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When We Were Kings (The Wolf of Oberhame Book 1) Page 3


  "Don't fight it," the Lion whispered. "Get it out while you can. Drink more so you can hurl more, and just let it happen."

  Leaning back, she reached for the jug of water, and drank straight from it. Stale and dirty, the taste elicited another round. Then she drank again. This time it stayed for nearly a minute before coming back up. Over and over she repeated the process until her body stopped trying. That's when the tears started.

  Leyli refused to howl like a woman. With her jaw clenched against the anguish, she just let the tears fall. Her hands shook and her nose ran. Eventually she had to sniff. Pain shot through her face and she gasped. From there, the sorrow took control. The life she knew was over! Pulling her knees to her chest, she buried her face in them to muffle the sound, struggling to breathe around her mess of a nose.

  "Hey." The voice was gentle, but she couldn't look up. "Little Wolf, I brought some wine." It was Tinas.

  She nodded, but refused to show her face. "Thank you," she blubbered.

  "It's ok, honey."

  From beside her, the Lion disagreed. "It's not. Leave her alone."

  "Yeah." Tinas sighed. "Dinner's coming soon enough. If she drinks all the wine first, she may not stay conscious long enough to eat."

  "She will," the Lion said. "She'll do what she needs to survive. Stop worrying about her. She's a fighter."

  "No, I'm not," Leyli muttered.

  "Yes," the Lion assured her, "you are. You've already proven it. Your father would be proud."

  She sucked in a breath and looked at the hall. "You know my dad?"

  He chuckled. "No, but I know men. Having a daughter as strong as you would make any father proud, alive or dead."

  Or dead. The words cut deep. She didn't even know if her family was still alive. She didn't know who sat on the throne. "Does anyone follow politics?"

  "No," both men said, but Tinas sounded confused.

  Leyli just nodded before shifting closer to grab the wine. "Then I guess it doesn't matter. What town is this?"

  "Valview." Tinas squatted down to look at her. "You didn't know?"

  "No. Last night I fell asleep in Oberhame. This morning, I woke up here."

  "The Wolf of Oberhame," the Lion said. "Now that is a good name."

  "I'll tell the announcer." Reaching through the bars, Tinas rubbed the edge of her arm before leaving her to suffer through the long night alone.

  Chapter 4

  The wine helped. The food helped more. Leyli was nearly asleep when a glow in the hall woke her. Glancing over her head at the bars, she saw three guards escorting a cloaked woman. Maybe she was the wife of a team owner? Leyli didn't know, so closed her eyes again.

  The lock to the Lion's cell clicked loudly. "We'll be down the hall if you need us, ma'am."

  The woman giggled. "No, I'm sure I won't need you."

  The door creaked as it opened and banged when it closed. No one spoke for a long time, until the light was long gone. Then she heard her neighbor's voice. He sounded bored.

  "You paid my owner for an hour of my time. You've paid me nothing for the lack of sleep."

  The woman's voice was thick. "Make me a happy woman, and the necklace around my throat is yours."

  "That'll do."

  Her response was a feminine gasp. What came after that was hard to block out: the sound of cloth, flesh sliding against flesh, and too much heavy breathing. Leyli felt her face growing warm. She didn't mean to listen, but it wasn't like she had a choice. Instead, she shoved her pillow over her ears, but that only helped so much. The grunts and moans still leaked through.

  The woman had paid for an hour, and the Lion gave her every second of it. When her moans became screams, flashes of dead men's faces danced behind Leyli's eyes. When the Lion groaned in completion, she remembered the last gasp of her opponents. When the guards returned to collect the woman, Leyli ignored it all, fighting back another round of tears. She was a slave, fallen from the highest place possible to the lowest. Not only was she intended to kill for amusement, but they'd also sell her body, and nothing she could do would stop it.

  She tried to sleep, but couldn't. What difference did it make? She'd never come back from this. Her whole life was ruined. She was ruined. Her value to the country had vanished the moment her cousin abducted her. Why was she even trying? At best, she'd be married off to some widower who could spend her money and ignore her. At worst? They knew she was here and hadn't come for her because she was ruined.

