LEANORE 21
By Heck



Comments to heck@beadyeye.net

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

LIKE ALL GAMES, there was a period of a few days in the middle when the
excitement lulled. The crowds still came, but not to capacity, and there was
less noise and freneticism. But as the finals drew closer, so the attendances
and excitement grew once more.

Leanore had experienced little trouble with the heats, so far. She had faced
and beaten all comers, and was somewhat relieved to have only had to kill two.
She remained true to her oath that she would only kill when there was no other
choice.

There had been a moment of fear when she had been scratched by the trident of
one of the retiarii, and was thankful when she did not die in horrible
convulsions. The poison had not been on that weapon.

This was the final, the penultimate battle before she, or her next opponent,
would face the formidable Taran Tarah. By elimination, that meant that the
upcoming contestant must be the one with the poisonous weapon. The thought
raised a little flutter of apprehension in her belly, standing in the cool,
dark tunnel behind the heavy portcullis.

Stop that! she scolded herself. Now was not that time to dwell on things like
that. She needed her head to be clear, calm, and focussed, not fretting over
whether or not this battle would be her last. With an effort, she drove the
errant thoughts to the back of her mind, breathing deeply and evenly, centring
herself.

The strident fanfare blasted out across the amphitheatre. She donned her
purple helmet as the gate rumbled up, and stepped onto the arena. The heat,
reflected from the gleaming white sand, was like a physical blow, and beads of
sweat appeared on her body within a few strides.

Way, way across the circus, another figure strode toward her. As they neared
each other, Leanore could see that her opponent was another female, tall, dark
skinned, and clad in a red version of Leanore's own brief armour. Like her,
the woman was armed with gladius and shield, and the visor of the bright red,
plumeless helmet was pulled down to cover her face. She was athletically
muscular and moved like a cat, and there was something familiar about her that
Leanore could not quite put her finger on.

Acting as tradition demanded, the two gladiatrices marched forward until they
faced each other before the Royal Box. Taking the opportunity, Leanore quickly
weighed up the other woman's statistics.

Her body was hard and lean, and while Leanore might have the edge in pure
power, she reckoned her opponent would be fast and agile. The lack of
significant scars indicated that she was a competent fighter, and her arrogant
stance told Leanore she expected to win.

In the melee! That was where she had seen this woman before. A flash of memory
brought to mind the red masked helmet in a cowardly attack from behind that
had been thwarted by another fighter on that first day. That must be it!

She was sure of it.

As one, they turned to face the Emperor, who came to his feet and made a
magnanimous gesture of good luck. The two women raised their swords in salute
and spoke the time-honoured words.

"We offer our lives to the glory of the Empire!"

The tiers were packed with spectators, a palpable sense of raw emotion in the
air. They were ready for this and were on their feet, shouting the name of
their favourite. Leanore was gratified to hear her own name yelled loudly from
countless throats, but almost as many were cheering her contender. For her,
they were calling, "Scarlet! Scarlet!"

Leanore's eyes found Julia Domina in her customary seat, and smiled when she
recognised the slight figure of Claudia at her side. The serving woman had
been granted a great boon, to be allowed to accompany her mistress. Both women
were standing, applauding enthusiastically, Julia having abandoned her usual
meticulously aloof poise.

A barrel-chested man, who served as Master of Ceremonies, mounted the
referee's rostrum to introduce the two warriors to the audience. The acoustics
of the amphitheatre were so good that his strong voice carried to every ear.

"Citizens of the Holy Empire! We come at last to the penultimate peak of the
entire games! Three hundred and twelve men and women came here to compete for
the honour of facing the mighty Taran Tarah! You have marvelled at their
prowess! Your have gasped at their skill! You have watched in amazement as, by
elimination, their numbers were reduced to just two!" He paused for effect,
timing the wait perfectly. "These two! Two dark warriors from the great
Southern Continent! Two magnificent she-devils who have stopped at nothing,
and have been stopped by nothing, in their quest to entertain you! Who among
us has not been struck dumb with awe as we watched them battle?" The roar of
the crowd gave the lie to his statement.

"Citizens! Your Glorious and Majestic Emperor presents, for your delight,
sponsored by the lovely Julia Domina, a gladiatrix without equal! Famed for
her strength, stamina, and skill, please show your appreciation for the
fabulous.Leanore!"

Leanore stood impassively, letting the uproar of adulation wash over her,
although she could not stop the corner of her mouth twitching up at the
acclaim.

"And facing her in this magnificent arena this afternoon", the MC continued.
"Sponsored by the Master Nenentus Anatole Abraxas, that mistress of death and
mystery, the doyen of cruelty, known only to us as.The Scarlet Huntress!"

