Davion strode out onto the sand. He kicked off his boots and knelt on the coarse surface. He prayed for deliverance and that should he fall his spirit would be accepted into the Halls of the Victors.
He drew his sword, only a small weapon unlike his normal Greatsword. Arena combat needed speed instead of brute strength. He rubbed against the coarse linen around his stomach, put there to stop the entrails from escaping. The light from the chandeliers faded, the assassin entered, this man had a mark against Davion’s employer, a failed contract had forced Crason to dual Davion. A horrid business yet Davion had no choice, he had killed Crason’s partner, his brother, and naturally he demanded justice.
“What an odd society we live in,” thought Davion. “A murderer can demand a death dual and yet a simple thief will be hanged for stealing an apple to provide for his family. Still, the laws of society must be followed...”
Crason entered the arena with cheers from the crowd, he rallied support wherever he went, a charismatic person like he could succeed in society.
Crason glared at Davion, he held no fear in his eyes, merely a cold steely glare, Davion looked away, the dual would only have one result, and it would mean death for the other person, no hard feelings after.
The pit master called the Djinn bodyguard to ring the gong for silence, he boomed outwards with a powerful voice.
“Welcome, friends to the feature match tonight! Already we have had three gladiator deaths and a surprise victory for Hendak against a troll, where oh where did he get that acid from?” Grinned Lethinan, “Oh come now, Gloria, surely you can tell me?” A horrible, contorted smile found some way from escaping Lethinan’s lips. A thug appeared from the shadows of a doorway dragging a girl by a torn blouse. She was sobbing with red welt marks scattered on her face. In the nearby cells a blonde haired man roared in anguish, he started shaking the bars, like he was in a rage. Davion was familiar with a rage, after all, he had trained to release himself in combat like that.
Davion looked on in horror as the girl was dragged before Lethinan, he unsheathed a small dagger from his belt and was about to strike down on the poor serving girl before Davion cried out.
“My lord! A word if I may” The crowd booed and hissed, they had lost the opportunity for blood to be spilled.
“As you know, the victor of this fight would win any object of his desire, I wish to change my prize, I want the girl to be freed and her servitude given to me.”
The crowd became agitated, they wanted blood.
Lethinan demanded silence again.
“By the Gods man why would you want this, this wench! She is nothing!”
“My reasons are my own my lord, is my request granted?”
“Get on with man, I want this fight over!” cried Crason.
“Well, if you want it that bad then you will have to make a sacrifice, you have a choice, you fight with one arm or you fight blind.” He brandished a thick piece of black cord.
“I fight with one arm.”
“Oh a ****y one is it! Well then you shall have it as you wish! Tie him up!
Another thug appeared, he gruffly tied Davion’s left arm and left again.
“Let battle commence!”
The brass gong rung and Crason closed in quickly looking for a quick kill, his eyes gleamed with cold, murderous intent. He lunged at Davion, hoping to pierce a lung quickly. Davion was unused to the constriction of one arm and could not dodge quick enough, his left shoulder was knicked by the blade. He quickly round housed and kicked the feet out from under the assassin and only just a missed a decapitating cut when Crason rolled out of the way. Davion’s wound began to burn, he risked a look at it and noticed a festering cut. Crason had poisoned his weapon! Davion turned and faced Crason, his dark face was smirking at Davion.
“You like my little surprise?” Grinned Crason.
The wound was murderously painful, it burned like hellfire and Davion’s brow began to burn, the poison was getting into his immune system, he calmed himself. He needed the rage now.
Often people presumed that the rage was only something that gave you strength, it was often the most conscious choice yet Davion had gone on a different path, he required more control, better reflexes and a faster, cooler mind.
He worked into that state, found a cool spot and let his hours of training do the work for him, he attained the state of mind just as Crason lunged again.
With his new state of mind Davion deftly leapt backwards out of the lunge. He brought his sword up and parried a cross-slash from Crason and committed a lethal disembowelling lunge himself. He missed by a half an inch.
Crason began to worry now, he had not anticipated this, he struggled to even repel Davion’s thrust let alone attack, his mind drifted back to the night before…
They were running back from the mark when they met a figure in the alley, unknown to them it was Davion, they charged at him and he killed his brother, he was dead! A dark, overpowering rage came to him. A voice whispered in his mind.
“We can get him you know, I can give you your brother back and you can get your vengeance…”
“Cyric… Cyric, is that you? Have you answered me?”
“All you have to do is die…”
The voice faded from Crason’s mind.
He came back to the fight and saw the lunge, it was too late, Davion had pierced the lung.
The blood bubbled up his throat, he coughed and hacked blood onto the floor. He fell onto his knees, his vision faded, he felt his last breath came and Cyric’s dark smile was the last thing that Crason saw. He died on the floor of the pit.
Davion walked up to the banister where the Gloria was being held, Lethinan looked at Davion with disgust and walked off. Davions slumped to his knees, the poison was more powerful than he had thought.
Gloria helped him to his changing area and locked the door. She looked out of the bars in the door and knelt down beside Davion, she began to chant a spell...
Well, what do you think? Comments are appreciated, I’d like to know if you think I should carry on, as you can see a bit of a cliff-hanger here...