  Minutes ticked past. Down here, below the arena, the warriors took what reprieve they could. Snores echoed and water dripped in the distance, but the silence only made it easier to hear her sobs.

  "You're supposed to be sleeping," the Lion whispered.

  "I don't care."

  He paused for a moment, and she heard his bunk creak. "You have to care. You have to keep fighting."

  "Why? So they can sell us like whores?"

  "Yes. It doesn't matter what they do to you, so long as you keep living. Bend, break, but don't ever give up. Then one day, you win and walk out of here a free woman with your life in your control."

  "You don't understand."

  He chuckled. "Trust me, Wolf, I do. Every woman that comes to me adds to my future. Every guard I befriend is one chance to get ahead. When your only other option is death, you do what you have to to survive. You learn to win."

  "And what do we win?"

  His answer was little more than a breath. The sound of it was as cold as winter ice. "Revenge."

  Staring at the dark ceiling, she let it wash over her. If she could live through this, she'd learn to fight. They'd never expect that of her. If they even recognized her by the time she was done, they wouldn't see a woman as a threat. No one would believe the once pampered Princess could live through this. If they killed her family, then the least she could do was kill them back. Maybe they'd ruined her, but she'd survive just to avenge the royal name.

  "I can do that," she finally said. "I can make them all pay for what they've done."

  "Yeah." The Lion took a long breath. "And don't let anything stand in your way. Do whatever you need to in order to get there. You're stronger than all of this. Say it over and over, and eventually you'll believe it."

  "I am the Wolf of Oberhame," Leyli whispered. "I can not be defeated."

  "Exactly."

  Somewhere in the night, she managed to fall asleep. When the sounds of people in the halls woke her, her first thought was pain. Her nose hurt. Her arms burned. Every muscle in her body protested the idea of moving. Men were making their way down the line, pushing trays of food between the bars. Others, dressed more like merchants, walked the aisles, looking into the cells with curiosity. Slowly, the sound of voices grew.

  "Feeling refreshed, Lion?"

  Her neighbor groaned. "Go away, Merino."

  "You always fight better after a good slut."

  "No. I always fight like a beast. I don't need your middle aged widows to keep me awake. What do you want?"

  The man, who must be a team owner, shifted enough so that Leyli could see him. His robe was dark blue, trimmed in silver. He glanced over, and she refused to look away, making it clear she was assessing him. Merino smiled, then turned his attention back to the Lion.

  "You're going tandem today. As the highest scoring gladiator, you pick last. You know what that means, right?"

  "I get the worst partner in the group. Just make sure I have a sharp sword. If the bastard slows me down, I'll cut the chain off his arm."

  "That's my boy," Merino purred. "There will be seven groups, all coming for you. Don't make two-hundred your unlucky number."

  "Not today," the Lion promised.

  Tandem. That meant she'd be assigned a partner. If the Lion got the worst of the group, then that gave Leyli an advantage. She pulled her hair out of the knot, rubbed her hands over it to make it look rough, then shoveled back the food without tasting it. When she heard the guards coming to collect the novice fighters, she took a deep breath
– and probed her nose.

  Pain flared behind her eyes and tears followed. She couldn't hold back the whimper. Oh, it was definitely broken. Sitting on the edge of the cot, she tried to make her ears stop ringing. By the time her own gate opened, her eyes were streaming.

  This time, her jailer wasn't Tinas. A large, dark-skinned man grabbed her arm and hauled her forward. Stumbling along beside him, her vision blurred by tears, Leyli relaxed. She was just a tiny girl, just a debtor who'd gotten lucky the day before. She tripped awkwardly over the rough floor until the man tossed her into a large room. Along the far wall stood a line of merchants. Clustered in the center were the men who'd lived this long, and one broken little girl.

  They all sneered at her. With a whimper, she moved back, clutching her arms over her chest, yanking at what was left of her dress. Battered and bruised, she had to look atrocious, and Leyli was willing to use that. She didn't even try to hide the tears on her face.

