Slave Unbound Ch. 18

Chapter 18

Vengeful Acts

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Disclaimer: This story is not meant as 'erotica', but dark adventure-fantasy. It may contain material that sensitive readers might find uncomfortable. Please be advised.

As she stepped from the Ansgorii gate, Leita saw the young woman she had been ordered to kill standing at the opposite end of the arena floor, spear in hand and clad in a ragged dress of course burlap. The lot watched her warily as she walked calmly along, absently listening to the cheers of the crowds. Heaving a deep sigh, she stopped and turned to face the symbol of Caruenos upon the arena wall and made her salute to the battle god.

In her mind, she was still turning over her Mistress's words, considering them from all angles. She could find some degree of logic in the words, knew them to be true, however bitter of truth it may be. If this woman had no talent for battle, she would certainly never receive any sort of bid at auction. She remembered her own auction, the horrified looks on the faces of the lots who had received no interest as they were dragged back to their barren cages to spend another week of near starvation.

They had also been among the most wounded and worn, broken by fear and pain. They'd likely not been bid upon because of their lack of potential, unlikely to grow stronger staying half-starved and poorly kept. Eventually, they would be killed by a gladiator who lacked mercy, likely prolonging the agony to best feed the crowd's bloodlusts. In such cases, a quick death would be a mercy.

And yet, while Leita was prepared to take the life of an opponent, the idea of killing someone without the ability to defend their own life felt wrong. She'd felt no regrets in killing Maslo, knowing he could have, and would have, killed her. However, she wasn't sure she'd feel the same just cutting down a harmless foe.

Turning to regard the woman across from her, spear up and ready, Leita weighed all her options. Perhaps she could draw some kind of fight out of the girl, help her to at least make enough of a show to earn some kind of interest at auction. If this girl was too frightened and broken to even attempt any show of force, however, she would not only have directly disobeyed her Mistress, but put herself in a position to look like a callus butcher.

Only, as Leita approached, she couldn't see any real fear in the woman's eyes. Her body language suggested apprehension and fear, closed and defensive in posture, but something about that too seemed wrong. Despite how she was positioned, her hands were steady on the shaft of the spear, the grip firm, but not tight. Her feet were set to maximize balance and prepare for movement.

And her eyes, dark and steely, focused not on Leita's weapon or her face, places that someone frightened would look, either afraid of the former or looking for compassion in the later. Where her gaze fell was Leita's torso. Even more, those eyes were firm and unwavering, steady as stone.

Her instincts faster than her conscious mind, she was already in motion before the full implication of her observations had come together for her. Moving forward in a rush, sword rising, Leita cut to a pivot a moment before the woman's expert thrust came. Dipping down and twisting her body, the woman put the spear right where Leita would have been, had she not known to feint to a dodge.

Even so, the woman reacted so quickly and cleanly, corkscrewing her whole body to spin the spear's shaft about, bringing the butt of the weapon to bear, that she managed to catch Leita across the left thigh. Even with the boiled leather there, the impact was hard enough to loosen her stance. To avoid a stumble, Leita let herself drop to that knee, bringing her shield up. That choice saved her from a far worse follow-up, the woman letting her own momentum carry and the spear into line for another hard thrust.

The spearhead collided into the shield at dead center, retracted lightning fast, and bore down again, this time at a different angle of attack. Leita managed to tilt her shield and lean away from the strike, letting the force of the thrust help her deflect it aside. Again, the woman utilized her own momentum to power a spin of the weapon to bring the butt around. This time, Leita was prepared enough to duck under the follow-up, letting her already kneeling body roll forward and past the woman.

When she got back on her feet, she found the woman turned towards her and no longer even pretending to be afraid. She had a grim expression, cold as ice, her body poised like a snake, the spear as her fangs. This was no discarded pleasure slave. Leita couldn't understand what was happening, why this woman was so different from what she'd been told to expect, but the revelation brought a smirk to her lips.

