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Wrath of the Storm Page 12


  "If he did, could he win this battle?" Livia asked.

  I spoke the words under my breath, hoping that against the sound of the crowd's applause she would not be able to hear me.

  "No. He cannot win."

  Radulf had barely gotten his footing on solid ground when the gladiator attacked him for the first time, swinging for a quick victory with the sword in his hand. Radulf dodged it, but made no reply with the mace he had been given. I wasn't sure how much experience Radulf had with a mace -- probably not as much as with a sword. But Radulf had relied on his magic for so long, I doubted he really knew how to fight without it anymore.

  I wondered if that would eventually happen to me. I loved the feel of magic, the strength and power it offered. But I didn't want to need it, to be useless without it.

  The gladiator charged at Radulf again, his sword above his head, ready for a strike. Radulf stood as if welcoming the attack, then at the last moment stepped aside, leaving one leg in the gladiator's path, tripping him. The gladiator fell forward and Radulf hit him in the back with the blunt end of his mace. It would leave a bruise, but nothing else.

  "Why didn't he do more?" Aurelia asked. "That was his moment."

  The crowd had a mixed response to Radulf's non-attack. They half booed what they saw as his cowardice. And half cheered, expecting he was only toying with the gladiator before launching his real assault. Nobody cheered because Radulf had shown mercy. Nobody in Rome ever cheered for that.

  Radulf limped away without noticing the gladiator jump to his feet, ready for revenge. He raised his sword again, and Radulf still hadn't turned around. It would be an easy defeat ... unless I helped. With a little swipe of my fingers, the gladiator fell forward, as if his sandals had been laced together.

  Laughter erupted throughout the audience as the crowd shouted out insults about the gladiator's clumsiness. Embarrassed and ready to redeem himself, the gladiator got to his feet again, this time lunging toward Radulf with his sword outstretched.

  Unfortunately for him, he tripped on those invisibly laced sandals a second time. I shouldn't have been grinning to see it, but I couldn't help it. The audience roared with laughter, and the gladiator remained seated, clearly confused. He checked his feet to see what the problem might be, and looked even more confused when he couldn't see any problem at all.

  Radulf knew what had happened. He stopped walking and began scanning the stands with his hand over his eyes to block the sun.

  "He's looking for you," Livia said, glancing sideways at me.

  Maybe he was, but he'd never see me up here, almost high enough in the stands to reach the clouds, and only one of fifty thousand other Romans in attendance. Since I wasn't close enough to see his expression, I chose to believe he wasn't entirely annoyed with me.

  Cautiously this time, the gladiator got to his feet, testing his balance before taking his first step forward. I allowed that and instead focused on his sword, pouring heat into the metal until the gladiator's fingers began twitching. When the metal itself began to smoke, he threw it onto the sand and then gently rubbed his burned hand.

  Livia giggled. "What's next?"

  "A terrible fit of hiccups, I think." I smiled over at her, though I doubted that trick was within my abilities. It would be fun to see.

  Aurelia tugged at my arm. "What is Brutus doing?"

  Brutus had leaned in toward Emperor Probus and was speaking to him while gesturing down at the gladiator fight. After a moment, Crispus noticed the conversation and spoke too, though the emperor was looking only at Brutus.

  "I don't like this," Livia said.

  I didn't either. From this distance, it was difficult to see anyone's expressions, but Crispus's body was rigid, and Brutus was clearly angry. Probus nodded, and then Brutus stood at the edge of the imperial box and raised his arms for the attention of the crowd. Everyone grew silent, and the gladiator stood with one arm across his chest, in respect of the emperor.

  "Nicolas Calva!" Brutus yelled. "The emperor demands you show yourself at once."

  Livia gripped my arm, her nails digging into the flesh. Beside me, Aurelia gasped and whispered, "You shouldn't have heated that sword."

  "Do you really think the sword is the problem?" I scowled. "It's the reason Brutus and I are not friends -- that's what you think?"

  "This is what I warned you about before," Aurelia said. "You take the wolf by the ears and expect it won't try to bite!"

  "The wolf down there is already biting!" I said. "Better me than Radulf!"

  "Show yourself, Nicolas," Brutus repeated. "Or I will order this match to end."

