Free Arts of Dark and Light: Book 01 - A Throne of Bones by Vox Day Page B

her stomach was tight with dread and anticipation.
    Her father and three brothers were seated in front of her, to her left. As one of the women nearly managed to skewer the green-skinned inhuman with a clumsy jab, her father leaned over and said something to her oldest brother, Regulus, who threw back his head and laughed. Her mother, being more than a little squeamish, wasn’t there. She was at home with Severa’s younger sister, Severina, who was too young for the bloody violence on display.
    But not Severa. What was more, she had been permitted to bring her friends Caera and Falconilla with her, both of whom were tremendously excited to be seen by everyone sitting in the princep’s box.
    “Those creatures are so disgusting,” Falconilla commented, staring at the goblin with an incredulous expression on her face. “Can you imagine how they must smell? Where do they find them anyway?”
    Her brother Tertius, only a year older than Severa, leaned back to reply. “Considering that House Valerius has three legions marching through their lands right now, I imagine there will soon be a surfeit of them in the markets. Would you like one, my lady Falconius?”
    Falconilla didn’t deign to provide Tertius with a verbal response but merely turned up her nose at him. Tertius laughed and turned his attention back to the amateurish battle.
    The goblin was nearly as tall as the shorter woman but much skinnier, and its legs and arms were disproportionately long by human standards. Its skin was a light green color with hints of yellow here and there, and a faint dusting of dark green hair covered its chest and lower belly. Whatever passed for its goblinhood was mercifully concealed by a dirty cloth that may have once been white. The goblin’s face was a mask of bestial desperation. It bared sharp and yellowed teeth at the women as it once again managed to duck a spear thrust at its chest. The women seemed to be a little slower than the goblin, and their failure to coordinate their attacks made it easy for the greenskin to evade them. But despite its long arms and greater speed, the short length of the crude dagger with which it had been provided made it difficult for the goblin to get past the iron spearheads without taking a high risk of being impaled.
    “Whatever did those poor women do to find themselves thrown in the arena?” Caera asked Severa.
    “Who knows,” she answered. “Maybe they’re slaves no one wanted.”
    “Do you think so?” Caera sounded surprised. “The taller one is pretty enough to be a bodyslave.”
    “What of it?” Falconilla asked dismissively. “That filthy goblin is pretty enough to be an Andronican lady-in-waiting.”
    “Or the wife of a Valerian,” Severa said, laughing. “Maybe that’s why House Valerius sent their legions north—it’s the only way they can find anyone to marry their sons and daughters!”
    There was a scream below, and the three girls in the box looked down. The goblin had managed to slash one woman’s left arm, leaving a deep wound running nearly the length of her upper arm. The woman grimly held onto her spear with both hands even though the blood was running down her forearm and dripping onto the sand, but her next pathetic attempt at thrusting the spear at the goblin revealed that she’d been badly hurt.
    “She poisoned her husband,” Tertius said unexpectedly.
    “What?”
    “That woman.” He pointed down at the woman who’d just been wounded. “She’s a Lucanian who poisoned her husband. The other one is an adulteress who went to a witch to kill her unborn child after she fell pregnant. I don’t know where she’s from, but she looks Epran. They’re not warriors or slaves. They’re damnatii.”
    “Really?” Falconilla was staring at her brother in amazement. “How do you know that?”
    “I sent Marsupor to talk with one of the trainers at the stable. It’s rather stupid to wager on combats if you know nothing of the combatants involved, don’t