Tanys Gladiatrix (The Chronicles of Tanys Book 2) (17 page)

Tanys staggered backward, her free hand covering her abdomen where the beastman's kick had left her bruised and bleeding. She quickly parried a slash from the satyr's hooked axe and smashed the pommel of her sword into his broad nose, stunning him.

She danced clear of his backswing and stepped in, sinking the tip of her blade into his furry shoulder. The husky warrior took no heed of the wound, shrugging her weapon aside and driving his mailed fist up into Tanys' ribs with such force that she was lifted momentarily off her feet. Staggered and breathless, Tanys braced herself against the wall to recover her strength. The satyr did not press the attack. A moment later, Tanys understood why.

The Malchesse appeared again in the room behind the gray-furred warrior. With him stood a dozen armed guards, both satyr and human, all in the red livery of Malchesse House. Tanys spat in disgust and turned toward the stairs only to see five more guards waiting for her at the top.

"Duke Sacru'Lac is dead, Master," one of the guards at the top of the stairs called down.

"A great tragedy," the Malchesse answered, straightening his robes.

Tanys howled with rage, lunging toward the Malchesse, but the cluster of guardsmen easily repelled her attack, forcing her back against the wall again.

"Face me, devil!" Tanys hissed, her eyes wild with hate.

The Malchesse stiffened, his golden eyes narrowing. When he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous. "Hear me, slave. For the service you have done my people, I will spare your life this night, but do not test my patience further. Throw down your weapon and submit."

"You'll kill me anyway," Tanys said.

"True enough," the Malchesse sighed, "but you will die in the arena... and you will live long enough to see the Duke's cur die before you."

"You're going to kill Torke?"

"I have much to do before I retire," the Malchesse said, turning away, "Chain the Duke's assassin and this slave as well. If she resists... do with her as you please."

Tanys watched him leave the room. The guardsmen drew closer, their weapons ready. She knew there were far too many to fight. She only hoped that Jorva had gotten word to the others. Perhaps Baran was with them and was safe. Tanys cast aside her sword in disgust, lowering her head as the red guards closed in.

"Do you know what they do to people who kill royalty?"

Tanys opened her eyes to see Torke lying on the floor of the cell next to her. A dusty beam of morning sun streamed in from a barred window high above. Like her, the faun had been beaten and lay, arms tied behind his back and naked except for a ragged bundle of stained bandages bound over his groin. He smiled grimly, showing a gap in his teeth. One of his eyes was swollen shut.

Tanys tried to move. She wanted to be the one to finish him off. Her wrists burned, leather cords biting into her flesh. Her ankles as well had been trussed, and she could do little more than writhe helplessly on the cold stone floor.

"You bastard," Tanys groaned.

Torke let out a rasping laugh, rolling onto his back. "I have to admit," he said, "you repaid me in full. Well done, Tanys."

"I'm not done with you yet!" she spat.

"What more do you want to take from me?" he asked, laughing bitterly, "It's not enough to put a knife in my balls, you've got to put a sword in my patron? That's just insulting!"

"I only wish my aim had been a bit higher," she said.

"You might have saved us both a great deal of pain," he said, "Still, I'm not one to question the whims of fate." Torke arched his back, groaning with effort.

Tanys watched in disbelief as the battered faun twisted his body, contorting himself until he was able to slip one of his hooves backwards between the cords binding his wrists. Torke wept and gasped as his shoulders strained against the pressure. He shuddered as his left shoulder dislocated with a sickening pop.

"Guards!" Tanys shouted, but no one answered her cries.

Torke gasped and groaned as he forced his legs through the loop of his arms. Bright blood dripped from the wet clump of bandages in his lap. Suddenly he stretched himself sidelong upon the floor as his arms slipped free of his hooves, his bound hands now in front of his body. He lay, panting for a few moments while Tanys cried out for the guards to no avail. Lifting his wrists to his mouth, he plucked at the leather cords with his teeth. He paused only to spit out a loose tooth before continuing the grim work of freeing himself.

