“Congratulations,” she said. “I’m glad the idea worked. There’s been no retaliation from Vortius and his friends?”
“Not even threats. No one has seen Vortius lately. He’s not at his town house or his villa in the southlands. So far as anyone knows, he’s left the empire.”
“But where would he go?” she asked in amazement.
Zanos smiled at her sheltered innocence. “Surely you know both trade and smuggling go on outside the empire. I’m sure Vortius will be back-but if it takes a while, and he makes a rich haul, it may not be worth his while to try to break the united strength of the gladiators on his return.” And maybe before he tries it, 1 will be far away from here.
“When will you be out of the infirmary?” he asked, looking around the tiny room. “I’d like to celebrate our success with a music party, and you’re the first person I’m inviting.”
“I’ll be out in another day or so, and I’d love to come,” she said eagerly, then frowned. “But your friends would be uneasy with a Reader in their midst.”
“Well, we won’t tell them.” He shrugged. “My servants won’t say anything. Just don’t wear your robes or give your title. Play your lute with us. Once everyone gets to know you, you being a Reader won’t matter.”
“And if they ask where I come from? What I do?”
“They won’t,” Zanos replied. “Not in The Maze.”
“Very well, then, I’ll be there. ” And she smiled, that beautiful smile he’d waited so long to see again.
Zanos left the Academy less lighthearted than when he’d entered. Surely Astra’s news about Gaeta and the savages would mean war. But he wasn’t as concerned about war with the savages as about a widespread search for spies in Tiberium.
How ironic… I’m finally free of Vortius and his kind, only to be endangered by Adepts from the savage lands. But if I had the powers they’re reported to have…
The next day war was officially proclaimed, although there was no mention in the public statements of Adepts having caused the earthquake that had nearly destroyed the Gaeta hospital. Zanos sidestepped the sudden fervor for the war effort and concentrated on readying his wrestlers for the next evening’s matches. He went to bed satisfied that each of his men was ready.
Sometime after midnight, Ard awakened him to give him a note.
Zanos read it, dressed, strapped on his sword, and almost forgot to grab up his cloak as he ran out the front door.
Minutes later, he entered the Temple of Hesta. Serafon led him to one of the anterooms.
Massos lay on a large table, more dead than alive. He was covered with cuts and bruises, and the gladiator didn’t have to touch him to know that many of his bones were broken.
Zanos swore mightily as he strove to hold his anger in check. In the back of his mind rang the sound of Vortius’ mocking laughter.
“Who did this?” he demanded finally.
“Cutter. That was all he could tell me. He didn’t know why.”
” I know why,” Zanos growled. “This is Vortius’ way of telling me he’s back, and knows I’m the one who stopped his extortion. Cutter must have been waiting to see which of my men would break training. I thought that for a while at least-”
He left the sentence unfinished, not really angry at his fighter. He had misread Massos, humiliated him in front of his teammates, and really believed he wouldn’t retaliate with an act of disobedience. He’s paying for my mistake.
“Zanos.” Serafon’s tone was quiet but sharp. “What are you going to do?”
“Answer Vortius’ message,” he said curtly. “For the moment-just for the moment-I’ll still leave Vortius to you. But Cutter is mine. “
Cutter and his gang were well paid to act for those too fastidious to fight their own battles. Everyone in The Maze knew where they celebrated after one of their dirty jobs. And at this late hour-
“Can you take care of him yourself?” Zanos asked, nodding at Massos.
The old woman sighed. “Yes. He will be all right… eventually. “
“Fine,” he said as he stripped off sword and scab-bard. Unlike Cutter, Zanos had to remain within the law to continue in his profession. Even in The Maze, Aventine law would not protect him if he used a weapon.
Besides, he wouldn’t need it.
The Crying Maiden tavern was a dimly-lit meeting place for thugs and cutpurses. On this night there were few patrons-except for the six men Zanos was looking for. They sat at a large circular table by the far wall, none with his back to the room’s center. Their rowdiness had emptied the tables all around them, Zanos noted. So much the better.
“Massos is going to live!” he announced from the doorway, and smiled as the six stopped talking and looked in his direction. He entered with exaggerated calm, spotted the innkeeper, and tossed him a small pouch of coins.
Behind the gladiator and to his left, two stools scraped away from a table and two men left quietly, closely followed by the innkeeper. Several other patrons kept their seats, watching and waiting.
The six denizens of the gutter stared at Zanos with eyes full of contempt and strong wine.
“You recognize me, ‘ he said. “That’s good. You’re not too drunk to understand. I’m going to assume that you’re smart enough not to get up when you fall down. Because if you get up, you will die. “
Cutter, who was sitting directly across from him, let out a derisive laugh, revealing rotted and missing teeth. “Why don’t you just go home, Zanos? You’re not in the arena now. And you can’t count, eunuch.”
The insult drew laughs from the others. Zanos hadn’t known his deception had reached this deeply into the Maze. “Oh, I can count, all right. In fact, I can do a lot of things that would surprise you…” He noticed all of them slowly dropping their hands below the table, shoulder muscles tensing.
He braced himself. “I’m here because I got the
message you brought me from Vortius. And now you’re going to deliver my answer back to-”
“NOW!”
Sure enough, the table flipped over at Zanos, wine jugs and tankards flying. He easily jumped out of the way as they staggeringly launched themselves at him.
His jump back became a spinning kick, connecting with the attacker on the far left and breaking ribs. The man fell back, screaming, and collided with the thug beside him, taking both of them down.
The other four moved in two directions, seeking to trap the gladiator in a circle. Zanos’ left hand snaked out and grabbed up a chair by the edge of its seat. He turned and threw it to his right with lightning speed, nearly taking off the head of that thug, leaving him unconscious.
Now a triangle opposed him, all three in his range of vision, Cutter directly in front of him. The dark-haired leader yelled something at the one on Zanos’ right, but the ploy didn’t fool him; he looked to his left and ducked as a wine jug sailed past his ear and smashed against the wall.
The one who had been knocked over by Broken Ribs was on his feet again, charging from between Cutter and the jug thrower. He came in low, arms spread for a tackle.
Zanos set himself and carefully timed a knee-kick to the man’s chin. The head snapped loudly back, and it was a corpse that knocked him into a small table and sent him sprawling, the hem of his cloak wrapping around his legs.
Seeing their chance, Cutter and the other two leaped. Zanos unhooked the clasp of his cloak, then rolled out of the garment just as the first one was on him.
Zanos’ legs snapped up, both feet catching the thug in his groin and using the momentum to carry him over the gladiator’s head. He crashed into the wall, slid down it, and did not get up.
Cutter and his last henchman came at the fighter from two directions, murder in their eyes. The henchman reached him first, aiming a kick at Zanos’ head. The gladiator twisted out of the way, and the attacker lost his balance, fell backwards, and hit his head on a stone pillar.