And Look Damn Good Doing It

[Airan]

By Zevka-

A light dusting of snow fell from the sky and drifted slowly down into the Crater as Nire Borean watched the four or five dozen new slaves file into the arena, where the lynx and his mounted guards awaited them.

Nire had never been fond of the boars personally ? their smell rankled him, their eating habits disgusted him, and their gaze was uncannily aware in a way that made many beasts, including him, uncomfortable. He would never understand how some beasts seemed to live half their lives in the saddle. However, the lynx had watched boar charges rout much larger forces, both in the Northlands and in his travels, and they had done a fine job putting an end to a small scouting expedition from the famed Redwall Abbey. Some of his own staff had cursed Nire to his face after that incident, certain that retaliation would arrive any day, but seasons had passed without any sign of it. Perhaps Redwall's reputation was, like so many other things, a matter of showbeastship and storytelling.

The lynx pushed those thoughts from his mind as the last of the slaves ? vermin, woodlander, and a few other things too ? were coaxed through the wide doorway. During a show, all the entrances to the arena itself ? doors, ramps, trapdoors, and so on ? would have been concealed behind wooden scaffolds draped with slate grey cloth chosen to match the color of the walls, thus making it very hard to tell from the stands just where a competitor had come from.

Today, however, the scaffold around the largest entrance had been opened up to let the slaves enter in a large group. Vermin or woodlander, Nire's carpenters were invariably the first beasts to get paid when the coin started rolling in ? the system of scaffolds and pulleys and cages and gates that allowed the Crater to function required top-quality labor to build and maintain. Some things were just too important to skimp on.

The slaves were frightened and stressed and tense, but most of them did not look like the classic emaciated, dead-eyed oarslave ? Nire had learned early that beasts like that seldom provided a good showing. In fact, the lynx was pleased at how many of them seemed to be actively sizing up the arena, the guards, even him ? the best gladiators had to have some fight in them, even if right now it was just a matter of instinct and temperament rather than training.

?GOOD MORNING, GLADIATORS!? Several slaves startled visibly at the lynx's loud, somewhat high-pitched voice as it burst through the air.

?Yes, that's right, gladiators! You're not here to till soil, pull oars, build ships, or anything else like that. You're here to kill the beasts to the right and left of you, and look damn good doing it!?

A collective rumble of dismay went through the crowd of slaves, and most of them either gawked in astonishment or glared at Nire in hatred. None of them cheered ? unlike that one great big red fox who had whooped with glee that one time at being told what he was there for. That fox had become a fan favorite several seasons in a row.

The shock in the crowd escalated into anger, and several of the slaves began yelling at Nire or his boar-mounted guards. Suddenly, Nire whistled and the guards on the boars lowered their spears and rapidly closed in on the slaves, most of whom yelped and fell silent.

?You sick, frogwalloping fop! What gives you the right to play Vulpuz?!?? yelled one weasel who clearly hadn't gotten the message. Several sentries tensed, and Nire made a note of who had shouted, but none of the guards moved to strike the miscreant. The time for things like that would come later.

?Oh, don't worry, I'm no corsair captain ? you'll be eating and drinking a lot better than slaver's gruel here, and my benches don't come with chains on them,? Nire pattered as the slaves continued to process the reality of their situation. ?No, you'll be spending your days with my trainers whipping you - sorry, that's a bad choice of words, isn't it? ? getting you into proper fighting shape! You'll learn how to hack and slash and stab and grapple. And when you die!? The lynx suddenly lurched forward and snapped his fangs shut right in front of a squirrel's muzzle. The rodent jumped backwards, but not as much as other members of his species might have. A good sign.

?Hehem. When you die, you'll look damn good doing that, too. Because that's what you're here for. Not me, but for them.? Nire pointed up at the empty stands. ?When we think you're ready, we're going to bring you back here with those stands full of paying customers. Now, we have enough active gladiators to give you lot a few weeks to prepare, but you will not be idle during that time. In fact, a few of you won't make it back to this arena alive, probably, but those of you who do make it back here will be ready. Our audiences expect the best show around, and that's just what you're going to give them.?

As Nire spoke, more beasts entered the arena, these ones wearing the blue jackets of Crater staff. They began to divide up the slaves and move them off towards different exits.

The lynx grinned up at the empty stands. ?After all, it can all come crashing down at any moment. All you can do is just enjoy the show while it lasts. And what a show you're going to give us...?