  Just beyond the arena wall, I saw archers positioned with arrows already nocked in their bows. All it would take was an order to fire. I could shield Radulf from their arrows, and even from the gladiator's blows, but not permanently.

  To make his point, Brutus nodded, and the gladiator suddenly lunged at Radulf, knocking him down onto his back. Along with most of the crowd, I stood, trying to see better, and realized the gladiator was fighting Radulf for the mace. They exchanged a few blows, though Radulf was in the much weaker position and received far more hits than he gave.

  Livia cried, "Help him, Nic!"

  By the time I had a clear look at what was happening, the gladiator had the mace in his hands and had already used it to take at least one hard swing at Radulf, who still lay on his back, either unconscious or close to it. I used magic to take control of the mace and raise it high in the air. The gladiator had been holding it so tightly that he rose with the mace and dangled midair. He wouldn't dare let go now.

  "Do you think I won't let the gladiator die?" Brutus yelled. "Do you think I won't sacrifice as many people as it takes until you kneel before me in this arena?"

  Crispus was on his feet, speaking to Probus, and this time he had the emperor's attention. But whatever he said clearly wasn't going well, because when Probus stood, Crispus went to his knees and was shaking his head.

  Brutus signaled to his archers, who raised their bows to the gladiator. I didn't want him killed for my actions. This was between me and Brutus, not someone who was probably as much a slave of the empire as I had once been. So I lowered him to the ground, then raised a shield around Radulf.

  Surprisingly then, Probus said something to his guards, who shouted an order into the arena that I couldn't hear.

  Livia gripped my arm. "What's happening?"

  Before I could answer, the gladiator bowed to the emperor, dropped his weapon, and was escorted out of the arena. Radulf remained in there alone. He was also on his knees now, though I suspected that had more to do with the injuries he had just received than with his respect for the emperor.

  A hush fell over the crowd as they waited for what Probus would do next. Had Radulf been pardoned -- would he go free? It certainly looked that way.

  "This is your chance," Livia said. "Go down there and disappear with him."

  "Don't go down there," Aurelia said. "It's a trap, but I can't see how, and that worries me."

  "He has the Malice," Livia said. "Even if it's a trap, Nic can win!"

  "No, I can't." My heart sank. Those same guards brought Crispus to his feet and thrust a bow into his hands, then walked him beside Decimas Brutus at the front of the imperial box. They stood behind him with swords raised, communicating a very clear message. Should Crispus refuse the orders he had obviously just been given, the swords would fall on him. Crispus was supposed to shoot the arrow to end Radulf's life. They were making Crispus do it.

  The shield I'd placed around Radulf would protect him for several minutes, but what would happen to Crispus if he failed to shoot, or if he tried and missed? Radulf was not the only one in danger now.

  Seeing the arrow raise toward him, Radulf only stood and called up something to Crispus that I couldn't hear. Based on what I'd seen of Radulf since he'd come back from the Mistress, I suspected Radulf was telling him everything was all right and that he didn't blame Crispus for what was about to hap
pen. But Crispus still shook his head and brushed at his eyes with the back of one hand.

  "The emperor offers a trade, Nicolas," Brutus called. "Show yourself. Save the general."

  "This will never end," I said, more to myself than for anyone else. "All they want is me."

  Aurelia's eyes locked with mine, and in hers I saw fear and sorrow and the same dread that went to the core of my own body too. She wanted to say something -- I felt that urgency in her, but in the end, there were no words to be spoken.

  I couldn't let Radulf die.

  I couldn't let Crispus be the one to do it.

  And I couldn't pretend there was any reason this was all happening, except for one reason alone: They wanted control of me.

  "I'm afraid, Nic," Livia said.

  Aurelia reached across me to take her hand. And though Aurelia whispered words of comfort, I saw Aurelia's fingers shaking too.

  I closed my eyes long enough to call out a request to Caela. I needed her help and hoped she would come. Then I held out my right arm to Livia.

  "Unlace the Malice."

  Her eyes widened. "No! Use it to stop what's happening."

  "Magic is not the solution," I said. "Every time I try it, the Praetors counter it with a trick of their own, and every single time, I end up in worse trouble."

