Ambridge had killed Barash, just as she had killed Rolft. It was the second time she had murdered someone, though this time she didn’t appear to be in trouble for it. The guards had tackled her in the arena and escorted her back to the staging room, but then they just… left her there. Eventually the first guard had returned and silently escorted her back to her room.
Meals came, and night fell. Ambridge attempted to sleep, but it came fitfully, interrupted by nightmares of Barash’s wooden blades slamming against her, and the feel of her axe striking again and again.
The advent of morning with the rising sun was a welcome relief. She rose and attempted to rub the soreness out of her muscles. Breakfast came and she ate greedily; then she sat on her cot and looked out on the sands.
She was surprised by what she saw. Guards were moving about on the sands, pulling out racks of wooden weapons and rows of straw dummies with burlap torsos and wooden heads.
She let herself become absorbed in watching their preparations, finding it far more pleasant than the nightmares of her sleep. When her door opened, she was startled by the unexpected sound and jumped so high she probably would have hit her head on the ceiling if she had been any taller.
“Training time, White Rose.” The guard said amiably before turning and escorting her out.
He led her through the halls and back through the equipment room where she had met Tynev the day before. Today, the far wall and been opened somehow, allowing the people on the sands to easily change their equipment. Several other children were already walking through the room, donning sections of padded armor and grabbing wooden weapons off the racks.
“Outfit yourself as you wish,” the guard instructed, “this time is yours to practice with weapons and train for matches. There will be instructors, though their time is limited.”
Then the guard was gone, turning and leaving without another word.
Ambridge took a staff off the rack and wandered out of the room. Several rows of the dummies had been set up, and she saw other children striking at them with an assortment of weapons. She chose one that was currently vacant, with no one else around and swung her staff against its head.
The staff hit, vibrating hard with the impact. Her hands stung and she reflexively released the staff. The freed weapon spun with its own momentum and struck her in the head.
She fell to the ground from the pain of the blow and laid in the sand for several long moments, feeling embarrassed from the clumsy performance. She had expected her Seal to activate, to guide her strikes as it had against Barash and Rolft. She was almost relieved that it hadn’t.
“You don’t swing a staff with that much power,” a voice said.
Ambridge opened her eyes to see a young man standing over her. Slightly older than her with crisp blue eyes and unkempt blonde hair, he held two wooden swords in his left hand with his right held out to help her up.
“You’re Ambridge, right? The one that fought against Barash yesterday?” the young man asked as Ambridge took his hand.
“Yes.” She replied shyly, struggling to shut out the memories of the axe landing repeatedly.
“That was a positively brutal entry! The crowd loved it!” he exclaimed, not sensing that she was not enjoying the conversation, “He deserved it though. He had only been here for three days and he was already pushing around the smaller boys and taking meals. He’s why we’re all confined for meals right now.”
“Oh…” Ambridge said, realizing that her secluded confines were not normal – but the result of someone else’s poor behavior.
“I’m Lagon, the Blonde Blades,” the young man offered, obviously trying to keep Ambridge’s attention. “You’re practicing with a staff today instead of your axe?”
“Yeah,” she answered, “Whenever I wield the axe, I tend to lose control…”
“A piece of advice; if you lose control when using a weapon, practice more with it. Don’t avoid it.” Lagon replied, “Tynev will probably insist that you keep fighting with it, and you don’t seem like you want anyone else to get hurt.”
Ambridge accepted his reasoning, but she still wasn’t ready to pick up an axe again yet – even just for practice.
“I think I still want to practice with the staff…” Ambridge hesitantly insisted, “At least for now.”
“Alright,” Lagon said, “it’s a good place to start and will help you fight against staff wielders at a minimum.”
Lagon deftly stuck his toe under the staff and kicked it into the air, dropping both of his swords and catching the staff with two hands.
“The trick with the staff is to strike quick and light to parry, block, and throw off your enemy’s defenses,” Lagon explained as he attacked Ambridge’s dummy.
He was holding the staff in the center, allowing him to alternate attacks between both ends of the staff.
“When you get an opening, then you attack with power as you did before.”
Lagon shifted his grip on the staff slightly, alternating one hand down below the other and slamming the staff into the dummy with a strong, two handed blow.
“And when you get really good, you can impress the crowd with spins and flourishes!”
Lagon spun the staff as he attacked again, then twisted in the sands and struck again. Ambridge admitted that the display was impressive, especially when executed by a young, attractive man like Lagon.
“They’re impractical, and in a real fight would just get you killed – but the arena isn’t about what’s real; it’s about whatever will make the crowd cheer your name! But that can work against your opponents as well. Pay attention to those spins and flourishes. They leave openings for you to attack.”
“Doesn’t that hurt?” Ambridge asked, still trying to discreetly rub the stinging from her palms.
Lagon looked startled, apparently just realizing that she had hurt her hands.
“No one showed you the gear, did they? Come on, we have gloves that will help.”
Still holding her staff, Lagon retrieved his swords and led Ambridge back to the equipment room. He set his swords down in a barrel of similar weapons and replaced Ambridge’s staff on the appropriate rack, then he took Ambridge to a chest pull of padded armor. He retrieved a pair of gloves and handed them to Ambridge.
“See if those fit your hands. They should help, but you can also choose staves from this rack here – Tynev wraps most of the practice weapons with padded hilts.”
The gloves matched the ones Lagon himself was wearing, and as she pulled them on and tightened them up her forearms, Lagon selected two staves from the indicated rack. As he had claimed, these staves had padded sections in the center.
As they turned to head back onto the sands, they were confronted by Tynev’s small frame.
“I won’t tell you not to practice with staves, White Rose – but you’ll be wielding an axe when you’re in the arena. The crowds loved you! You already have several patrons!”
“Patrons?” Ambridge asked.
“Yeah,” Lagon explained, “The people can donate money to benefit a specific gladiator, buying them fine weapons and armor.”
“It’s a hard balance to strike with you children – weapons especially.” Tynev continued, glaring at Lagon for answering first, “Gladiators can outfit themselves with leather armor, and Patrons can upgrade pieces from leather to brass. Child gladiators, due to the non-fatal nature of the children’s arena, get padded armor instead of leather, and Patrons upgrade them to leather instead of brass.
“Weapons are excluded, it makes for too dramatic of a difference between contestants when one has a sharpened brass weapon and the other a simple wooden one.”
Tynev moved around Ambridge as he chattered, taking measurements of her head, shoulders, arms, legs, and back.
“Typically, it takes years for a gladiator to earn a single patron – you have three after your first match!” Tynev was excited as he talked about Ambridge’s fortune, but he stopped as he said this, grabbing Ambridge by the cheeks and forcing her to look him in the eye.
“You impressed the crowd with Barash – but if you continue to kill your opponents then I’ll be out of a job. I understand that it was an accident, but don’t let it happen again. If you kill another gladiator, I’ll be forced to have you whipped, which gives me no pleasure whatsoever and makes you less appealing the next time you step into the arena.”
With that unexpected, serious disclaimer, Tynev went back to work, finished his measurements, and dismissed Lagon and Ambridge to return to their practice.