Amazonia-The Wager

"Today is a good day to die."

Sitting on one of the scarred wooden benches in the waiting hall, my head presses against the rough concrete wall as I look up at Titan. "You ugly, fukin bastard. Every time they stick us together in the arena, you always say the same damn thing. Just once I'd like to hear you say something else."

Titan stands eight feet tall, his earth brown skin, covering the cords of muscle on his large frame, badly scarred from decades of fighting. His rough hands grip the rusty iron bars of the long window looking out onto the sand as he turns his bald head my way. "If I said anything different," his voice rumbles as he grins, showing yellowed fangs, "you would worry that something was wrong. I would never get a moment's peace."

I stamp my sandaled feet on the concrete floor. "Next you're going to accuse me of nagging you."

Titan laughs and continues staring out the barred window. Beyond him, a blond haired gladiator wearing an enchanted slave collar like we all wear... well, all of us except for Titan, is fighting a nomad warrior out of the Khitian wastes. The nomad has dark blue skin and four arms, the two at its shoulder human sized and wielding scimitars, while the child sized arms at its hips carry sword catchers. That's strange, the nomad's not wearing a collar either. Flakes of rust fall from a bar as Titan points out at the sands. "If you bet on Albinus to win against the Khitian, you are going to be out a few coppers."

"What?" I leap to my feet and join Titan at the window. Outside our holding cell the arena's round, with ten foot high walls before the stone benches begin, every space filled with an empire citizen, or resident, or slave, yelling as the gladiator in battle harness stumbles. White sand flecked with red sprays as he recovers, slamming his round wooden shield into the nomad's chest and driving it backwards. Albinus raises his iron sword and stalks forward.

He swings, but the Khitian has recovered as well, evading the blow with fluid grace as its slender scimitar digs a chunk out of Albinus' shield. Its sword is stuck... no, don't try pulling back, use your strength and strike... Damn! The nomad jams its spiked shield catcher into Albinus' thigh, and his scream of pain rises above the crowd's roar. His leg gives out and he falls onto the sands.

Even in the wastes, nomads are supposed to have a sense of honor, and this one's no exception, for he's wrenching his blade from the shield and stepping back to give Albinus a chance to rise. Titan reaches over and grasps my hand, his earth brown fingers gently wrapping around my ebony ones. "You always bet on the underdog."

I squeeze the hand that could crush my bones like rotten twigs with my calloused fingers. "Pure self interest. The odds were something like thirty to one, which meant I would've had a fistful of silver for what, the cost of a few coppers?" Albinus rises, clearly favoring the leg streaming blood from its thigh as he raises his shield. I spit between the bars onto the sand. "Though if I'd known he was going to ignore all the advice you gave him, I'd have bet on someone else."

Titan chuckles and pats my hand before letting go to wrap his own around the rusted bar once more. Brushing a few errant flakes of rust off my stained tunic, I return to the others. Io, an olive skinned Greek with curly black hair, nervously taps his sandaled foot as he always does, while Cotus, a reddish haired Gaul with his mustache hanging down over his lip, leans back against the wall with his legs out and eyes closed. The twins, T'ang and Julu, human males from the Khitian city-state on the edge of the wastes, sit together throwing bones to determine the outcome of the match.

Ragnar's new, a flax haired Norseman who ran up such huge gambling debts that he had to sell himself into slavery. He's larger in frame than the other four, though roughly my size, who relies on strength rather than speed to win his fights. As I move to join Io on the bench, he says, "Amazonia, I'd like to ask you a question, but Io tells me that if you're in a bad mood, you'll chop off my manhood and fry it up with yellow lotus petals and onions."

To my right is the door sized gate leading into the bowels of the arena, with a pair of guards we all know and are friendly with. They laugh as does Cotus, Io keeping his face serious as he gives me a wink. The twins stop what they're doing to watch, while Titan's rumbling chuckle tells me he's listening, even as his gaze remains fixed on the arena fight. I stop in front of Ragnar and place my sandaled foot between his legs. "At the moment I'm not very hungry," I tell him as I lean forward, "so how about a wager instead?"