"Thank you, gods." She muttered, realizing that any conflict she may have had about facing this opponent had just become moot. This was definitely someone who could fight and fight well.

The woman came in quick, working the spear with a series of swift jabs, using the weapon's length to her advantage to keep Leita both on the defense and outside sword's reach. Each thrust had economy of action, precision in its attack, making up for the lower force of such reaching attacks. Leita was forced to fall back, away from the assault, unable to maneuver her shield fast enough to block the whole barrage. Her foe pressed this advantage, moving forward with Leita's backpedal, circling as she came to steer Leita where she wanted her to go.

Leita realized that she would quickly find her back to a wall, pinned in place by an opponent who not only had far better range of attack, but seemed well trained in keeping that advantage. She handled the spear with such intimate grace, that it was like an extension of her own body. She moved with the same agility and speed that Sasinel did, always aware of exactly where she was and how her body was moving.

The moment Leita found herself without room to evade, depending on only her shield for her defense, she knew she would quickly begin taking hits. Every hit would diminish her ability to get any kind of upper hand back. Unable to reach her opponent, but easily able to be reached by them, she would find herself in a spiral of death. And Leita held no illusions that this woman would not stop until she'd died.

Technically, Leita could simply concede defeat, declare the woman her better and the fight would end. HouseMistress Marlowe would be disappointed, likely punish her for not only losing, but surrendering. However, she would also survive to face that punishment. What it might cost in pride seemed small, considering the woman's skill.

Before she could be driven to a wall, put at the woman's mercy, Leita leapt backwards, dislodging the shield from her arm and slinging it away. A smile of triumph came to the woman's face, but her eyes narrowed, determination filling her features. Obviously, she didn't want to win by having Leita surrender to her. She wanted to draw blood.

And had Leita intended to surrender, perhaps she might have. Leita had tossed her shield away not in preparation to concede, but to free up that hand and remove the option of letting herself get pinned. Leita worked best when she was at a disadvantage. Leita was at her most dangerous when she was in the most danger.

As her opponent launched towards her, she surged forward herself, forcing the woman to stop short and initiate her attack before she was fully prepared to. In turn, that haste to attack reduced her speed and precision with the weapon, giving Leita a better chance to predict its path. Switching her sword to her other hand, she deftly dodged around the first oncoming thrust, putting the spear to her left side. She brought the sword outwards, letting blade collide with shaft.

The weapon was pushed to the side, out of balance in the woman's grip. In the brief opening she had before the woman could recover, Leita's now free right hand drew the dagger on her thigh and stabbed in at the woman. The woman expertly rolled her body, letting go of the spear with one hand. Her move showed that she assumed the stab to be going for her torso or head, but Leita had already expected her opponent to be good enough to evade such an attack. She had also expected that the woman would not be willing to let go of the spear with both hands.

Leita's dagger drove deep into her foe's right forearm. The woman managed to keep her grip on the spear, but she screamed in pain as Leita tore the dirk out of her arm, ripping a long split of flesh, and spun away. The woman was quick to recover, but Leita knew the brutal wound would steal a lot of power and control from the weapon. She would still be dangerous, but now the odds would be more level now.

"You're better than I was expecting." The woman said to her, eyes sharp as razors.

Leita gave a slight nod. "I could say the same." As the two of them circled one another, she decided to press this moment of parlay. "You were not someone's pleasure slave, were you?"

The woman smirked truculently. "My, aren't you clever? I was hired to kill you, my little bird."

Leita boggled in surprise. She'd been hired? "You're an assassin?"

"Apparently, there are people who not happy that you are thriving, little bird." The woman said, by way of answer. "They want that to end."

Leita's thoughts went to the one person who she knew would want to see her suffer and die. The same woman who had condemned her by turning her into a lot. In that same instant, her mind snagged on further revelations. Every time she'd stepped into the arena, her foe had been specifically trying to kill her. This assassin, Delso managing to get spellcasting needs, and even Maslo had seemed particularly focused on her suffering. She could now see the Baroness's hand behind all of these things.

