[Gabriel]
"Who was he?" Gabriel asked, sitting up on his cot and rubbing sore ribs.
"His name is Sabre," Augar replied, sitting on his own cot. "A cousin in the Khan family. Too entitled was he even for them, so they sent him here to learn some manners. You made a potent enemy, my friend."
Oh, great. "Well," Gabriel shook his head, "It doesn't seem like he learned anything. So, who is the Khan family, anyway?"
"You know this not?" Augar dropped his jaw. "They be the most powerful family on this world. You would do well to remember that. They rule this province by force, including the city. Anything done here be by their blessing."
"That's not a good government system."
Augar sighed. "It wasn't always this way. Although never prosperous, Ephenia was an honorable world. Soon after the Sol Empress' murder, the Trade Consortium took over and appointed the prime families to rule. Try I did to oppose them. Now, here I be." He shook his head. "Such a loss that the Line ended."
Words of assurance that the Line of the Empress still existed came to Gabriel's lips, but he held them back. Instead, he said, "For what it is worth, I am no fan of the Consortium. They want me and my sister dead."
Augar grinned. "You truly have powerful enemies, my friend."
Gabriel found his standing heightened among the others in the cell, communicated by nods and even verbal thanks. Apparently, nobody liked Sabre. When the next meal arrived, they allowed Gabriel to the front of the line.
Sura smiled at him as she ladled out a measure of stew into his bowl and allowed him extra bread. She whispered, "I have not found your sister, but will continue looking. Others are helping too."
A tingle crawled through Gabriel's gut. He didn't know if this was good news or bad news. Please be well, Hope. He whispered back to Sura, "Thank you."
After dinner, two guards in the same green and red uniforms strolled into the cell. One gazed down at a tablet viewer, which led him to Gabriel. The guard motioned Gabriel to rise. "Come with us."
"Why?"
"It's your turn in the Ring." The guard grinned. "We have a special opponent for you."
Rising, Gabriel asked Augar, "What do I have to do?"
With a grim face, the old man replied, "Survive."
Gabriel's stomach knotted as they walked down a long dim hallway constructed of stone block and a muffled crowd roar met his ears. "What is your name?" the guard with the viewer said.
"Gabriel."
"Like the angel?"
"Yeah, because I am so angelic."
The guard chuckled as he entered something on the tablet. "That's what we will call you. Angel. The crowd will like that."
They emerged into the arena waiting area, which held a row of small metal-mesh cages with dirt floors, Gabriel going into one. Through a series of barred arched doorways came bright light and the ebbs of a cheering crowd. The Ring, he presumed. Periodically, two men jumped into the narrow view wearing the black prison garb, slashing at each other with knives.
Another prisoner entered the area and sneered at Gabriel as he passed, shooting menace from fiery eyes. Pointing a finger, he spat his words. "You're dead, khara!"
It was Sabre. This just keeps getting better.
In gladiator type matches, there was always gambling, Gabriel thought. He caught the attention of the guard with the tablet viewer. "What are my odds?"
The guard scrolled through his viewer. "The book is nine to one against you."
Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "If you want to make some money, place a wager on me."
Eventually, the crowd noise faded to murmurs. The guard led Gabriel to a long rack filled with various weapons, from swords and knives to mauls and staffs, some spattered with dried blood. "Choose," the guard said. After some consideration, Gabriel picked up a long wooden staff, something he had used in martial arts training. The guard shook his head, apparently not in approval of the selection, then took Gabriel by the arm to an opening at the Ring edge.
The Ring lived up to its name, a circular arena of about fifteen meters in diameter surrounded by a menacing razor-barbed cable fence supported by metal poles. Outside of the fence, the bleachers rose high, carved out from the limestone of a natural amphitheater. Across the way, several people in brightly colored clothing sat in high-backed chairs under the shade of a green and red striped awning. Must be the Khan. One caught his eye, a large man with a golden head-wrap and a wide frowning dark face.
An announcer blared over the crowd din with an energetic voice. "Next, we have a special grudge match with an undefeated champion versus an unknown newcomer. These two share no love and anything might happen! All know our first fighter. SABRRRRE!" The crowd erupted in boisterous applause. From his vantage point, Gabriel watched his opponent prance about the Ring, holding high a curved sword.
The guard pushed Gabriel forward into the Ring, slamming the door behind him as the announcer continued. "And our next fighter, from beyond our world. ANGELLLL!"
Gabriel grimaced at the less than enthusiastic applause.
Sabre pointed his sword and taunted in a loud voice. "After you die, I will be free. And that little bird, she will sing for me."
In response, Gabriel lowered the end of his staff and drew a large circle on the sand floor. Sabre wrinkled his forehead in confusion. Gabriel added several stylized spirals, radiating out from the central circle. The crowd hushed. Many would recognize the sign of the Sol Way.
At the blare of a horn, the crowd revived with cheers. Sabre charged, snarling while holding his sword high.
His first tactical mistake. This kind of attack is easy to counter.
Gabriel sidestepped the charge, pushing aside the flashing blade with his staff. Twisting and stepping forward, he swung the staff around to smack his opponent in the arse. With the extra momentum, Sabre stumbled forward, nearly toppling over. The crowd roared with laughter. Baring teeth, Sabre seethed at the humiliation.