Io's laugh flows like quicksilver as Ragnar licks his lips. "I know I shouldn't... but what kind of wager?"

I motion towards the window where Titan's standing. "Today's match is an Imperial game, which means the emperor's supposed to be in the royal box. However, he's probably not there as it's well known he doesn't like watching them, so odds are that it's his son Arcadia taking his place."

Ragnar looks puzzled. "So?"

"So, when Albinus finally loses the match, the Khitian nomad will ask for the emperor's traditional thumbs up or down. If it's the emperor in the box, Albinus will be spared, but if it's Arcadia, the nomad will tear his heart from Albinus' chest and eat it raw in front of the crowd."

"The heart is the source of all magical energy within mortal creatures," Julu says. "Nomads are a race of magic users, who need that mana to provide the energy for the casting of their spells."

"So here's the wager," Ragnar's eyes focus back on me as I continue. "If Albinus lives, I'll tell you anything you want to know. But if he dies, you shave all the hair from your body and face, which means your beard comes off, and you become my bed-slave for the night."

He rears back. "I'm not doing that."

"You don't know what you're missing," Io says with a hungry smile. "Young men of noble blood have paid our Dominus in gold to have Amazonia do that to them."

When the mood strikes us and Titan wants to sleep alone, Io knows that better than anyone. But we keep the knowledge off our faces as Ragnar's screws up as if he's just bitten deep into a lemon. "This is a decadent place."

"There are far worse ones in the world," Titan's deep bass voice rumbles. "Before you ask, I will make sure both of you keep your sworn word, but if you are going to wager, do it now. Albinus is on his knees with a sword at his throat."

Ragnar puts the heels of his hands over his eyes as he bounces on the bench in time to his words. "Shite... shite... shite... Yes!" He uncovers his face. "I agree to the wager."

We slap our right hands together and make a fist over our hearts, sealing the bet as Titan says, "The nomad is playing up the moment by raising his sword... he raises the other one..." I can tell by Ragnar's expression he knows he should've never taken this bet, but the goddess Fortuna has her fingers deep into his soul. I'm going to make this a night Ragnar never- Wait, Titan's laughing. "Albinus lives."

"What?" Whirling about, I stride up beside him and stare out through the rusty bars. The Khitian is carrying both his scimitars in his left hand while supporting Albinus with his right. I grab the bars with both hands and pretend to bang my head against them as the chamber behind me erupts in laughter.

When I turn around, Ragnar's face drips smugness like water from the ends of his beard. "Heminja's finally turned her face towards me."

"Who's that," I ask as I drag my feet walking towards him. "One of your ice cold bitch goddesses?"

He folds arms larger than mine across his chest. "I believe I get to ask the questions, Ja?"

"Fine, fine," I grumble, hoping for a reprieve as I glance over at the guards. "How long before we need to arm ourselves?"

"A couple hours," one of them calls back, getting more laughter from the others. Bastards. "I can dip you a ladle of watered wine for your throat if you want."

That's something, anyway. Crossing the chamber, I head for the door gate set within more iron bars, the guard dipping a bronze ladle into a barrel, then handing it over through the bars as I reach him. "Sorry, Az," he says as I take the ladle and drink. "I would've told you the emperor's here today if you'd asked."

Of course you would've... though to be fair, I should've thought to ask. I let the last drops dribble out into my mouth and hand it back. "In truth, Dominus likely wouldn't have allowed it anyway."

"Now that's a wager I would've bet silver on."

"Yeah, me too." I turn around and stop in front of Ragnar, leaning against the wall opposite him as I fold my arms underneath my breasts. "Well, ask away."

Ragnar unfolds his arms and leans back as well. "Is it true you were once a man, but got changed by a Daemo sorceress into a woman?"