  Brutus called out again, "Nicolas, do you think you can stop this arrow by shielding the general? It's costing you strength you will need very soon."

  This was true, and it worried me.

  "Hurry, Livia," I said. "I will solve this, I promise. But not with the amulets."

  With my other arm, I removed the bulla from around my neck. I immediately felt the change in the weight. Soon I would feel the loss of its power too.

  I gave the bulla to Aurelia, who shook her head at me. "You're going down there without magic?"

  "I have two choices left. One is to stop the Praetors, permanently."

  "You're going to kill Brutus?" Livia asked. "Don't do that, Nic. Even for Brutus, it's wrong!"

  "The second is to make them believe these amulets are destroyed, that I have no magic to create a Jupiter Stone."

  "If they think you have no magic, the punishment they will give you --" Aurelia drew in a sharp breath. "It will be awful."

  "I can stop Brutus before that happens. And if I don't, then at least I can make him believe the amulets are destroyed."

  With that, Livia finished removing the Malice. "What should we do with these?" she asked.

  "Go find Callistus, in the stables of Aurelia's home. He'll carry you to a safe place to hide them."

  Livia shook her head. "If people notice us leaving and follow us, what then?"

  "Keep the amulets hidden in your robes while you leave. And if there's trouble, you have Aurelia. She'll keep you safe." I took my sister's hand and gave it a firm squeeze. "You must leave this arena immediately, no matter what happens below." In fact, I wanted her to leave before anything happened down there. Either way, it would be ugly.

  She nodded and then I turned to Aurelia, who said, "Come back from this, Nic. Remember your promise to me."

  I reached over and pulled Aurelia toward me, then kissed her lightly on the cheek. It wasn't much of an answer. It wasn't any answer at all, but it was the only thing I could do.

  When she leaned away, she used the back of her hand to brush at a stray tear, then stood. "Let's go, Livia. I don't want to see this. I can't see it."

  Livia gave my hand one last squeeze, then stood and followed Aurelia into the tunnels behind our seats.

  Down on the arena floor, Radulf was still standing before Crispus, both of them waiting for my shield to fail. Blood ran down the left side of Radulf's face, and he had drawn one arm close to his chest, as if it were injured.

  I focused on him so intently that when I closed my eyes, I could see him in my mind. Going into the arena would take nearly all the magic still left from the bulla. The Divine Star would continue to help me, but I wasn't as experienced in using its lesser magic. My time was now as limited as my options ever were. Hopefully, what I'd bring with me into the arena would be enough.

  I felt my body leave the seats in the stand and the compression of traveling through nothingness to suddenly land on my feet on crunchy sand. The audience's loud gasps followed by almost total silence told me I was in the arena now.

  I opened my eyes, a little disoriented at first. Thousands of faces were staring down at me, more than what they had appeared when I was in the stands. I was almost directly in front of the imperial box, standing between Crispus's arrow and Radulf. The emperor's soldiers immediately gathered in closer, ready to protect their emperor, if harming him was my intention. They were lucky I had other plans. Besides, standing by the emperor would only put them at risk too. My aim with magic was never as good as I wanted it.

  Up close, Probus seemed more human than he had while at a distance. His eyes looked tired, and he bore visible scars from his past military battles. I was tired too, exhausted from so many fights, so much running. For all his power, the emperor was at risk of my magic. And for all my magic, I could still be brought to my knees by this empire.

  Seeing me now, Brutus stood taller in the foreground, and a wicked smile widened across his face. He must've thought his plan to trap me had finally worked. But he never considered that I would've had my own ideas about coming here.

  I turned in a circle, this time looking for the archers. They had been easy to spot when I was up high in the stands, but from here they were nearly invisible. Maybe I didn't need to see them. It was enough to know they were there, and had plenty of arrows if Crispus failed.

  In a loud voice, Emperor Probus said, "Your name is Nicolas Calva. You are the escaped slave with magic stolen from the gods."

  I faced him, hands down and palms open. "I came to accept your offer. Allow the general to leave this stadium, unharmed."

  Radulf barely spoke, but I heard him. "Fool grandson, how many times must I order you not to save me?"

