"I don't want to fight," Jedra told him again.
"Too bad," Sahalik said, "because you're going to in three days."
That night, Kayan whispered to him from her bunk in their newly rebuilt quarters, "That was stupid. Now he'll just beat you even harder." It was the first time she had spoken to him on her own initiative since they'd been captured. They practiced separately by day, and on their previous nights, when she and Jedra might have at least taken some comfort from snuggling close to each other, she had preferred to sulk alone on her bunk, ignoring him.
Now he wasn't sure which was worse, but he said, "It doesn't matter. We'll be dead soon enough anyway."
"Not if I have anything to do with it we won't," she answered. "If we can use psionics in the arena, we'll win against anything they throw at us."
"Unless we have to fight other psionicists," Jedra said.
"We'll win against them, too."
"Yeah, that's what you said when we went up against these guys." Jedra nodded toward the psionicists who guarded them-just two, rather than the four that had been required to hold Kitarak. It didn't take all four to suppress their partially trained abilities; as long as they kept Jedra and Kayan from merging, two could handle them easily. It was a clear lesson to the would-be escapees: Sheer power didn't matter nearly as much as the ability to control it.
The psionicists had changed shifts again. The two old men hardly seemed to be paying attention-they were playing dice and laughing at jokes-but Jedra could feel their presence hovering over him, and he knew they would respond instantly if he and Kayan even mindspoke to one another.
Kayan glared at him. "You keep trying to make it my fault."
"No, I don't!" Jedra glared back at her. "I'm just tired of hearing about how invincible we are when we're not."
"All right, all right, we're weaklings and we're going to die in our very first battle, is that what you want to hear?
Does that make you happy?"
"Of course not." Jedra rattled the chains that bound him by his left leg to the wall. "But it's closer to the truth."
Shani never slept in the gladiators' quarters-she evidently spent her nights with Sahalik-but the human, a man in his thirties with just a touch of gray in his hair, did. He'd ignored Jedra and Kayan completely until now, practicing separately with Sahalik and sleeping whenever he wasn't training or eating, but now he lifted his head up from his bunk and said, "You two are going to make a great team in the arena. I pity your opponents; they're going to get argued to death." Then he rolled over and began to snore. Jedra was in the bunk between him and Kayan. He looked over at her, ready to share a good laugh, but his grin died when he saw the angry look on her face. Maybe the antisocial slave was right.
Sahalik, at least, seemed to think that they had a chance. The next day he and Shani took Kayan and Jedra out onto the practice field together and taught them fighting strategy.
"You'll be up against a dwarf named Lothar," he told them. "He fights with a curved sword, sharpened on both sides. Given your little display yesterday, Jedra, I think we'll give you a club, and Kayan, you'll have a spear." He tossed their weapons to them. Jedra's club was presumably the very one he would use in the arena, but Kayan's spear was only a shaft of wood with a rag tied around the end.
Shani carried the curved sword, also made of wood. "Pretend she's shorter and slower," Sahalik said, laughing. "You will fight and I will watch, and when I shout 'stop' I want you to freeze, and we'll examine what you're doing right or wrong. The basic idea is for Kayan to keep Lothar busy with the spear while Jedra beats him to death with the club, and if he gets too close, Jedra drives him back until Kayan can use the spear on him. Neither of you are to throw your weapon, and no fair spearing him in a vital spot until the crowd gets enough blood to be satisfied. Clear?"
"Whose blood?" Jedra asked.
Sahalik laughed again. "Anybody's blood," he said. "They're not choosy." He stepped back and shouted, "Go!"
Shani immediately leaped at Jedra and slashed at him with her curved sword. He jumped back, but not far enough, and the blunted edge caught him on the forearm as he raised his club to ward off the blow.
"Stop!" Sahalik shouted, and Shani froze. Jedra and Kayan froze a moment later, Jedra with his club still upraised, Kayan with the spear aimed somewhere between Shani and Jedra.
"You've just lost your right arm," Sahalik said. "And
ayan, you're about to spear your own companion in the side when he jumps back from the blade. All right, try it again."
They ran through the mock battle dozens of times, but never got beyond the first few seconds before Sahalik stopped them and pointed out another flaw in their strategy. By the end of the session, Jedra had a score of new bruises from the blunt sword, and his head felt overstuffed with all the advice he'd received.
They just had time to eat and catch their breath before they were at it again. This time Sahalik concentrated on their attacks, showing them how to harry Shani from two sides and disarm her.
"What about psionics?" Kayan asked at one point. "If we can use that in the battle, then why don't I just stop her heart-well, the dwarf's heart," she said with a wicked grin at Shani, "and be done with it?"
"Two reasons," Sahalik said. "One, that way isn't bloody enough for the crowd, and two, you won't be allowed to. You'll be handicapped by the temple psionicists to whatever level they decide is fair. We won't know what they'll allow you until you get into the arena, but don't count on much. Maybe the ability to dull your own pain, or boost your stamina if you start to fade too soon, but with two against one they're not going to let you have psionic weapons, too."
"But-" Kayan turned around, looking across the field at their psionic guards. "I thought we could use whatever we wanted on the battlefield."
Shani said in a soft, sinister voice, "Oh, that could be arranged. Of course, then you'd be fighting even more capable opponents on both the physical and the psionic level. Is that what you want?"
Kayan shuddered. "No," she said. She seemed to shrink a little, her former bravado completely gone now.
"Cheer up," Sahalik said, slapping her on the back with enough force to make her stagger. "Lothar's about as psionic as a rock. If you can give him a hangnail with your mental powers, it's better than he can do to you."
Kayan nodded. "That's a relief," she said, but she didn't sound sincere.
The next two days they practiced with thick leather armor that Sahalik said would stop all but the hardest sword blow, though the scores of cuts in it and the dark bloodstains around them didn't lend Jedra a whole lot of confidence. It did at least soften the blows from Shani's mock sword, even when she gave it all her strength. Sahalik also gave Jedra a small round shield to defend himself with while he bludgeoned her with his club. He gradually lost his fear of her weapon, and began to fight back like a true gladiator.
Kayan jabbed and swung her spear as directed, but the fire had gone out of her eyes after Sahalik's unwelcome news about their limitations. She hardly spoke to Jedra, on the practice field or in the evenings.
The day of the games dawned like any other on Athas: hot and sunny. Jedra was awake long before dawn, though, going over everything Sahalik had taught him time and time again. He didn't feel ready to face a hur-rum beetle-the harmless humming pet of the rich- much less an armed, intelligent dwarf.