As the crowd roared their approval, the Scarlet Huntress turned slowly in
place and raised her arms to bask in the applause. Arrogance, Leanore thought,
will be your downfall.

Another fanfare sounded. The gladiatrices faced each other and raised their
blades in mutual salute.

There! Around the edge of her opponent's blade, Leanore spotted a thin film of
a black, tarry substance, so slight as to be unnoticeable by cursory
inspection. But, because of the way the light caught the bronze, Leanore
managed a quick glimpse before the weapon was lowered.

She hardly had time to register the fact before the Scarlet Huntress attacked.
With a high ululating cry, the woman rushed at her, swinging wildly. Leanore
sidestepped, and managed a swift kick at the Huntress's rear as she passed.

From the outset, the Huntress's tactics were obvious. After all, all she had
to do was break Leanore's skin with the toxic blade, and it would all be over.
She did not even make a pretence of making it look good.

Leanore's response was equally obvious. She had to neutralise that weapon. She
feinted left as the other came in again, slashing her sword down at the
exposed wrist. A red shield met her blow, and her opponent spun away.

The difference in styles was marked. Leanore, while quick and flexible for
such a heavily muscled woman, relied largely on her strength to block any
attack. The Scarlet Huntress, on the other hand, used her speed and agility to
great effect. She rushed again. Leanore waited until she was almost on top of
her and went down on her back, seeming to succumb to the charge. But she
planted her foot in the other's midriff and tossed her high, giving a powerful
thrust that sent the attacker sailing in a high arc to crash to the ground.

Leanore had hoped that the woman would land flat on her back, winding herself,
but the woman had great acrobatic skills. She tucked and rolled into a
somersault and flickered to her feet, spinning to meet Leanore's own charge
with a roundhouse kick to the head.

Momentarily dazed, Leanore lost sight of her opponent for a second, and the
Scarlet Huntress attacked from behind. Fortunately, she had not bothered to
curb her warbling warcry before an attack, and Leanore heard her coming. She
dropped to one knee and raised her shield over her head. The bronze sword
clattered against it, slithering off to one side. Leanore dropped to her hands
and mule-kicked out behind. Her feet connected with the Huntress's jaw and the
woman's body described a perfect arc through the air.

Acrobatic skill came into play again. The Huntress turned the fall into a
dramatic backflip and came to her feet. The two women clashed together, sword
to shield, faces inches apart.

The Scarlet Huntress was exceptionally strong, and would normally have
expected to prevail in a pushing contest such as this. But Leanore was even
stronger. Much stronger, in fact, and the woman felt herself being shoved
inevitably back, back toward the plinth on which the statue of the god stood.

She could not dare to allow herself to be trapped between Leanore and the
stone slab. Not when the larger woman was displaying such overwhelming
superior strength. She let her knees buckle beneath her and dropped to the
sand, driving her sword up toward Leanore's crotch.

Desperately, Leanore twisted away. She brought her small round shield around
in a backhanded swipe that knocked her opponent over and nearly dislodged the
vivid red helmet. The Huntress scrabbled to save it, and Leanore briefly
wondered why it was so important.

The Scarlet Huntress rolled away across the sand and sprang to her feet, ready
to engage once more.

All afternoon the two battled. First, Leanore's pure muscle power would give
her the upper hand, the Scarlet Huntress's speed and agility would counter,
and so it went. To and fro across the vast arena they fought, way past the
time when two lesser competitors would have collapsed from sheer exhaustion,
until the sun was quite low in the sky.

The crowd loved it. They yelled themselves hoarse, cheering for first one,
then the other, their fickle loyalties fluctuating according to who had the
advantage at any given time.

The women were both drenched in sweat and panting hard. It had grown cooler as
the afternoon progressed, and it was less uncomfortable in the sun, but it was
still damnably hot. They traded blows toe-to-toe, swords clanging against
shields with rhythmic force. Leanore had long since lost her helmet, and her
radiant beauty was marred by dust and perspiration, distorted by furrows of
concentration. A livid bruise was swelling on her cheek, where the Huntress's
shield had struck, and her back and knees were grazed from repeated contact
with the ground.

The Scarlet Huntress had managed, somehow, to hang on to her helmet. A line of
blood showed on her belly where Leanore's razor sharp blade had touched, and
her shoulders were bruised from punishing blows. The edges of her shield were
frayed and her bronze blade deeply notched, the work of Leanore's forged
steel.

The red helmet ducked under Leanore's sword as it flashed in a sweeping arc.
She struck upwards, driving for the bigger woman's belly, but Leanore saw her
coming. The hard disc of her shield slammed down on the Huntress's wrist, and
the sword tumbled from numbed fingers. Leanore twisted around, backing into
the woman, and thrust out hard with her buttocks. She raised her sword high
and brought it down across the discarded blade. The steel smashed against the
softer bronze, and the lesser blade shattered under the impact, little shards
of bronze flying everywhere.