  One corner of my mouth curved upward. "As many times as you wish to have your orders ignored, sir."

  "He can leave the stadium," Brutus said. "If he can walk out on his own."

  Probus didn't seem to enjoy the joke, but he didn't correct Brutus either.

  With all eyes on him, Radulf nodded at the emperor, then took a step toward the nearest gate. His attempt failed, and Radulf immediately fell forward onto the sand floor. I heard his grunt of pain and hurried over to help him get up. There was no time to heal him here, nor did I have the magic for it. But I could help him stand in front of the emperor and face the citizens of Rome as an honored general, not a fallen victim of a second-rate gladiator.

  "This is all wrong," Radulf mumbled. "I'm getting what I deserve."

  "Forgiveness is real," I said. "You've suffered enough."

  Above us, Crispus was talking to the emperor again. This time, Probus was nodding and looking at both me and Radulf.

  Finally, Probus announced to the audience, "I have made my decision. It is one of justice balanced with mercy. The general cannot be allowed to remain in Rome, but in exchange for Nicolas Calva's arrival in the arena, I will let the general live. I sentence Radulf to be exiled from the empire, immediately."

  That was exactly my plan. I scanned the skies for any sign of Caela, then said to Radulf, "You are going to Britannia and there will make a home with my mother, and soon with Livia and Aurelia."

  Radulf put a hand on my shoulder. "What about you?"

  I shrugged and let my eyes fall from his gaze. "You know what I have to do."

  Radulf nodded, but before he could speak, Caela's caw echoed down into the amphitheater and her great form created a shadow upon us. Cheers erupted from the audience when they saw her, and I helped Radulf limp over to where she would land.

  "I am so very sorry," Radulf said once he was on Caela's back. "My boy, you deserve none of what has come to you."

  My shoulders straightened in grim determin
ation. "I will come back from this, you'll see."

  He reached for me, but by then Caela had already launched herself from the amphitheater floor. For as steep as she flew, I wondered how Radulf managed to remain on her back. She made one wide circle not far above the crowd's heads, and then the most amazing thing happened.

  The audience stood, each with an arm crossed against his chest, just as Radulf's arm had been when I came down into the arena. They were giving tribute to their general, honoring his victories for them. Radulf had always been loved here in Rome. I hoped he saw their respect too.

  After they finally flew away, the crowd seated themselves, and Brutus said to me, "You know what must happen, slave boy. Kneel before Caesar, acknowledge your humility before the empire. And accept Caesar's judgment upon you."

  To refer to the emperor as Caesar was a title of respect, one of the highest ways to honor him. I knelt as ordered, but not to accept any judgment. Instead, it put my hand within easy reach of the sword the gladiator had dropped. The weapon looked heavy and would cost me far more strength than an arrow. But I had to use what I was given.

  When I rose again to my feet, the sword came with me.

  "I will accept any judgment that comes to me," I shouted to Brutus. Raising the sword, I added, "But you must accept your judgment too!"

  I raised the sword into the air, aimed toward Brutus. As I'd expected, the cost to my magic was high, but I had enough in the Divine Star to do this and perhaps to defend myself afterward. At least, I hoped I did. Once this sword found its target, the reaction would be swift and fierce.

  If I was wrong, however, and didn't have the magic, then at least I'd fall knowing that Brutus would come to the Elysian Fields with me. Or in his case, he'd go to Tartarus, where evil men were sent deep into the darkest pit guarded by a monster with fifty sharp-toothed jaws. I liked the idea of him spending some time there, though it was hardly fair to the monster to have to deal with a venomous man like Brutus.

  Both my palms were turned to the sky, fingers inward, keeping the sword in place. All it would take was to rotate them toward the emperor's box and the sword would fly at Brutus. My heart pounded with the realization of what I was about to do. If I could do it.

  Threatening the Praetors, or even giving them a few bruises and broken bones, was one thing. They had started this war, and whatever I'd done to them had been meant only to save my life and the lives of those I cared about. I tried telling myself that killing Brutus was no different. He would continue on with this war until either my defeat or my death. If I were to have any chance of one day living a normal life, this was the right thing to do. Maybe it was the only thing to do.