Sunday, January 25, 2015

#SaturdayScenes #KillMatch

Good evening all! 
(I should really be saying good morning with the time...)

I know I am exactly one hour and forty-four minutes late on my Saturday Scene but, it is better late than never. I'm exhausted and honestly my brains a little mushy right now for a long blog post. Instead, here is my scene from my new WIP Kill Match: A Gladiatrix Story. It is rough and unedited, my apologies in advance.

*
I kept my face as steady as I could, but they both saw the shock before I could mask it.
“Well, thank you for that Alexander. I’m glad we got that out of the way and after the training fight. Same time tomorrow then?” He turned to me and I realized he was waiting for a response.
“No, tomorrow is my dusk practice. I am going home tonight.” I tried to sound professional but still stern enough that they would see I didn’t want to change my already set schedule. He simply nodded.
“Fine. We will practice at dusk, then you and I shall have dinner. I want to hear about the tactics you’ve already learned and where you think your weak points are.”
Before I could respond again he swept out of the room, his pants billowing as he walked,, quickly acknowledging Alexander on his way. I watched him go, and realized what I had missed when he had entered. His gait was one of power and pride. Only the Etruscan’s son could walk like that in Kardia. No one else had known such privilege.
“I see your mind, Ferus. He is not who you think him to be. I would at least give him a few days’ time before you completely disregard his humanity.”
A smirk lit my face at the sound of my nickname. As a child I had been ruthless against my Lanista and because of the promise I held in the arena he had let me get away with having a bigger personality than most Gladiators. I was also the first female he had ever had to deal with and as one of his many coping mechanisms he took to call me the loving nickname of Ferus. It meant untamed.  I rolled my neck to each side, buying time for my response.

“I care not for who he is and is not. The Etruscan’s son can be whomever he pleases and as such it is not my place to mind his chosen path. Besides, by the time he is fully trained I will be back in the Dust Bowl where I belong. Thank you for staying around long enough for that.”

He scoffed.

“Do not take me so lightly, warrior. I did not have a say in what is taking place. It was  aggressively suggested to me.” He moved to slide past me, his robe brushing my feet before he abruptly stopped. “Perhaps when my retirement comes I will join you in the Dust Bowl. For if the greatest fighter I have ever known belongs in such a place, surely I would find my presence there just as comfortable.”

He walked out, not even turning to see my mouth gaping open. The image of my Lanista amongst my family would be funny if it weren’t such a terrifying thought. For anyone who wasn’t used to the power he exuded they would be wary and frightened in his presence. Alexander couldn’t possibly think he truly belonged in the outer villages. With everything that had happened I couldn’t think about if he was being serious or not. I needed to get out of these walls leaving behind my Lanista and his overly eager replacement.

I cleaned up any pieces of wrap that had fallen to the floor during the fight then headed out toward my room on the third floor. With each cold stone step to the top I could feel the scratches that laced my feet. The feet had been tempered, and basically no damage had been done to either of us. But that didn’t take away from the pain that laced from skin hitting skin at half force. It still hurt like Hell, practice fighting or no. I walked into my room to catch three maids tidying up the space. My nursemaid, Gemma, was among them preparing a bag for my night back home.
“Did you put together another from the kitchen?”

She sighed at my voice, not having realized I was behind her.

“Yes. Just like every time before. You think I am incapable of taking care of you when I have done it your whole life.”

She hadn’t taken care of me my whole life, just the last twelve years. Instead of pointing out that fact, again, I changed the subject.

“Did you know that the Price was taking over for Alexander?”

Her tired hands stopped, the shaking in them minute, before they rushed on putting a jacket in the bag.

“Gemma! You knew. You terrible, retched liar! You knew this whole time and kept it from me? I thought we were family.”

That always got to her. She was my family but ever since being a child I had outwardly rejected the notion and it always bothered here. I had wanted someone to feel the pain I did and Gemma had been the unfortunate target of my overly dramatic emotions growing up. A frown deepened into the lines of her face and her hands flew to her hips.

“No, don’t you dare start with all of that again. You are far too old to be messing with an aging woman’s feelings. You know that you’re a daughter to me, but Nero is like my son.”

I gasped knowing I didn’t need to be stoic or closed in with Gemma.

“Don’t you look like that. It isn’t a secret that I’ve raised you both. If you wouldn’t be so self centered you could have found out sooner. Nero has lived on the second floor of this sanctuary since you came here and shortly after his mother died. Alexander wanted to keep the two of you separate. Nero was told the rules to avoid you when he begged to live here and as it seems he’s been doing a lovely job of it. But I guess the cats out of the bag now.” A smirk lit her face.

“You think this is funny? That a ruthless King’s only son is now in charge of over a dozen of the best fighters in Kardia? I’m sorry but I can’t seem to find the humor in my situation.”

I grabbed my boots from the underside of the bed, roughly putting them onto my feet, my sore skin screaming at me in horror. The smile disappeared from Gemma.

“Well, that answers the question of if you’ve even talked to him. He’s not his father Libby. And it would do you good in life to learn not to always read the book by the cover. Nero is not his father.”

I snorted. She knew I hated the reading references and used them whenever she was irritated with my behavior. I grabbed the bag from the bed and walked towards the door.

“You of all people should know that the picture is the only thing I can read.”


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