look at each other as he
tells us that we will open the next round. The tall
blonde smiles at me, as she takes her trident and
shield. I take my spear, confident that before long
its point will rest somewhere inside her body.

The horns are sounding. We must join battle.

And so it is that I march into the centre of the arena
once more with Valeris. My mood is black. I don't like
the big blonde hun, but I like still less the baying
mob who are still fresh from Lucia's grisly death.

All trace of the nerves that Valeris had when fighting
poor Dominia are gone, but despite this she holds her
net and trident like a housewife.

With a grunt that she assumes to be menacing, she
sweeps the net at me, and jabs the trident at the same
time, in a move that I see before it starts. I step
back, my spear point angled at the ground.

"Fight, bitch!"

I will not be spoken to like that by anyone, and my
spear point comes up, as if suddenly awoken by her
charms, and jabs at her belly. She yelps and jumps
back, but I have my foot on her net and she is forced
to let go.

Once again my spear loses interest, and the crowd
start to jeer. Still, Valeris, deprived of one weapon,
cannot hide the fear that sweeps briefly over her
face. So far things are going as well for me as can be
expected.

I stoop to retrieve the net, glancing down as I do so.
If she is half the warrior she thinks she is, I know
what she will do next. If she was all of that warrior,
I wouldn't, but then I would never have taken my eyes
off her if that was the case.

She lunges at me with a yell, and burying the point of
my spear in the ground, I catch the splines of her
trident with the shaft, pushing it up and away. Then
dropping the spear almost disdainfuly, I drive my fist
into her stomach.

As she doubles over, I retrieve the spear, and then
drive butt end into her breast.

Valeris screams, partly because the impact is painful,
and partly because the stupid girl things she has been
stabbed. She drops the trident, clutching her naked
breast and staggering, and then realises that there is
no blood.

She looks at me, and now the fear in her eyes is
naked. She is mine. I'm going to enjoy her humiliation
and she knows it.

I jab the spear at her, this time point first, but
leaving her enough distance to move back. I jab again.
She dodges once more. Now, before she gets settled
into this game, it is time to up the stakes.

She howls suddenly as the spear point rakes acorss her
left breast, cutting deep. I am beginning to feel the
familair sensations of battle-arousal, so common when
the enemy is defeated, but not yet finished.

I twirl the spear like a baton, then let it swing out
to her. She screams once more as the cross spike
buries itself in her side.

She drops to her knees, suddenly, begging me to spare
her, tears streaming down her face. I curl my lip in
disgust, and push my foot into her face, sending her
scrabbling into the dust. I feel my heart pounding as
she crawls away from me as fast as she can go, on all
fours.

I can barely stand, as avery part of my body begins to
shake with battle-lust. I know what I am going to do
next, and prepare myself for the final act.

She screams horribly as I drive my spear between her
buttocks. I feel the resistance of the weapon breaking
skin, and then the ease with which it cuts into her
soft insides.

She writhes like a speared fish, grunting and howling,
as the spear thrusts into her. I can feel the
resistance as she tenses her buttocks against me, but
it does her no good. She reaches behind her to try to
grb the shaft, but in twisting her body, only causes
more pain.

I fancy that I can hear two people screaming, and then
realise that the second one is me. Even now, her
suffering sends me to dizzying heights of desire, and
want enjoy her suffering for as long as possible.

And so, before the spear can reach her heart, or
rupture any major blood vessels, I start to pull it
out I can feel the barbs cutting and tearing. Exit is
not nearly as easy as entrance, but eventually the
spear point comes free, covered in gore and offal.

Valeris lies on her belly now, her body convulsing,
and half her insides spread between her legs, but it
is clear that she is no longer conscious of anything.
Her eyes stare ahead, glazed.

I feel the shuddering in my own body subsiding, and
become aware of the wetness between my legs.

The crowd are howling their appreciation, and slowly a
hideous realisation begins to dawn.

I am exactly the same as them.

I hate being made to kill for a spectacle, but most of
all I hate myself for taking so much pleasure from it.

Slowly, I walk to the exit gates, my head bowed. At
least the future is clear to me now. If Karelia beats
Honoria, she can send my soul to the hell it deserves.

