“The—” He felt tongue tied and the conversation had an air of unreality about it.
“Today’s prize money. We won, you fought, you get your share.”
“Thank you.” He refused to call her mistress right now, not after what they’d shared. Before she could make any more awkward small talk he slipped out the door and went to find Darryl, snagging a tee shirt from a table of merchandise and shrugging into it.
Chapter Three
Next morning he carried out his chores at the compound’s zoo with a severely wandering mind. He’d watched the sports channels on the trideo viewer in his room and heard the commentators talk about the surprise debut of Samyra’s newest fighter. He’d seen the footage of himself over and over and heard more than he ever wanted to know about himself, his body, his ‘unique’ fighting style and speculation whether he’d be a regular on the lineup now.
He also heard the gossipy wink-wink talk about whether Samyra had indulged in a little post-bout encounter with her new fighter. Apparently tipsters backstage at the arena had observed how the two of them went into her private suite and it had been a while before he emerged alone. The one gratifying thing he heard was the way it was mentioned over and over how she was not known to consort with anyone on her team. When the analysts began talking about men she had been linked with, he turned the broadcast off with such a savage gesture, he’d nearly broken the controller.
As he was setting up the day’s enrichment activities in the tree ferrets’ enclosure, he heard soft footsteps in the hall and his heart leapt.
“Last night was a mistake,” Samyra said from behind him.
He dropped the supplies he was carrying and strode to where she stood. “I heard the gossip on the trideo. I’m sorry they don’t have anything better to do than drag your name through a scandal.”
She waved the concern aside. “Oh that. If anything it’ll heighten the interest in your next appearance. My public relations team is already out there slanting the chat. No, I owe you an apology.”
Jamirr jumped the low fence between them. “I don’t understand. Last night was—was everything.”
Samyra shook her head. “When I first established my control of the House, I made a vow to myself not to ever abuse my position as the owner, not to ever ever place one of my fighters in the position of having to—to be intimate with me. Just because you wear my bracelet and there’s a bill of sale on record neither gives me the right to impose my desires on you.”
“Is that what you think you did?” he asked in astonishment. “I was with you all the way. My desire for you was—is—boundless. I was honored and humbled to make love to you.”
“You don’t understand what I’m trying to say. You’re a slave, my slave. You have no true free will in this situation, knowing I could order you killed or sell you. You can’t say no to my demands and I was out of line?—”
He could see tears sparkling in her eyes and he stopped her with a gentle kiss. “If I’d wanted to say no to you last night, never doubt I would have. I’m my own man despite this”— and he held up the bracelet—"or any other untoward persuasion. I would have refused you and made it stick.” He knew it was the truth. He might not have many memories of his life before waking up in a cage but he had muscle memory of being taken against his will at least once and how hard he’d fought. He’d never submit to anyone without a huge fight. “We were two people who’d been through a battle together and we wanted each other and we took comfort and pleasure in each other equally. A man and a woman, not a slave and his owner. Two gladiators together.”
“Beautiful words,” she said in a whisper. “I thank you for them but nevertheless it can’t happen again no matter what I might wish.” She raised her face to his. “I’d free you today if I could but the laws of this planet forbid the freeing of any slave unless he or she pays the price with hard credits. The government gets its share.”
“Free me, don’t free me, it’s all paperwork. I’m yours, Samyra.” He took her hand and placed it over his heart. “In here, I’m yours.”
She slid her hand from his and retreated a step. “It’s impossible for us right now. If you’re willing to fight even on an irregular basis, you can earn credits toward your freedom. I could give you a different answer then.”
“I’ll fight when you need me,” he said. “The weakness comes and goes, doesn’t it?”
“I work so hard to hide it.” Samyra extended her right hand and he saw the subtle tremor. “Last night it got progressively worse as the fight went on. If you hadn’t come in, Tirion would have won and he could have demanded my death. I don’t know if the audience would have given it to him but?—”
“We’re not going to find out,” Jamirr said, threading his fingers through hers and squeezing gently.
She stared at their joined hands, sadness in her eyes and then tugged herself free. “You’ll need to train at least a bit, to be able to counter the moves the opponents can make.”
He’d expected this so he nodded. “As long as you know I’m only setting foot on the sands to protect your flank. I know we can’t make it that obvious of course but I’m not becoming a fulltime gladiator, not even for you.”
“I’ll figure out a schedule,” she said and fled from the zoo area.
* * *
Millions of light-years away…
Kyden the Death Dealer, top gladiator in the Five Systems and the owner and Master of the House of Badari, sat in his office, which was enough to put him in a bad mood by itself—he was a man of action and movement—and reviewed holos and trideos and detailed applications for a program he was regretting already. His House needed new blood for a variety of reasons and so he and his closest advisors had put together a special program to bring in promising candidates from elsewhere in the Hinterlands where gladiatorial contests were held. The Five Systems was considered the most elite venue in the galaxy for the bloodsport so when Kyden had issued an open call for fighters to fill a few spots for ‘guest’ performers, he was of course inundated with hopefuls.
He also thought this was an interesting way to fill the offseason and show the public something different, as many of the candidates would have unusual fighting styles and skills. The other owners had agreed to let him try a pilot program and evaluate the results together after the time ended. “They like the idea of me doing free recruiting for them,” Kyden had told his mate-wife Elara. “Of course we get first pick of any good candidates.”
Most of the applications were hopeless of course. Wannabes and low level fighters who lacked the requisite skills. Ninety per cent of the names were dropped in the thanks but no thanks pile after a quick viewing of their highlight holos. They’d receive a tactful form letter rejection with his reproduced signature and a souvenir holo. Of the remaining ten percent there were a few who were of serious interest. Kyden and Benet his Executive Officer were now attempting to arrive at a final roster so the invitations could be issued and the actual exhibition games scheduled.
A chiming on his desk caught his attention and Kyden shoved aside piles of data chits and holo cases to find his handheld. Items cascaded onto the floor and Benet laughed. “Now why didn’t I think of doing that? Just throw them all on the floor and be done.”