Leanore thought she had made a big mistake and flinched, expecting one of the
poison-coated splinters to pierce her flesh. By a miracle, that did not
happen. She turned with sword high, the Scarlet Huntress on her knees and at
her mercy.

The crowd went mad. They stamped their feet and clapped their hands, cheering
wildly and chanting, "Kill! Kill!"

But Leanore was cursed with a strong sense of honour and fair play. Holding
her sword on the other woman, she gestured that she should stand. Then she
drove her at swordpoint well away from the scattered shards.

If the Scarlet Huntress had no weapon, neither would Leanore. Such was her
logic. She drew back her arm and hurled her sword from her. Propelled by the
stupendous strength of her arm, it flashed away, coptering through the air to
land over a hundred yards away. Her shield followed suit, and Leanore faced
her opponent unarmed.

The Scarlet Huntress had no such compunctions. Retaining her shield, she leapt
to close with Leanore, twisting the hard edge into Leanore's stomach.

A blow to the gut would normally have little effect on Leanore's ironclad
abdominal muscles. But her steel sword had gouged chips out of the edge of the
Huntress's shield and the sharp, broken rim bit deep into her flesh. She
reeled away, clutching at her belly.

Julia Domina's hands flew to her mouth in fright and concern.

"Oh, gods! Oh, gods!"

At her side, Claudia began to weep as she saw the bright red blood begin to
well from Leanore's belly.

The Scarlet Huntress was quick to press her advantage. She smashed her shield
against Leanore's head, driving her to her knees, and raised it for another
blow.

A muscular hand reached out and grabbed the edge of the shield. The metal cut
into her palm, but Leanore ignored the pain as her fingers closed on the disc.
So tightly did she grip that the bronze actually indented in four places, and
she ripped it from the other woman's grasp.

Revealing a twisted, claw-like hand in a black leather glove.

Leanore could only stare, amazed. When she spoke, there was incredulity in her
voice.

"Lexis?"

Her identity exposed, the Scarlet Huntress no longer need to hide behind the
red mask. She tore it from her head, revealing her cruelly beautiful face.
Madness flashed in her eyes as she spat at Leanore.

"Yes! Lexis!" She pointed at the free-flowing blood on Leanore's belly and
thighs. "And it's long past your time to die!"

She surged forward, swinging a long leg at Leanore's head. Leanore blocked her
kick with a forearm and grabbed the ankle.

"Don't count on it!"

Her thighs powered upward and she hoisted Lexis's leg high, flipping her right
over. The woman spun in air, landing flat on her belly. She came upright
quickly, the sand sticking to her sweat, yelling as she rushed Leanore with
flailing arms.

One of Leanore's hands was clutched to her belly, holding together the ripped
flesh. She drove her other fist out like a ram, meeting Lexis right between
the breasts. There was a crack as her sternum split, sending a hot knife of
pain through her chest. The woman staggered, and Leanore slammed a foot into
her belly, doubling her over. She grabbed Lexis by the nape of her neck,
tossing her forward, pitching her like a horseshoe.

Leanore sucked in her breath between her teeth, fighting to control the pain
in her belly. She reeled forward, and only her colossal strength and rigid
determination kept her on her feet.

Lexis moaned and tried to get up, gasping as she found herself being dragged
backward by one leg. Leanore had taken hold of an ankle and began to turn,
heaving the woman one-handed in a circle. Rotating faster and faster, she spun
like a hammer thrower, hoisting her victim from the ground. Round and round,
higher and higher, still clutching her injured belly with her free hand, until
she achieved maximum momentum.

Leanore let go.

Arms and legs flailing, wailing in terror, Lexis flew through the air. As one
man, the crowd rose to its feet and watched her flight, heads turning in
unison as they followed her trajectory. Time seemed to slow as she covered a
score of feet in a second or two.

Collectively, the audience winced as Lexis's head struck the corner of the
plinth under the bronze feet of the god. With a sickening crunch that was
audible all over the circus, her skull was all but split in two by the impact,
and her lifeless body flopped to the sand. A spreading pool of red mixed with
gobbets of grey surrounded her ruined head and ran into her sightless eyes.

A short hush fell on the crowd. Then they were stamping, cheering, and yelling
Leanore's name over and over. This was entertainment!

All lost on Leanore. As she sank slowly to her knees, her blurring vision made
out a flame-haired figure sprinting across the sand toward her.

And the last thing she heard was the yelling voice of Julia Domina.

"Medic! Medic!"