As I walk through the gates, someone siezes my arm.
Ordinarily, that person would be lying on the ground
choking on their own blood, but now I no longer care.
I look up at the hooded figure - that very same figure
I saw lurking in the shadows when I killed Lollia.

"I am the Mistress of Verna!" she says. "I see that
death weighs heavily on your soul as it does with all
true warriors."

I peer into the darkness behind the hood, but can see
nothing. I dislike someone knowing more about me than
I know of them.

"I can help soothe your soul, but first we must talk"

***

After we have spoken, my future is once more cloudy.
This is as it should be, though my mood is still dark.

Back in the cell I sit with my head in my hands,
vaguely aware that Karelia is standing before me,
patiently, concerned. She can't help me. Nobody can,
and she seems to know this.

Honoria, however, is still dressing her wounds. She
glares at me sullenly, a deep hatred in her eyes which
seems to go beyond gladiatorial rivalry. Could it be
that her feelings for Valeris ran deeper than they
should have done?

"So, you shafted the bitch!" she sneers, her sick joke
hanging in the air.

A feel the anger rise within me. It is a different
anger, to what I am used to. No longer the controlled
rage that enables me to fight my enemies effectively,
but a terrifying uncontrollable insanity, and it is
directed against myself as much as anyone.

Valeris may have been a stupid bitch, but she didn't
deserve to die like that.

"It was great, though, and the crowd loved it! Well
done!" The sarcasm is thick in her voice.

I am barely aware that I am on my feet. Honoria looks
up, startled at the anguished cry that escapes my
lips, and her astonishment quickly turns to fear.

She grunts, staggering under the impact of my spear as
it drives into her stomach. She has a moment to look
down at the wooden shaft protruding from her body,
before she staggers forward as it is withdrawn,
ripping her flesh as it leaves her body.

She staggers back against the wall, gasping in shock
as she clutches her wound, her naked body flaccid as
she starts to slide down the wall.

I stare at her, my lips curled in an involuntary
rictus as conflicting emotions clash within me like
giant icebergs.

Gladius runs forward.

"Shit!" he yells. He glances up at me ready to
admonish me, but when he sees my face, his instinct
advises him, wisely, to leave it.

He tends to Honoria, who is curled up on the stone
flagging, vomiting blood. He is only concerned with
her survival for the next bout, but it is soon clear
to him that she will never fight again. Blood, mixed
with stomach juices and green bile, pools across the
flagging, streaming between the stones in squares, to
mix with her urine.

I feel Karelia's hand on my cheek, and turn snarling
towards her. Her face fills with fear, but she holds
her ground.

"Shhh, peace, my friend," she whispers. "Be at peace."

Her soothing tone has the power to reain in my emtions
which are as wild horses trampling my spirit..

"Soon, you will fight with me and you will fight with
honour once more."

I feel a great damn burst within me, and my eyes
suddenly sting with tears.

"Antiope, gladiatrix!" Gladius' bark snaps me to
automatic attention.

"Karelia, gladiatrix!" Karelia turns to him too.

"The time has come for your final battle. You will
fight with honour and bravery, as I know you can, and
you will silence those dogs out there with your
skill."

He salutes us.

Gladius salutes us!

Karelia and I look at each other. She nods
imperceptibly, and we leave the cell for the final
time.

There is no time for tears now. Later I shall weep for
Valeris and for Lollia who I sent miserably to Hades.
I shall weep for Honoria too, and for poor Dominia,
noble Mercedes and the beautiful Lucia. They were
imperfect women, all of them, but they died warriors,
and my tears will fill an ocean when the time comes.

But for now I have to remember what the Mistress of
Verna told me.

Karelia's first strike nearly kills me.

Her axe arcs over my head at an angle and I raise my
shield to parry, but fail to anticipate the
last-minute change of direction which almost leaves
her axe-head buried in my side. I manage to skip out
of the way, but even so, it grazes my midriff.

It is my mistake, but it serves to focus me.

Already, she is attacking again, and I blank my mind
from all extraneous thoughts. I make some distance
between me and her, before counterattacking, driving
my spear point at her belly below her shield.

There is never any expectation that the point will
drive home, and therefor no intention. I swing the
spear as she turns, driving the cross-spike towards
her now exposed breast.

Having evaded my first attack, her shield is ready to
parry my follow up, and her axe swings dangerously
towards my skull.