All rage and no finesse. I can use that against him.
Beckoning with four fingers, Gabriel invited Sabre to attack again. He did, jumping forward and slashing with furious swings, left and right. He met each cut with a staff block. Sensing an opening, Gabriel swung his staff down, thumping his opponent on the forehead. As Sabre stumbled back, Gabriel moved forward with two hard thrusts to the chest, then swept Sabre's legs out from under him with a low swing of the staff. Sabre landed on his back with a thump.
The crowd roared in approval.
"Stay down!" Gabriel ordered while pointing the staff. "And you walk away."
"Go to hell!" Sabre cursed as he jumped to his feet, shifting the sword from hand to hand.
Having learned from his previous mistakes, Sabre advanced slowly, stabbing forward with his curved sword in rapid succession. Gabriel backed up to avoid the stabs, using his staff to block but not finding an opening to counterattack. Sabre feinted the next stab, then launched a series of furious swings with both hands on the hilt, using the leverage of size and strength to pound away at the defense. Each swing pushed Gabriel back a step toward the barbed cables that surrounded the arena. The thunk of steel against wood echoed within the ring above the crowd din.
Eventually, the cables halted Gabriel's retreat. Growling, Sabre slammed his sword down hard against the staff and pushed. Pinned against the cables, the sharp points pierced Gabriel's back, the roar of the crowd drowning out his cry.
"Now you die!" Sabre hissed. Leaning in to press harder, his blade edged closed on Gabriel's neck. Only a wavering staff, held vertically, kept it away.
Not today.
Firming his resolve, Gabriel smashed down with his staff onto Sabre's foot. As Sabre howled from the pain, Gabriel shifted his stance, twisting to push the sword away. Turning further, he spun the staff around to whack his opponent on the back of the head. Then Gabriel extended a leg and pushed down with the staff, tripping Sabre into the cables.
The force of the fall pushed Sabre's head through the tight wires. With a grimace, Gabriel pushed against the staff, dragging Sabre's neck across the razor-sharp barbs. A gush of crimson blood burst out from his throat, splattering on the sand. Gabriel stepped back as Sabre trembled, his gaping mouth letting out only raspy gasps. Eventually, he stilled and slumped down with his neck hooked over the cable.
The fight was over.
Gabriel ignored the raucous applause of the crowd, who all rose to their feet. With lowered head, he grieved, not for the man, but for himself. This kill was personal, close, intimate. What have I become?
When Gabriel looked up, he caught the eyes of the large man wearing the golden head-wrap, the one who appeared to be in charge, one of the Khan family. While the crowd cheered for Gabriel, this man frowned and shot menace from narrowed dark eyes.
Oh, crap. And I probably just killed one of his relatives.
After returning to the arena waiting area, Gabriel laid shirtless on his stomach across a metal gurney. He grunted as the medic pressed a gritty ointment into the deep cuts on his back.
"Pleased I am that you survived, my friend!" a joyful voice said. Augar extended a congratulatory hand.
"As am I, friend." Gabriel grasped Augar wrist in a shake, then wrinkled his forehead. "Why are you here?"
"My turn it is in the Ring." Augar grinned. "But it shall not go as they planned. This old man has one last act of defiance in him. Live well my friend!"
As a guard took Augar away into the Ring, Gabriel pondered his words. What did he mean one last act of defiance?
After a few moments, a realization struck him. No!
Gabriel jumped up from the gurney and ran toward the arena, but two guards intervened, grabbing him by the arms.
Once the announcer introduced the fighters, Augar threw off his helmet, sending skittering across the sand, and tossed down his sword. He dropped to his knees and lifted his arms to the sky. The crowd quieted to confused murmurs while his opponent stepped back and furrowed his brow. Enraged, the Khan leader at the other end of the arena jumped up and drew his hand across his throat, a command to execute.
"Augar, no!" Gabriel cried out from the sidelines, two guards holding him back.
Turning his head toward Gabriel, Augar smiled and put a hand across his heart. The other fighter, a tall lanky young man, advanced and plunged his blade into Augar's side. The old man hardly reacted, then blew a kiss to the sky before slumping to the sands.
Wresting his arm from one guard, Gabriel said to the other. "Let me go to him." The guard nodded and let go.
The crowd silenced as Gabriel gathered the old man into his arms, his eyes moistening. "Augar, why did you do that?"
His words came out raspy. "I shall die on my own terms. The Khan cannot take that away from me."
"Let me tell you a secret, my friend." Gabriel smiled, but a tear still traced his cheek. "The Line of the Empress lives on, there is a true heir."
"Could it be?" Augar said in a weak voice as his eyes glazed over.
"I know this to be true. I am the son of Empress Iona, born of a surrogate mother. And my sister, she is the Empress' heir."
Lightness came to Augar's face. "Then there is hope." He grasped Gabriel's arm and pleaded, "Please, if you can, save this world." The old man's eyes drifted closed and, with a last gasp, his breath halted.
Gabriel kissed the old man's forehead. Be at peace, my friend.
Rising from the sands, Gabriel carried Augar's stilled body away before the silent crowd.