Vows In Blood

Acraesius pulled up a chair and sat down in front of the chained figure kneeling before him.

Confident that his legionnaires were able to protect him, considering that it was they who brought the fugitive Angronius to heel, relished the opportunity to meet the escaped gladiator face to face. Although wounded from the skirmish earlier, the man was not by any means diminished. His eyes were still alight with a defiant blaze, and already his most grievous injuries started to close up just hours following his brutal contest with the Proconsul's men.

The legionnaires shackled him with all manner of different chains, ranging from the standard star-metal shackles to the more expensive exotic metals found in some far off part of the republic. The gladiator's demigodlike strength was unlike anything they've encountered before, and even with all measures taken to prevent his escape, they feared him.

"Angronius Thal'kyr."

"Do not call me that!" Angronius spat.

Acraesius smiled, noting the fugitive's hatred for the house of Marcellus. To show contempt for one's master wasn't new in the republic, but it came as a surprise for Acraesius as he thought that Angronius found contentment in the life of a gladiator. "Is that not the name of your master's house?"

"His name, not mine."

"I see." The Proconsul leaned back on his chair, "I must say, I'm impressed by the strength of your defiance at the wharves this night. You've killed...hmm...how many did he kill again?"

The lieutenant stepped up to answer, "Close to about ninety, sir! Safe to assume it may be more, once we've combed through the carnage and made a right tally."

"A hundred then..." Acraesius' smile grew into a grin, "One man against a hundred of the 1st Legion's finest. If I were anyone else, I'd have your head for this particular brand of violence. A slave laying hands against the soldiers of the republic, to add to the list of crimes you already have committed in your escape, you deserve nothing but death."

"And what's stopping you?" Angronius, refusing to remain on his knees before the Nucerian general, fought against the pain and rose up to stand tall. "Give me liberty, or give me death."

"Well... see here, I can't just do that. It would look bad for me, especially since you're not my property." Acraesius paused, feeling his thoughts wander off to the maiden he abandoned in favor of his bargaining chip. "No, I won't have you killed nor would I allow your master to kill you. There's a place for everyone in the republic, even for an errant slave like you."

"If you are planning on returning me to the arena, you will find only disappointment." Angronius declared, "My days of spilling blood for your amusement are over."

"This might come as a surprise for you, but you're not the first slave to tell me that..." The Proconsul replied as he rose up from his chair, "...nor will you be the last. In the end, we all serve Nuceria. All of us."

He ordered the legionnaires to place Angronius in the special kennels beneath the Palace Amphitiria, a place where only the mighty exotic beasts of the coast were kept. Before he was locked into his cell, Acraesius' personal medicus fitted the slave with an inhibitor device- the same device used on the warriors of Stygia when they faced him in the Colosseum Primus.

Finally, Angronius was branded on his back the word fugitivus.

With the sordid business done, the Proconsul retired for the night, but not before ordering some of his personal guard to keep watch over the kennels lest the gladiator find some other means to escape.

Day in and day out, he remained there in his cell. Acraesius took his time arranging his transportation back to House Thal'kyr, for the Proconsul had ulterior motives regarding the return of Lord Marcellus' prized fighter. He wished to use him to smoothen the process of gaining Marcellus' favor, that he might count on the lanista when he needed his aid.

Marcellus held considerable sway over the senate, although he remained largely inactive as of late due to his interests in expanding his family's trade across the republic.

After the incident at the capital, Acraesius calculated that Marcellus would be open to any options regarding his return to favorable opinion in relation to the people of Hyrkan. With Angronius offered in one hand, and the favor of the Hyrkan people in the other, Marcellus would undoubtedly place his loyalties to his side. Once that last piece on the board was placed, the game would begin. And the prize would be his ascension and the ushering of a new age of prosperity for Nuceria.

One night, when Acraesius was out of town and the guards had grown lax in his absence, the doors to the kennels were opened.

Angronius expected his visitor to be the torturer or a guard making his rounds. He didn't expect it to be his former mistress, Polgara, who would risk the Proconsul's wrath and approach his cage.

"Angronius?" The tentative maiden walked into the small chamber, clutching the cloak tightly around her body as the cool damp air assaulted her skin.

The gladiator smiled behind the dim light of the flickering old lamp. He got up from the floor, making a lot of noise as he did so from all the heavy chains that still held firmly to his arms and legs. He approached the bars of the cage and leaned against them so she could see his face.

And so that he could see hers. "Polgara... what are you doing here?"

