Anzil (Gladiators of Krix #2) - Miranda Martin Page 0,3
says softly. “It doesn’t change anything, though.”
“Then how do I get them back?” I plead.
He scratches the back of his head then sighs. “The games. Dominus wants his prizes back. The best way to get them back is to have them placed as a bet on the games.”
“You’re kidding me,” I say.
“I am not,” he says.
“How do I go about that? How bad is it there?”
“Curtius is a House Majore; they will treat most of their slaves well,” he says. “It is doubtful they are in any danger. Humans have become popular on Krix, Widows’ only know why.”
Good to know. I file that information away for later.
“How do we get them used as a bet then?” That’s the million-dollar question. I tried to go rescue them already, but that went bad. I was captured myself before I even got close to where they’ve been sold.
“You don’t,” he says.
“But you sai—”
He raises a hand and cuts me off. “I know what I said. I will handle it. You train.”
“Train? I’m off the shit detail?”
“You are for now,” he says. “Ductores wants you to be in the upcoming games.”
“Right,” I agree.
I don’t plan on being here long enough to be in any games. This place sucks, and I’ve got to free my people. Ductores points towards the training grounds. I step onto the sands and can’t help but take a good look at Anzil.
He’s sparring with Xyron, Cora’s mate. I never would have guessed her to be one to go native, but I don’t blame her. Watching Anzil move, the way his muscles ripple, the skill with which he wields his weapon, it’s impressive.
I like his attitude too, though I’m not about to tell him that. He’s tough, brash, and bold, but there’s a soft core beneath all that alpha male bravado. He’s exotic and sexy. I like it. Big, which is good. His skin is a soft red, a softer shade than Xyron, and their faces are completely different. Which makes sense, as they’re apparently not the same race.
Even his sea green hair is sexy. Who knew?
I look around for someone to spar with, but they’re all paired up. I grab a wooden sword and practice on the wooden pole. Sword fighting is about stance. You have to have your body in the right position for each attack or each defense. If you do, they flow from one to the next. If you don’t, then you lose.
Spthifius walks past to the water barrel. Mostly I ignore him, but I’m aware he’s there and that he’s watching me. After he drinks his fill, he approaches.
“Spar?” he asks.
“Sure,” I agree.
I’m more confident now than I was. My time on shit shoveling detail has really helped develop the muscles for the sword. Now to put it all to the test.
We step out into an open section of the training grounds and square off. We start slow, which is fine by me. We work on stances and moving in and out of attacks.
“How did you get out?” he asks.
“I was kidnapped,” I lie.
He snorts, which is made more impressive because of the large tusks protruding from the corners of his mouth.
“You can trust me,” he says.
“Trust you?” It’s my turn to snort.
He growls and swings faster. I duck under his large sword and step inside, slapping the dull edge of my blade into his ribs. He yelps and dances to the side.
“Trust,” he says. “I want to be free too.”
“Sure you do,” I say. “What are you going to give me to prove I can trust you?”
He tilts his head to one side while continuing to move through the motions of attack and retreat. His beady black eyes study my face for a long time.
“I know a way to contact the free movement,” he whispers after closing in for an attack.
He backs away, and I study his face for any hints of deception. The free movement is a rumor at best. Cora told me about it. A full on slaves rebellion, which sounds great, but I don’t see any free movement happening around here.
“So?” I ask.
His eyes dart to Ductores, who paces and watches the sparring. He closes again, our wooden swords clacking together, throwing himself into me with enough force I have to dig my rear foot into the sand to keep from getting knocked on my ass.
“You want freedom,” he says. “I do too.”
“Tell me what you know,” I say.
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
He grins. “No trust.”
He raises his sword back and