This is the way it should be. We each plan and
execute, while anticipating and adapting our attacks
and defences. It is all done on the edge of
consciousness - there is no other way - and between us
the fight evolves like a deadly dance.

For one of us the dance should end horribly, but until
then we continue to create the dance as a child is
created between lovers. One can only hope that death
will come quickly and that the beauty is not destroyed
by the screaming horror of seeing ones insides exposed
for a slow stinking undignified death.

Neither of us considers this as we fight on. Attack
and counter-attack are more or less continuous, but
this takes its toll on our strength. Disengagements
become more frequent and for a few moments we stand
facing each other, our bodies heaving with exhaustion.

We are evenly matched, and it is clear that stamina,
rather than skill, will be the deciding factor now. A
small lapse of concentration - the tiniest of
distractions will be enough.

I scream as I drive my spear at her left breast, but
she brings her shield up just before the point can rip
into her flesh. Her counter-attack is not as fast as
it once was, but neither is my defence.

We disengage, breathing hard, sweat glistening on our
bodies.

I feint once more towards her face, the point
disorientating her slightly, then drop back before
lunging low at her crotch.

She turns aside, but her reactions are shot. The barb
point of my spear slides under her rough leather
apron, and I feel the resistance of metal cutting
skin.

Karelia screams, clutching her belly and dropping to
her knees. Blood courses down her thighs as she drops
her weapons and her shield.

She looks up at me, quickly as I approach. We both
know what I have to do.

Kneeling behind her swaying body, I grip her under the
chin with one hand, and using the other, I twist
sharply.

A loud crack is heard, and Karelia arches her back
convulsively, before flopping forward, twitching for a
few moments, then lying still.

I kneel beside her, and stroke her blond hair.

"Goodbye, dear Karelia," I whisper, "wherever you go,
I wish you well."

Slowly I get to my feet, and I realise, from the
sudden roar of the crowd, that they have been
completely silent up until now.

There are soldiers filing into the arena. They form
two ranks, one each side of me as the crowd chant
their appreciation.

One of them approaches me. I am used to disdain or
lust, but this one has respect in his eyes. he
gestures me to follow.

I am weary from battle, in my soul as well as in my
body. I have their respect now, but what does it
matter. It is, after all, only the respect of the
bloodthirsty mob, and it seems that it is no different
from the appreciation they offer for a cruel kill.
However, their lusts are my lusts. If their respect is
meaningless, then so is my own self-respect.

Senator Maximus and his wife stand before me. he holds
his hand up to silence the crowd.

"Gladiatrix, you fought well," he says, "and for this
I offer you the laurels of victory."

A ridiculous wreath is placed around my neck. His wife
comes forward. She is beautiful, with her face painted
like Lucias. She has dark hair, also, like Lucia, but
her body is not that of a warrior or a dancer.

"Congratulations," she says smiling in a way I cannot
trust. "I am envious of your skill."

She pauses. Around me the soldiers stand.
Instinctivley I weigh up the odds. I have no chance of
survival, unarmed as I am, but to me no chance seems
the best odds I will get.

"Perhaps you could teach me to fight as you do," she
says.

I hate her. She fights in the bedrooms and banqueting
halls with her tongue as I do with my sword n the
arena. It is no kind of fight, but she can still
humiliate me with her words.

"In return," she continues, "I could teach you how to
be... ah... a woman!"

She wrinkles her nose. The stench of three womens
deaths hangs over my body still.

Her supercilious smile is a mistake.

The soldier next to her is momentarily distracted. I
have my hand on the hilt of his sword before he knows
it. It is out of ist scabbard befor he can react and
its point is buried in his gut before he can scream.

I seize the womans carefully coiffed tresses, and
force her head back exposing her throat to the point
of my sword.

"Nooo!" Maximus stares wide eyed, and the soldiers
around me pull their swords from their scabbards.

She is not so clever now. Her lip is curled and one
eye stares at me with expressionless animal fear.

"Back!" he shouts at the soldiers, knowing that I can
kill his wife before they can kill me.

Not that I care. In fact the only reason she is not
yet dead is because I am enjoying her fear. Only now
does it occur to me that I could use her to make my
escape.

Suddenly a womans voice rings clear over the arena.

"Antiope, over here!"

It is Karelia.

Will continue in chapter 7...