Polgara drew her hood back, "I was on my way home when I heard that Acraesius was holding you here. I couldn't believe it at first..."

She reached out and touched the faint scars on his chest revealed to her by the light of the cell. Some scars were still fresh and tender. "Merciful Lilith! What have they done to you?"

"I think you can guess that for yourself." He sighed, "Alas, I wasn't strong enough to escape the Proconsul's men unscathed."

"You are a fool. I told you..." Polgara lamented, "Was your precious freedom so worth the cost of your life?"

Angronius didn't feel like arguing, so he smiled at her. "You don't know what it's like, O Daughter of House Thal'kyr. To walk the dusty roads of the land, far from the reaches of the lash and whip. To breathe the fresh air of the open countryside, or the sweetness of the sea. To pluck fruits from the trees and eat them at your leisure..."

He chuckled at the memories, "Indeed, I would risk it all for these things you deem so inconsequential."

"But you are well cared for in our house." Polgara said, "You were elevated above your gladiator brethren."

"Have you forgotten that at a whim, your father would have had my life taken to cover his shame? To live and die at the behest of a cruel master is no life at all. Here, I take my own life in my hands and die the same."

For a long time, Polgara regarded the fugitive in silence. She wasn't that far gone to not understand the mind of a slave, she only needed to try, and try she did.

"Come home with me, Angronius."

"Now why would I do that?" The gladiator said with a frown.

"It would be a better fate than this. Here, you exist as a mere bargaining chip to be used against my father. Come with me, and I will protect you."

"Forgive me, but I doubt you have such power."

Polgara shook her head, "Even in doubt, there is room for trust. I will take you home and once again become your patron. But I promise, this time, my father will never lay a hand on you. The moment he does, he will lose both you and his beloved daughter."

Angronius cocked his head wolfishly, "You would defy your own father to see me live? Why?"

Polgara blushed as her gaze faltered. She looked down shyly at her feet as she admitted the truth, "I like you, Angronius."

"Ah, I see." The gladiator nodded slowly, considering her offer very carefully. He had little choice in the matter, and although it frustrated him to know the painful truth, he was better off living under the sorceress' patronage than as Acraesius' shackled dog.

"How will you see me free?"

Polgara grinned proudly as she held up the guard's key. With it, she released Angronius and reclaimed her lost property. Together, they exited the kennels and headed for the courtyard. They passed some of the Proconsul's guards, who looked like they were under a spell. Angronius guessed it was Polgara's doing, remembering that she was a student of the mystic arts and may have more under her sleeve than he could ever know.

Her personal transporter awaited at the gates of the Palace Amphitiria, where Polgara's loyal wardens kept a watchful eye for any patrols who would get wise on their mistress' scheme. Before long, Angronius found himself safely stowed within Polgara's chambers and well on the way to be returned to House Thal'kyr.

Neither of them got much sleep that night, for Polgara busied herself with helping Angronius get rid of the inhibitor device buried deep in his chest. She wasn't exactly surgeon-material, but a sharp knife and a steady hand was all the gladiator needed to remove the thing.

"Tell me, Polgara..." He said as he dabbed at the wound with a damp cloth, "Do you hold any love for Marsus Acraesius?"

Polgara stiffened at the gladiator's question, taking offense to his abrupt inquiry. Slowly, her temper cooled and her thoughts withdrew to the night when Acraesius laid his hands upon her unjustly. She had too much time to think about that encounter, so badly did she wish to forget it that she thrust herself into any distraction she could find- but to no avail.

The maiden sat down on top of the massive cushion overlaid with soft furs that served as her bed. She rubbed her shoulder as she fumbled around for words to describe what she felt now about the man.

"I don't."

Angronius sensed there was a story behind her answer, so he waited patiently for it to tumble after.

"It's a silly thing, really." She sighed, "I don't even know why I'm telling you this, but I guess it doesn't really matter. I loved...I thought I loved the Proconsul. In truth, what true-blood daughter of the republic wouldn't? He had everything I could ever want; land, station, power and coin. Thousands of girls my age would literally kill to gain his attention, and I was the only one he ever approached. I guess it didn't help that a priest's foretelling of my future drove me to return his affections..."

"Prophecy?"

Polgara nodded, "The High Priest Lucania said that I would marry a warlord, a great general with the blood of Mars. He would make me queen of all Nuceria. Foolishness, really, high-treason even. I should have listened to my mother about forgetting it, if I did I would've seen Acraesius for what he really was. Just another conniving politician who just happens to have a pretty smile and a good sword arm."

