Gladiators Game

1

I roll over on the rough sheets of my bed and look at the pale face of my older sister. I see how uncomfortable she looks. Her blond hair plasters to the sweat dotted across her face. I reach for her hand and find that it's cold, freezing cold. she coughs into my face violently, struggling for air. I raise her head on the pillow. Gently, I put my hand to her head and find that she is burning up. She looks so incapable. I just want my 18-year-old sister back.

I live in the poorest part of Sector Six, the stratum, out of the fourteen sectors in the country of Anem. Sector six known as the seaside sector. We supply sea food for ourselves and the Capital but the fish are now beginning to disappear. The whole country is controlled by the Capital, which is ruled by Emperor Trialinius Breake.

I head to the meadow, and reach the tree where my father had hidden his weapons. I dig my fingers into the bark and peel it away, exposing the blade of my father. I pull it out of the crack and hold it to the shining sun.

My father was once a gladiator. When he realised he couldn't support the family by simply being a fisherman, he resulted to volunteering for the gleaned tribute of our sector. He used a trident as his main weapon in the arena, but that was never found to my family. My father was killed by a blood-thirsty, monstrous gladiator named Herandus. After that, my mother was broken. She never really recovered. Never really will.

I slide the sword into the sheath that I have just recovered from the tree. Strapping them both to my back, I head deeper into the meadow, to the forest, where I can practise. To me, sword practice has always been a way to blow the stress away. Knowing I have a piece of my father with me is, somewhat, comforting.

I lash out on the worn training dummy, cutting it repeatedly on its armoured chest. I plunge, penetrating the underarm, driving the sword through the right shoulder blade. The dummy jolts. I withdraw the sword, panting. Something rustles in the bushes. My heart skips a beat. Possession of weapons insights an uprising, is against the law and is an offence punishable by death. If it's a soldier, I might as well say goodbye to my family.

A rabbit skips out of the bushes and I am relieved.
I draw a knife from my belt and throw it. It buries its sharpened end into the rabbits hide. I walk to it and pull out the knife, lifting the rabbit by its hind legs. Poaching is against the law too, but it's a lesser charge so I care a lot less.

I walk to the trading market and lean against the counter. I have just returned the sword and sheath to the hollowed tree.
"Avery!" I call.
"Amaranth!"
Avery steps out from the back of her market and greets me.
"What has my favourite 16-year-old got for me today?"
I haul the rabbit onto the counter.
"I'll trade it for 40 coins and chicken."
"Done." she says and goes inside to get my share of the trade. Many trades people and merchants take any good kill offered to them. It's one thing I love about this sector.

The next day is Monday so I have to go to school. There is the usual girl gossip so I sit at the bench in the corner of the lunch hall to eat. No-one else is here. No-one bothers to sit next to me. I think it's because I dislike the usual talk of girls which is: boys, clothes and boys. Today is different. As I unwrap the foil away from the hustle and noise of the hall, a boy comes to sit next to me. He looks familiar, and not from seeing him at school.

I make an effort to remember his name.
"Hello" he says.
I look at him.
"Noah... is it?"
He nods. "Amaranth Cadwell."
"What do you want here?" I ask.
"I was trying to escape."
"From?" I pester.
"The noise. The gossip. The others."
I frown. Then I nod and pull out the roasted leg of the chicken I had bought the day before. Noah picks out a bowl of wrapped potato salad. I notice how empty it looks. I bite at the chicken leg. He pushes the food around in his bowl. He then puts the fork away, noticing how I have already finished my hard drumstick. He slides the bowl to me.
"Here." he says.
"Is it poisoned?"
He laughs.
"Amaranth, why would I kill you?"
I feel myself flush with shame. I push the bowl back to him.
"You eat." I say. And then I get up and stuff the foil into the pocket of my leather jacket.