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Above was a gallery of still images and moving screens on which contemporary chroniclers recorded the fighters’ exploits.
They strolled through the vast complex past jogging cadets and an extensive, well-equipped gym. A half-naked, dusky-skinned colossus sauntered by with a grin, a towel wrapped around his midriff.
Kaniz nodded to the man in acknowledgement. ‘Kiho.’
‘Brought us fresh one, Kaniz?’ He rolled to a stop when he focused closer on Sana’a, his striped gold and black koya bristling against his dark, bejewelled mohawk. ‘She’s no Katánian.’
‘Nada, I am not.’ Sana’a murmured.
His lodestone glittered as his eyes raked over her. ‘Haven’t seen your kind before. You a bleeder or a brawler?’
The shikari shrugged.
He scanned her for a moment longer, lingering on her lithe muscles and stance. ‘There’s a predator funk about you.’
Sana’a narrowed her eyes. ‘The better to slay you.’
He laughed and nodded, flicking his eyes back to Kaniz. ‘I like her. Put her against Keb. It’ll give us some idea of what she can do. Something tells me I need to place my wager on her. Perhaps even tussle with her myself.’
Sana’a met his cocky grin with a grim smile of her own. ‘I look forward to it.’
He leaned into Sana’a. ‘Get Kaniz to share some tips. She is, pound-for-pound, the arena’s premier female fighter. Amongst the best koya wielders to grace its fight cages and air rings. Her sab?r record is unbelievable, and she’s got quite the collection of procured koya. Potentially, you can learn enough from her to not humiliate yourself.’
He grinned and strolled away.
‘Does he speak the truth about you?’ Sana’a asked.
Kaniz shrugged, watching him leave. ‘Some. He’s famed for his exaggeration.’
‘Who is he?’
‘He’s one of the kavs and also a K?thi master. Cocky as shit, but he’s got a good sense of what’s what.’
They tracked past a spacious changing room.
It was packed with every luxury, from heated towels to steam rooms to sunken baths. The room was filled with more giant silhouettes and vibrated with the shouts of hyped-up warriors.
Sana’a’s eyes were drawn to the muscular bodies, male, female and everything in between. Sweat glistened on their skin, and the predatory power of their vast forms was arresting.
A few curious eyes followed the pair, with some of the elite fighters nodding to Kaniz.
‘One thing,’ the Katánian woman said, pausing in the corridor and nailing Sana’a with a severe gaze. ‘We don’t kill in this arena. They’re secret slaying rings across Katáne, but not this one, so I’d keep words like slay out of your mouth.’
‘Flay then?’
Kaniz sniffed. ‘If you insist. The rule here is we can wound and draw blood but never maim or murder. Both have serious penalties should they be violated. There’s be a handbook in your room locker. Read it.’
Kaniz strode down a new walkway into a dormitory lined with well-lit cubicles, each with a good-sized bunk bed and sink.
Every single one looked clean and was well-maintained.
While all had a door, they also were sectioned from view by silk curtains.
Kaniz slowed at one, closest to a bathhouse. ‘You’re in here.’
Peeking inside, Sana’a noted it was much smaller, darker and more humble than the expansive ones she’d seen a few minutes ago.
When she raised a brow, the woman shrugged. ‘Newbies get the end cubicles. Prove yourself; over time, you may even live like an elite kavaliers, treated like royalty and with private quarters. Until then, suck it. For now, put away your gear and follow me.’