Tanys grew weary of shouting and lay on her side, watching as he worked himself free of his bindings. He smiled weakly at her as he massaged the feeling back into his wrists. He gingerly lifted the edge of his bandage to survey his wound, wincing slightly as he did. Torke leaned back against the filthy cell wall, looking down at Tanys with an expression of pained amusement.

"You do know that most people would take advantage of this situation," he laughed.

"Go to hell!" Tanys said.

Torke chuckled softly, leaning his head back. "The truth of it is, I'm too tired to kill you. And, anyway, I couldn't hope to do it as gruesomely as they will."

"At least I'll get to watch you die too."

Torke shook his head. "No, I don't think I'm going to let them kill me today."

"Whatever you're going to do then, hurry up and do it!" Tanys growled, "I'm sick of looking at your face!"

Torke nodded, dusting off his hands. He got to his feet, leaning against the wall for support. His shaggy knees trembled from exertion as he stepped to the center of the room. Gauging the height of the small, barred window, he crouched low. With a mighty leap, Torke propelled himself upward, grasping the bars of the window and pulling his body toward the little square of light. His hooves scraped against the wall, and he whimpered as a fresh trickle of blood ran down his thigh. At last, he managed to draw himself up into a ball, perched on the window's stony sill.

"Hey! Gelding!" Tanys got his attention, "I'll see you again."

"Look for me in the crowd at the arena today then," he smiled, "I intend to enjoy every moment of your horrible death."

Tanys watched him squeeze into the narrow gap between the bars. Torke groaned and gasped, his joints popping loudly. Then sunlight filled the room once more, and he was gone.

The ray of sunlight had crossed nearly a third of the cell floor by the time the guards returned. Tanys laughed at their surprise in finding only one prisoner in the room. They seemed in too great of a hurry to spare much time searching for the missing satyr. Tanys was lifted to her feet and dragged through the door.

Suspended between the arms of two massive beastmen, Tanys closed her eyes and prepared herself for whatever was to come.

Eventually the cool shadows of the underpits gave way to the warmth of the Cashuunite sun. Tanys felt its light on her face and the sands of the arena mounding up over her toes as she was dragged from darkness. She opened her eyes upon a scene of chaos.

The stands of the arena were filled with what seemed the entire populace of the Holy City. Even the upper levels were packed with satyrs and their retinues. Columns of gray smoke roiled in the sky over the arena, casting dark shadows that drifted across the sun-bleached sands of the arena floor. The vast structure reverberated with the angry roar of the assembled throng.

The beastmen carried Tanys to the center of the arena where stood a pair of wooden stocks upon a stone dais. This was to be an execution rather than a deathwatch.

Tanys cursed and struggled against the warriors who held her, questioning both their honor and lineage in the foulest terms. They paid her no heed, though it took six of them at last to fix her wrists securely in the stocks. Her legs were pulled behind her and her ankles shackled so that she was forced to strain against her bonds to keep her weight off of her neck as it lay, secured by an iron band to the frame of the stocks. The device's twin stood empty across from her, and Tanys wondered if, somewhere in the crowd, Torke was now laughing at the sight.

The guards stepped back to admire their handiwork. One of them knelt to test the fastness of her shackles. Satisfied, he stood again, running his hand up the inside of Tanys' thigh. She cursed loudly, straining to close her legs, but her bindings left her splayed and defenseless as he fondled her. He dealt a stinging slap across her bare bottom. "Meat for the beasts, boys!" he laughed.

Tanys hung in the stocks, flushed with shame and rage. The guardsmen moved away as a group of robed satyrs approached the center dais. Tallest among them stood the Malchesse.

A momentary flash of anger passed over the black faun's face at the news of Torke's escape. His passionless demeanor soon reasserted itself, and he took his place beside a rotund satyr whom Tanys recognized as the arena's Caller.