All just to punish her for obeying.

In that moment, something gave way inside Leita. A fiery fury she'd never felt before flooded through her. In the next instant, she was in motion, closing the brief distance between them, working her sword and dagger in unison. The professionally trained assassin reacted equally as fast, using her spear to deflect the sword's swing effortlessly, while also dodging aside of the dagger's jab.

Leita used the force of the parry to propel her backspin of the blade, but was immediately blocked again by the spear, keeping her out of reach with the dagger. However, Leita didn't try to reach the woman with her dagger, but brought it up behind the blocking shaft of the spear and tilted both blades inward.

As the woman retracted the spear, Leita drew her weapons along the length of it and hooked them behind the spear's head. She gave a sharp tug, pulling the assassin off balance for a moment, causing her to stagger forward. Leita let her whole body continue the motion of her tug, allowing the dagger to slip free of its seat under the spearhead so she could unfold her body. Though her arm's reach would have fallen just short of getting the short weapon to a target, her leg was more than long enough and snapped out, kicking the assassin across the leading knee.

The assassin sacrificed her hold of the spear, rolling into a fall to evade Leita's follow up attack with the sword. In the next instant, she stopped her tumble and leapt back at Leita, catching the gladiator off-footed. She got one hand around the guard of Leita's broadsword and brought the other, formed into a tight fist, into Leita's exposed face.

Unprepared for the hit, Leita lost her grip of the sword, which the assassin cleanly kept hold of, and staggered back. Before she could fully recover, the assassin made her own kick, putting it full into the center of Leita's sternum and taking her off her feet to crash backwards in the sand. Her dagger flew from her hand on impact, disappearing into the disturbed sand.

Leita cleared her senses just in time to roll away from the assassin's downwards chop with the sword. Now completely disarmed, Leita struggled to get back to her feet before the woman could bring the sword down again. However, the assassin was too fast and managed to get into position for another chop before Leita could get more than one foot planted. Instinctively, she brought up an arm to try and fend off the blade, managing to at least position her left vambrace to try and blunt the hit.

The plate managed to take much of the swing's force, but the thin, low-quality armor rent enough for the edge reach flesh. Taking full advantage, the assassin drew the blade downwards, slicing along Leita's forearm. The slash cut off the damaged arm plate and opened the sleeve of her leather armor. The skin of her forearm was unzipped almost from wrist to elbow, extremely painful, but thankfully shallow.

"That's for stabbing me, cunt." The woman seethed at her in triumph.

Leita screamed through gritted teeth against the pain of the wound, but let it fuel her resolve. She forced herself backwards to put some distance between them and bounced back up to her feet. She continued to backpedal, adding more distance. While her kick had given the woman a slight limp, the leg was still strong and firm. She seemed more than capable of moving up at speed. However, as with her injured arm, she would not have as much control as before.

Banishing the fury from her emotions, fighting to regain full control, Leita made herself start thinking again. The rage was getting in her way and costing her. She scanned quickly for what she needed, spotting the glint of her dagger behind where the woman was. She'd need to retrieve it and then make enough distance.

She feinted movement to the right, forcing the woman to have to lead with her injured leg to follow. The discomfort of that step for the assassin gave Leita the chance to cut back the other direction and dive past the woman. As she went past, the assassin managed a fast backswing, but her injured arm managed to cause the weapon to hit along the blade's side, instead of the edge.

The hit still hurt, carrying enough force to crack one of Leita's ribs as it bashed her in the side. The hit knocked her partially off course, but she was able to recover faster than the woman, making another leap towards her goal. She tumbled forward, rolling over the dagger and retrieving it, before rolling up to her feet.

The assassin was barreling straight at her, the injured knee adding a slight hiccup to her stride. Already almost on top of Leita, the gladiator had only enough time to throw herself forward into another tumble. This time, however, instead of trying to dive past her opponent, she bowled her body right into the woman's legs, sending her face down into the sand. However, the impact was also too much for Leita, further battering her injured ribcage to utilize her foe's prone position to any advantage, so she simply put her feet under her and tried to get in position, with enough distance between her and the assassin.