  Then the first gladiator came in. Dressed in black leather with silver accents to make his attire ornate, he let his eyes roam the group. The men stood straighter. Leyli stepped back. The fighter glanced at her and sneered before moving on to choose a burly man.

  Another came, and then another after that. Each of them dismissed Leyli without a second glance. In the end, it was just her and a weak young man. This time, the gladiator wore brown and brass. He groaned his frustration at the choices, then stormed toward them.

  She didn't have to fake the fear at his approach. Stumbling back, she nearly tripped and a yelp slipped out. The man looked at her and chuckled. "Looks like the Lion's finally going to have a chain that will slow him down. I'll take the man. His bones are thin enough."

  The pair left, leaving just her and the man in blue. Merino, they'd called him. He said nothing until the door shut, then chuckled, gesturing to the guard to bring in his fighter. When he gestured to Leyli, he was grinning.

  "Look what the cat dragged in."

  The Lion let his eyes roam over her. "Why are you last?"

  Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin. "Because you're the best, and I know how to be a weak little girl. I can't prove to anyone that I'm a good choice, but it's not hard to convince you men that I'm worthless."

  He nodded once. "Sword or shield?"

  She thought about that quickly. She'd heard of this game. They chained the fighters together, giving one a sword, the other a shield. Their only chance at survival was to either be sufficient with what they had, kill their partner, or work together like a unit.

  "The shield, sir."

  He stepped toward her. "I'm no 'sir', little Wolf. You know I could hack off your arm and take the shield?"

  "I do. I also think that I'm short enough to work around you without making problems. I'm quick enough to keep up. I'm certainly smart enough to not disappoint you."

  The Lion turned to his master. "She'll do. Call her the Wolf of Oberhame."

  "If she's alive at the end," Merino teased. "Otherwise, we'll call her dead."

  The Lion looked at her again. "She'll be alive. This one has teeth."

  He gestured to a door on the far wall. Walking beside him, they entered a large room filled with weapons. The Lion looked at her once, then picked up a dagger and grabbed the waist of her dress. When Leyli didn't jerk away, he smiled, then began cutting.

  "Your first impression says a lot, as you've noticed. If you're weak, they will hunt you down. If you're strong, they'll gang up to kill you. I can't be anything but strong, so we need to make you look the same."

  "I can do that."

  His hazel eyes looked up at her. "Can you?"

  "Watch me."

  He went back to cutting. When he was done, her dress had become a tattered shirt and a skirt that barely hung on her hips. He took the length of cloth and wove it into the material as a belt, making sure it would stay. She looked like a barbarian wench, except instead of cheap leather, she wore the remnants of expensive pink chiffon. It was more flesh than she'd ever shown in public, but the Lion's mind wasn't on her body.

  Leyli raked her fingers through her hair then tied it back as well as she could. The Lion looked, then pulled out another scrap of cloth, and knotted it around the mess. Like a dainty ribbon, it only helped keep her mane back. Then he shrugged and gestured to the next door, grabbing a sword as he followed.

  "If you harm a guard, your debt doubles. That means your goal of two hundred and fifty fights becomes five hundred. No one has lived past three hundred."

  "Only one man has ever earned his way out."

  The Lion nodded. "And I'll be the second. If you listen to me, you'll be the third."

  She chuckled and looked up at him. "Still not a man."

  "Today, you might as well be. They won't be nice to you because you aren't, and on the sands, the only thing we have time to see are your vital areas." He gestured to someone at the side. "Manacle on the right hand. Someone get her a round shield?"

  The man was a blacksmith, or what passed for one in a gladiator arena. He looked at her wrist, shook his head, then grabbed a cuff. With a groan, he tossed it away before grabbing another. This one was smaller. Only then did he pin it around her arm and attach a length of chain. The Lion stepped up on the other side, holding his left arm out.

  "Renak, can I have that one?" He pointed at a wider cuff in the pile behind the man. "It fits over the bracers."

  "Yeah. Be safe out there, Lion. Don't let the cunt slow you down."

  "Not gonna happen. Little bitch might even help."

