Zanos twisted the other way, but Cutter’s kick grazed his left temple. Ignoring the pain behind his eyes, he kept rolling until he was on his back again and could grasp the leg of a chair. He tossed it at Cutter’s knees. Wood and bone collided, and the man roared in pain as he staggered backwards.
Zanos got to his feet. The two of them faced off across the room, neither moving for a long moment.
Then Cutter’s right hand slapped his hip and came up with his throwing knife by the blade. One of the corner spectators yelled a warning as Cutter let the blade fly.
But the gladiator didn’t move. The missile missed its target, and Zanos deftly plucked it from the air by its hilt.
Cutter staggered backwards again, this time in shock, and someone muttered an oath. Cutter’s blade never missed.
Zanos smiled nastily as he flipped the weapon into the air and caught it by the tip.
Cutter’s eyes darted left and right, but there was no one to help him.
He jumped to his left, grabbed up a small table as a shield-and let out a small gurgle as he fell over, the hilt of his own knife sticking out of his throat.
Corpse and table hit the floor with a loud crash, and then the room was silent. No applause, no cheers for the champion. The only roaring was in Zanos’ ears. He fought dizziness as he bent for his cloak. The throb of bruises pushed through his mental barriers, and pain in his right knee caused him to limp as he left the tavern.
This is insane, he thought bitterly. I’ll have to kill half the city before summer! There must be a better way of getting the money I need. We have to be out of the empire before we’re caught in the war.
“We” now included Astra. With the savages intent on murdering Readers, she was in grave danger. And if the savages had such powers as Zanos had heard, his band of refugees would need a Reader to guide them.
How he would persuade her, he didn’t know-but the time to approach her would be when he was finally ready to go. In the meantime, he must try to prevent her Reading his plans, such as they were.
Suddenly he stopped walking. A new plan came to him, full-blown. He laughed at its simplicity. Astra is right. I can’t defeat my enemies alone, so I’ll get myself an ally- a very powerful ally!
The next morning, he dressed in his most impressive clothes, went to the royal palace, and requested an audience with the Emperor. Zanos usually shunned his celebrity status, but this day he exploited it, adding all the charm and wit he could muster to work his way through the Emperor’s retainers.
Eventually he was escorted to one of the conference chambers, and left to wait for the Emperor. The portly, middle-aged man greeted him warmly, clasping the gladiators upper arms as though the two men were comrades in arms.
“Ah, the arena games just haven’t been the same since you retired, Zanos,” the ruler said.
“Thank you, majesty, ‘ Zanos smiled.
“You’ve come to make a contribution to the war effort?”
“Yes, ” Zanos nodded. “As the war fleet’s launching date approaches, each citizen must do his part to raise funds. I’m offering as my contribution a special arena match-myself against any single opponent of your choosing-with admission receipts to be donated to the military.”
“Excellent!” said the Emperor. “I like that! The greatest gladiator of the century coming out of retirement.
Why, every citizen in the empire would pay to see that-except the Readers, of course,” he added with a laugh.
Zanos hid his annoyance with a tight smile. He had no love for this soft, self-indulgent aristocrat sending thousands of people to war while he stayed safely at home.
“But finding an opponent worthy of you,” the ruler was continuing, “someone who can truly test your mettle… I thank you for bringing me this delightful challenge. I will send out word, and when such an opponent is found, the match will be announced.”
Zanos left the palace, inwardly smug. Now that the Emperor himself had an interest in Zanos’ affairs, the criminals would have to back off. Even better, this match would generate heavy gambling. If he wagered everything he owned on the outcome, Zanos could win enough money to make his dream a reality.
Just a little while longer, and I’ll be going home… home!
In the days of preparation for war, the city of Tiberium began to change. Political and social factions which ordinarily ignored or antagonized each other united against the threat of the savages. The Emperor and the senate met daily, as did the Council of Masters.
Astra was released from the infirmary into an Academy whose daily routine was interrupted by senators and generals seeking audience with Portia at all hours.
She picked up the threads of her duties, but with a keener interest in both state and Academy politics.
She used her powers carefully, not deliberately spying, but attempting to separate the strange facts from the even stranger rumors. Slowly she gained a picture of a nervous senate wanting to protect Aventine citizens from further attacks by the savages-but also
hoping that the army could regain the lands lost to the Adepts in the past few decades.
“It could happen,” Zanos agreed when she told him her speculations. She had stolen an hour from errands Portia had assigned her, and found him willing to take a break from his strenuous training for the upcoming bout. Nothing she told him violated her Reader’s Oath-and she quickly found that the rumors in the Academies were equally current in The Maze.
Despite the chill air, Zanos shone with sweat in the winter sunshine. He had been practicing with a wooden sword against some complex piece of machinery which, Astra noted, swung around to strike the athlete whose blow landed off the target. As she stood next to him, she became aware of the salt smell of his fresh sweat, and realized that he was wearing almost nothing-just a sort of breechclout.
His muscles rippled, even when he merely bent to pick up a rough towel to wipe himself off after his exertion, and Astra noticed once again how huge and powerful he was. She remembered him holding the collapsing building off the children they had rescued the day they met… his strength inspired her trust somehow, as if he could protect her. But that was nonsense-no mere man’s strength meant anything against the powers of the savage Adepts.
Zanos tossed the towel over the apparatus, and pulled a woolen tunic over his head. Not noticing Astra’s blush, he continued, “Ships are massing in the harbors. The army will probably attack the western coast, then march inland. If they move fast enough, they might take a good piece of territory before the Adepts unite against them. But when that happens, there is going to be a slaughter. “
It’s the Adepts who will do the slaughtering,” Astra said, letting Zanos lead her away from the practice field in the direction of his home. “I’ve heard that the sorcerers can turn ships to stone. If that’s true, our troops may never reach the land!”
“Every battle, every war has its ifs,” Zanos pointed out. “A gladiator faces them every time he steps into the arena: he might lose his life if his opponent is the stronger, or the smarter-or he might die simply because the gods frown on him that day.”
“Yes,” said Astra, as Zanos opened the door to his house and led her into the music room. “That brings me to the real reason I’m here. Why are you going to fight in the arena again?”
He explained that it was his contribution to the war effort, told her of the Emperor’s excitement- but she was not satisfied.
“Why would you want to endanger your life again? Surely not just out of patriotism.”
Zanos gave her a strange smile, and an old feeling came back to her-the sense that he was hiding something very important from her. A part of her wanted to violate the Reader’s Code and purposely invade his thoughts, but she wouldn’t, couldn’t do it even if she suspected him to be an enemy of the state.