She managed to reach just the right spot by the time the woman had bounded back to her feet and turned to face Leita. She managed to get almost three steps forward before Leita threw the dagger at her. With the wounds in that forearm and her side, the throw wasn't the best she could have mustered and the assassin easily swatted the blade out of the air with a broad slash of the sword.

However, in doing so, she left herself open for the unexpected second projectile. For, at almost the same instant that the knife was leaving Leita's left hand, she was kicking the spear, laying at her feet, up into her uninjured right hand. She threw a heart's beat behind the dagger. The projectile caught the assassin hard in the upper torso, sending her stumbling backwards. Leita was to her before she could recover or counter with the sword.

Grabbing the spear's haft, she ripped it free and immediately stabbed it back into the woman, this time impaling it through the woman's right thigh. The assassin screamed in pain, her grip of the sword loosening enough for Leita to pull it from her hand and bring it to bare. For a split second, she reared to make a killing stroke, but turned the blade at the last moment.

The side of the sword collided into the side of the woman's head with enough force to knock her off her feet and out of her senses. As she unsteadily tried to rise back up, too dazed to even defend herself, Leita planted a final kick to the assassin's face, splattering her nose and rendering her completely unconscious.

Taking a couple fatigued steps backwards, Leita turned and raised the sword over her head, saluting the crowds. The trumpet of cheers was deafening. She drank in the roaring sound, turning about with her arms raised in victory. After a moment, she faced the symbol of Ceruenos and brought the pummel of her downturned weapon to her forehead.

She'd previously given a salute to the battlegod simply as a show of respect, but now she gave him an honest prayer. Praying not just in thanks for coming through this battle, but pledging to never back down from whatever the Baroness, or anyone else, tried to levy against her. For her service, she asked for only one boon.

That she might one day stand again before the Baroness, unchained.

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Up in the private box for House Firebridge, Sabrina found herself smiling, despite once again seeing the girl come away victorious and far from truly suffering. She considered that she might could claim that Leita had not killed the woman as she'd instructed, earning her some kind of punishment, but she realized that leaving the assassin alive was rather poetic. In fact, she felt certain that Leita had known, by the end, that the woman was a professional and stayed her hand simply because she knew it would be worse for the assassin to be left alive. Probably had no idea just how bad, in fact.

Cornelius had likely agreed to have her replaced with some other slave, possibly even the real Maria, once she'd completed her job, but losing meant he would simply leave the woman in bondage to be sold at auction. She would certainly find a home in someone's stable, obviously skilled, despite the loss. If she knew the Master of House Victorious though, it would be Cornelius who bought her. Woe to her when that happened, as it would certainly not be to grant her freedom again.

Sabrina decided that she was going to give this girl her dues on this. Better to build more trust, for now, that could be exploited later. Leita was proving, over and over, to be a far more capable person than anyone, including herself, could imagine. She needed to be handled carefully. Not to mention, this had been an attack not just on her, but Sabrina's own House.

Despite being the instigator of that attack, Cornelius remained very poised and untroubled by this defeat, even managing to act congratulatory. "I believe I am starting to understand why you paid so much for her, Sabrina." He said charmingly, as though he were not at all disappointed at the assassin's failure. "I applaud your girl's victory."

"I would think you would be upset, Cornelius, considering that the whole point was kill one of my gladiators." Sabrina replied, her tone light, as if they were simply bantering about quaint jokes rather than discussing his unveiled treachery.

He gave a shrug, grinning smugly. "Well, the good part of my little ploy was that I manage to win regardless of outcome. You see, with your slave's win, now I don't have to pay her." He gave a little chuckle and rose, motioning for the real Maria to do the same. "And, if the assassin had won, I bet just enough, with her strong odds against, that it would help cover her fee and the cost of having to buy her back out of the arena at the Lot auction. What I lost on that bet is still less than what I would have had to pay to fulfill my end of the contract."