  The pin clicked into place and another man shoved a shield at her. While the Lion guided her forward, she pushed her arm into the braces, looking at the inside. She'd never held a shield before, and it was a lot heavier than she expected. It also felt really solid. Leyli tested the weight, praying she'd be able to lift it fast enough.

  "The grip should be large enough for a man." Reaching over, the Lion tapped it. "Use both hands if you have to. You can hit as well as block with that. Think of it like a really big club."

  She nodded quickly. "Ok. How do I help?"

  "Watch my fucking back. Don't lag behind. When I say move, don't ask questions, just do it."

  "Yes, sir."

  He punched her arm gently. "Stay on my left if you can. Call it if you have to dart around. Do not get me tangled in that chain."

  "So, I block, you kill. You roar, I act like an obedient bitch. Got it."

  He looked at her quickly, grinning. "I think I like you, kid. Try not to die?"

  "Consider it a two hundredth victory present."

  Chapter 5

  A portcullis held them away from the arena sands. Inside the tunnel, it was dark. Side by side, Leyli and the Lion waited. Beyond, men screamed as they died, and the crowd cheered. Leyli felt the fear starting to claim her. When the crowd roared at the victory, she gasped.

  "Scared?" the Lion asked.

  Her head bobbed. "I'm terrified."

  "Good." He turned to face her, grabbing her free wrist. "Use it." Then he pressed her hand beside the leather patch over his heart.

  She felt hammering against his sternum, the tempo nearly the same as her own. "You're scared?"

  He bowed his head. "Terrified. It makes me aware. It clarifies everything. It's also how the body reacts to knowing I may die."

  "But you look so calm."

  "Ever seen a cornered dog? Its tail tucked between its legs, quaking at what comes next? What do they do, girl?"

  "Bite or attack?"

  He nodded. "The most dangerous animal is a scared one. It's fighting for its life, and it will do anything to survive. Do you understand?"

  Swallowing to settle her stomach, she looked up into his eyes. "Yes, sir. Be the Wolf. Kill them before they can kill me." Her hands were already shaking.

  "And make sure they all know you're dangerous." The portcullis started to rise. "Let's go."

  He ducked beneath it, not even waiting for her response. Leyli had to stretch her legs to keep
up, but she did it with her head high. She was a gladiator's partner. No – she was a gladiator. Two days ago, she'd been a princess, but that didn't make her weak. It just meant she was strong in ways none of these men could understand.

  If she could weather court politics and rise above the scandals of nobility, then she could live through this. She was smarter than all the men out here. Victory lay in planning and reaction, and she could think on her feet. All she had to do was let the Lion handle the strength, and she'd be the brains.

  Thankfully, clouds had rolled in. The sky was bright but grey, making it easy for her eyes to adjust. Beside her, the Lion tested his weapon, cutting at the air. Leyli hefted the shield, moving to check the length of her tether. Between her and the Lion were five, maybe six feet of chain. It was enough to let her move and more than enough to get tangled in. Across the arena, the other teams were making their way out.

  Consistently, the veteran gladiator had chosen the sword, except for one pair. Leyli made note of that. It meant the blows would be serious, and the attacks from men skilled in killing. In other words, nothing at all like her fights yesterday.

  While their novice partners looked on in awe, she mimicked the Lion, glaring around her with her chin up. Just like court, it was all about giving the right impression. A calm settled over her as she fell into her old habit of acting like the superior. Just like court, the facade helped to focus her mind and shut out the nerves that would destroy everything.

  "Keep your eyes left," the Lion whispered. "When the gong sounds, we're taking out the men on our right. We will be charged."

  "Ok."

  Then it began. He didn't wait for her; the Lion just ran. Leyli pushed herself as hard as she could to keep up, the chain stretching farther apart between them. That didn't mean she took her eyes off the other men. Across the arena, someone screamed. With a roar, the Lion slammed into the swordsman. In another three steps, Leyli was with him, using the shield as a battering ram. She didn't aim for his partner, she aimed for the Lion's target, hitting him hard in the diaphragm.