If Angronius was born a philosopher, he'd offer a witty remark. Something about men with power being no better than vipers, or something along those lines. Alas, he was not.

"What an ass."

Polgara giggled at the gladiator's unexpected reply.

"Poor Acraesius, his loss..."

The maiden reclined casually against the furs and rested her head on her elbow. "How so?"

Surprisingly, for such an uneducated barbarian, the wisdom of the gods found its way into Angronius' mouth. "Men who let ambition guide them seldom see the beauty in the banal, or the joys of simplicity."

"Do you consider me banal, Angronius?"

The giant got on all fours and climbed over Polgara. The woman no longer shied away from his advances, and she eyed him curiously as he loomed over her. "No, Polgara."

She found herself trapped between his massive arms as Angronius joined her among the furs. She gazed into his face expectantly, her fingers twirling playfully among the tresses of her hair. Angronius gazed back, hungrily and shamelessly undressing her with his eyes.

Polgara knew that in a few short moments, his own hands would be doing the undressing. To mask her uncertainty of what would happen next, the maiden blurted out a hasty sentence to distract herself.

"I retrieved your weapons."

"They are of lesser import at the moment."

He bent down to kiss her, but missed when she playfully turned her cheek. His hand cupped her face to keep her still, then he kissed her properly. He grew heavy, his weight pressed down against her body for a moment before rising to leave her some breathing room. His other hand freely moved across her shoulders, pulling and tugging at the thin coastland gossamer that protected the lady's modesty.

"Don't..." Polgara said breathlessly, "Don't tear my dress, you barbarian oaf!"

"Then help me get you out of it, woman." He growled passionately.

Polgara, her blood hot with desire, pushed Angronius back so she could reach for the strands keeping her robes together. With a shrug of the shoulders, a casual toss of the garment and a flip of her hair, she was out of it. Her hand touched her chest, invoking a minor spell of fortitude, then beckoned for the gladiator to come to his mistress.

Doggedly, he obeyed.

Finally, the woman he secretly coveted was within reach. Angronius, besides feeling honored she chose him, felt happy to have something that no other man or slave could have- especially Acraesius.

Polgara of House Thal'kyr was his that night, and he would show her that the love of a slave could outburn the fiery passions of greater men.

The woman braced herself for him, as she'd never taken a man into her bed before, but grew impatient with anticipation when he started out so torturously slow. She thanked Fortuna for blessing her with the precaution of strengthening herself with the spell, for it felt as though she was being mounted by a stallion.

The pain didn't last, and the pleasures he generously shared with her drowned out any memory of her discomfort.

Neither of them got any good rest that night, but sleep was no thing of great import to them. The hours ticked on, their perception of time was so dulled that it felt like an eternity.

Polgara allowed herself to be taken, crushed and conquered in Angronius' hands. Like a city under siege, she opened her gates wide open for him, and the conquering barbarian ravaged her so thoroughly that she was left with nothing. By the time the sun's first rays started streaming across the countryside, Angronius had left her in ruins.

Spent, but thoroughly satisfied, he removed himself from her to catch his breath. He recovered quickly and pulled the trembling woman into his arms. Polgara would still feel the ache in the morning, but at least the discomfort would bring only the most pleasant of memories.

"Acraesius will not be pleased." She said, having come to realize the full weight of her choice. It wasn't the fact that she was bedding her own slave that bothered her. Such a thing was not new in the republic. It was that she involved herself in the power play being waged by the many high-riders in Nucerian society.

"If he tries to harm you, I'll introduce him to Gorefather and Gorechild." Angronius vowed.

Polgara turned to lie on top of him, then rested her chin on her folded arms. That way, she could look upon her lover's face without tiring. "Angronius, I have vowed to protect you from my father. I make this new vow, I will do all I can to see you free."

Angronius frowned, "Again, at the cost of more gladiator lives?"

"If there was any other way, I would help you..." She said sadly, "But this is the only way."

They've had the same discussion before. But this time, he had a new incentive to return to the same arrangement. His newfound feelings for the noblewoman, the desire to claim her and be free to do so, it was just as important as his freedom.

But before he could make that decision, he needed to know something.

"Polgara." Angronius said, with as much brutal direction as his chainaxe. "Do you love me?"

Polgara nodded.

"Then know that I do not fight only for my freedom, but I fight so I can be with you. Will you stay true to me, while I yet remain a slave?"

"I will." She promised.

Satisfied with her answer, Angronius sighed wearily as he closed his eyes. "Then a hundred more shall fall in your name."

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