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The psionicists chose that moment to clamp down on their exchange. Jedra felt their shield fill his mind like water filling a glass, forcing out any other contact. "Let me speak," he said aloud.
One of the psionicists, the older of the two women, said, "You can talk all you want to out loud, but you'll limit your use of psionics to the battlefield. We won't have you plotting an escape right under our noses."
So, they hadn't heard his and Kayan's exchange; they had only sensed that they were mindspeaking. Kitarak's training had evidently paid off in that respect, at least; they weren't broadcasting for all to hear anymore. That was something to remember for later, if they ever did find a chance to plan an escape.
Kayan mumbled between puffed, bleeding lips, "You mean I could have used psionics against that elf bitch?"
The woman laughed. "No, we wouldn't have let you do that, not in practice. But use everything you've got when you fight in the arena. There's only one prize for second place in the games."
She looked like a kindly mother giving her daughter a good piece of advice, and her cheery tone of voice added to the illusion, but she was talking about death. And Jedra and Kayan were both still in pain-pain the psionicists could have masked with a thought.
"How can you do this to people?" he gasped. "You've been in our minds. You know what it feels like."
"Yes, we do," the younger psionicist said. "And now so do you. You know how much pain you can take and still function. That's the most important lesson any gladiator can learn. It will keep you from giving up when you could still fight on."
"Great," Jedra said. "Now I know, so could you please make it go away?"
The younger one shook her head. "No. You need to know how long you can stand it."
* * *
That, it turned out, would be for the rest of his life, or so it seemed. For the next three days Jedra was in constant pain, from his partially healed leg to the bruises that Sahalik kept fresh during each practice session.
There were three sessions per day, some with weapons and some with bare hands, and during each one the burly elf did everything he could to humiliate Jedra as well as beat him senseless. When they fought with blunted wooden swords Sahalik slid around behind him and spanked him with the flat of his blade, and when they fought with spears Sahalik tripped him up and poked at him like a curious boy pokes with a stick at a dead animal.
"You're pathetic," the elf told him during one practice when they were using clubs. "You couldn't fight a one-legged blind man with one arm tied behind his back."
"I don't want to fight a one-legged blind man," Jedra gasped, his breath having momentarily fled from an attack to the solar plexus. "I don't want to fight anybody!"
"No, I don't suppose you do," Sahalik said, swinging his club almost casually at Jedra's head. Jedra ducked, but not soon enough to keep Sahalik's blow from grazing his scalp and leaving another bruise. "You are a coward. That's too bad, because you're going to have to fight anyway, and it's always easier when you enjoy it."
A few yards away, Kayan shouted in pain as the elf woman, Shani, hit her just as badly.
"Enjoy it?" Jedra demanded angrily. "How can anybody enjoy causing someone else pain?" Sweat ran into his eyes, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"Oh, that's easy. The same way you enjoyed making a fool out of me in front of my tribe," Sahalik said. He swung his club at Jedra again, and though Jedra blocked the blow-no, parried it, he reminded himself-the vibration in the wood made his hand go suddenly numb.
"I didn't enjoy making a fool of you," Jedra said. "I was trying to keep you from killing me, that's all."
"By humiliating me instead," Sahalik said, knocking Jedra's club from his hand. "You and your woman. You must have gotten quite a laugh when I fled from my own tent."
Jedra remembered the tension of that night, and the tribe's fear and anger when Sahalik didn't return the next morning. Nobody had laughed. And if Sahalik didn't know that...
"You didn't go back," Jedra said incredulously, not even reaching for his club. "You were afraid they'd laugh at you, so you just left the whole tribe to fend for themselves."
Sahalik didn't answer him. He swung his club at Jedra's legs, but Jedra saw it coming and jumped back.
"You idiot!" he shouted. "They needed you. You were going to be their next chief! And you abandoned them because you were afraid they'd laugh at you? Do you know what happened after you left?"
"They were attacked by a cloud ray." Jedra didn't mention who had called it down on them. He danced around admitting that just as he'd danced away from Sahalik's club. "Kayan and I fought it off," he said, "but one of your warriors was nearly killed and practically everything the tribe owned was destroyed. When we left them, they looked worse than that caravan you sacked." "You lie," Sahalik said, swinging for Jedra's head again, but this time Jedra ducked fast enough. He picked up his own club while he was down and brought it up between Sahalik's legs. The elf howled and jumped back, and Jedra swung again, hitting him a solid blow in his left side.
Jedra didn't know what had happened to him, only that the elf had made him angrier than he'd been in months. Physical pain hadn't driven him to fight back, but Sahalik's hypocrisy and arrogance had finally done the trick. He flailed away on his tormentor with his club, beating him on his legs and chest and even his back as the elf twisted away from his blows, and all the while he shouted, "You call me a coward? You're the coward. You're afraid of laughter." He brought his club down against the elf's left leg with his last shout, and he heard the sharp crack of the leg bone breaking.
Instantly, Jedra felt himself gripped by invisible hands. His club flew away, tumbling end over end across the practice field, and the dark presence of the psionic guards filled his mind. Sahalik sat down heavily and clutched at his leg, then he tilted his head back and screamed in rage and pain. Jedra expected the elf to get back up and batter his head to a pulp now that the psionicists held him immobile, but instead the elf motioned for them to let Jedra go. He looked up at Jedra while he waited for them to come heal his injury, and he said through clenched teeth, "I think there may be some fight in you after all. Good. If you remember what that felt like when you fight your first real battle, you may even survive it."
"I don't want to fight," Jedra told him again.
"Too bad," Sahalik said, "because you're going to in three days."