The Caller stepped forward, shouting for silence in a booming voice that could not easily be ignored. Even so, it was only by considerable effort and no shortage of dire warnings, that he brought the roar of the mob down to a murmur.

"Blessed people of the Holy City," the Caller shouted, "We have been the victims of an unspeakable crime."

He paused only a moment to catch his breath, almost losing the crowd again before he could continue, "Today... today we shall have justice!"

The mob responded with a cacophony of mingled cheers, curses, and shouted accusations. The group of nobles standing on the dais looked nervously to the Malchesse for guidance. His thin lips curled back in annoyance, and he nodded for the Caller to continue.

"This is the slave who plunged the knife into the heart of our beloved Prince." The Caller indicated Tanys with a sweep of his arm.

A roar of anger swept through the arena. Some called for Tanys' blood. Others only shouted, "Liar!" Cries of dismay rippled through the crowd as armed satyr guardsmen, wielding clubs, shoved their way into a menacing perimeter around the slave section.

"This is getting out of hand!" a satyr noble muttered.

"Hold your tongue, if you wish to keep it!" the Malchesse hissed, "Caller, finish this!"

The Caller bowed his head and lifted his voice. "This murderer is sentenced to death by tooth and by claw. Let justice be done!" The crowd responded with a mighty roar as fights began to break out in the stands.

"Nobles!" Tanys shouted after the retreating satyrs, "You know he's going to kill you next."

The robed satyrs looked back over their shoulders, their eyes fearful and uncertain. The Malchesse continued on, showing no sign that he heard her at all.

Tanys slumped in her bonds, the iron ring pressing against her throat as she relieved the strain on her trembling legs. For a moment, she wondered if it might be possible to choke herself into unconsciousness to escape the pain of being eaten alive, but, even now, she could not let herself give in to defeat.

She strained with all her strength against the bonds that held her to no avail. Gasping, she locked her shaking knees, supporting herself on her aching toes. Sweat ran down her pendulous breasts and dripped onto the dusty black stone of the dais.

A shouted order called for the release of the animal that would be her executioner. She had seen other slaves die this way when she first arrived in the Holy City. She could only hope that the beast chosen for her was very hungry and large enough to finish the job quickly. The memory of a girl she had seen given to a curious baboon sprang to mind in vivid detail.

No, the Malchesse would want to dispose of Tanys quickly, and move on to securing his status as the city's new ruler. This hope alone remained to her as the sound of a rusty gate swinging open carried to her from across the arena.

Scattered cheers erupted as the crowd focused its attention on the beast entering the arena. Tanys strained to see its approach, but could in no way turn her head.

The sound of something large and heavy pounded towards her from behind. Tanys' heart raced with fear, and she struggled once again to free herself. She clenched her eyes tightly shut, trying to summon the mystical strength within her that had saved her life before. It wavered and slipped from the grasp of her panicked mind.

Suddenly the beast was upon her. It pounded to a halt as it reached the stone dais. Tanys heard it snort, feeling its hot breath on her exposed backside. She dug her fingernails into her palms and bit her lip, hoping to overwhelm her senses with pain, readying herself for the agony to come.

A large, soft nose pressed against her bottom, sniffing her scent. Tanys whimpered, almost hyperventilating with fear and anticipation. The animal snorted again.

Tanys gasped, her breath exploding from her chest, as she could bear the tension no longer. She lifted her buttocks high, pressing her naked flesh to the creature's mouth. "Hurry up and fucking eat me!" she shouted.

Tanys inhaled sharply as a rough tongue dragged up between her legs and began lapping tenderly at her buttocks.

"Ghodn?" she asked.

The big gray tiger sauntered around the front of the wooden stock, a perplexed look on his feline features. Tanys released all of her tension and fear in a hearty laugh. "I could kiss you!" she said. Ghodn obliged with a lick to her face. Laughter swept through the arena, overwhelming the angry cries of the Caller and his guards.