Free The Hunter on Arena by Rose Estes Page B

belt.
    Braldt could not help but wonder what the purpose was of arming them with the weapons of their choice, for what was to prevent
     them from attacking the guards? But no sooner had the last of them made their choices than the guards moved in, surrounding
     them on all sides and relieving them of their weapons at swordpoint. Marin growled and raised his spear, but in an instant
     four swords pricked the skin of his throat.
    Then the captain, with his sword at Marin’s throat, said, “Do not throw your life away for nothing. The weapons will be given
     back to you in good time. It is nothing to me if you choose to die. If you want to make a fight of it, we will gladly spill
     your blood here and now.”
    Marin hesitated and then, a contemptuous sneer twisting his lips, he dropped the lance to the ground with a clatter. Brushing
     the swords aside, he swaggered toward the door, forcing the guards to hurry after him.
    This proved to be the end of their outing and they were marched back to their cell following the curve of the passageway as
     well as a labyrinth of dark, twisting corridors. It was apparent that the arena and its surroundingenvirons consisted of a far larger area than any of them had realized.
    Throughout the entire journey, there had been the rumble and shriek of wild animals, sometimes distant and at other times
     seeming quite close. Several times they had intersected corridors that sloped down, and the sounds were loudest of all at
     these junctures as was the stink of wet fur and offal.
    “I don’t understand,” Braldt said to Randi as the door to the cell clanged shut behind them and they settled onto the cold,
     stone floor. In their absence, the water bucket and the flea-infested blanket had been reclaimed by the inhabitants of the
     cell.
    “What don’t you understand?” Septua asked, casually resting his hand on Randi’s thigh.
    “I don’t understand why they took us through all that nonsense. What is it they have planned for us?” she replied with a frown,
     lifting the dwarf’s hand off her thigh and placing it firmly in his lap.
    “I think we are to fight, to provide entertainment for these so-called Masters,” Braldt said slowly. “Remember what they said,
     we are to fight or perish.”
    Marin smiled, an unpleasant grimace with no hint of humor in it, and he cracked his knuckles as though wishing it were someone’s
     neck. “I will fight for them gladly,” he said, the points of his teeth visible behind his bared lips. “And maybe I will kill
     a few of them along the way.”
    Septua’s mobile face brightened at the thought of reclaiming his deadly assortment of toys and he nodded his approval. “When
     we are armed, they cannot stand upto us, I think. After we kill a few of them, then we will escape!”
    A shrill cackle interrupted their conversation. A small, withered figure wrapped in rags, its gender and even its race indeterminable,
     wiped its rheumy eyes as spittle drooled from its toothless mouth. “Escape you say? Why, you fools, don’t you know that the
     only way you’re likely to escape this place is feet first, if you still got any feet left when they be done with you?”
    “What are you saying?” Marin demanded, seizing the ragged creature and shaking it violently. The old man’s hand streaked inside
     its mantle of filthy rags and withdrew a homemade blade, slashing Marin across the wrist. Marin released the stinking bundle
     with a curse and clamped his hand on the wound which was already coursing with streams of bright blood.
    “You are fools,” the old one said bitterly as he scrambled backward out of Marin’s reach. “No one gets out of here alive.
     No one. We exist only for the pleasure of the Masters. When you cease to amuse them you will die just like all the others.
     They will feed you and dress you and arm you and set you against each other. You will vow undying friendship and loyalty to
     one another, but in the end you will betray each