Page 2

Lingering cryosleep hangover was dulling his mind and cushioning his usually lightning fast reflexes.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and grimaced.

Ironic his life had finally taken a good turn, being a free man and being Kyden’s second in command at the gladiatorial house and now here he was, someone’s prisoner, caught up in what had to be an insane plot.

Kyden will come for me, once he figures out I’ve been kidnapped and finds out where I’ve been taken .

Benet’s job was to stay alive until then and be ready to do his part in the escape.

His old friend and comrade was loyal to the core and while he and Benet weren’t related the way Kyden, Rennyr and Talinn were, the two of them were brothers of the arena.

He’d do anything for Kyden and he knew the reverse was also true.

“Well you’re no Badari,” said a deep voice right outside the cell door, as if echoing Benet’s thoughts. The tone was contemptuous and amused.

Benet rocketed to his feet, angry at being taken off guard.

He stared at the newcomer, taking every detail from head to toe.

“And you certainly are,” he replied in Badari.

After the incident where Benet had stumbled over Talinn being held as a slave on an alien planet, it was decided he needed to learn the Badari language to better deal with any future encounters.

Kyden had been his primary tutor but the other two men practiced with him constantly.

Now it was his visitor’s turn to be taken aback. Eyes wide, the man stared at Benet in disbelief. “And how is it you speak my tongue?”

“My brothers-in-arms taught me,” Benet said.

“What Generation are you?” The man had a full head of silver hair, which Benet found astonishing.

Kyden was from an older Generation than either Rennyr or Talinn yet his hair was deep brown.

No one knew how old Kyden was but clearly the man in front of him had to be older yet.

“One,” he said now, raising his eyebrows. “This has meaning for you?”

“Can we discuss the details of what I know about the Badari later? What’s going on here? Do you know why I was snatched?”

“There’s no time to talk now,” the man said. “The guards are coming to take you out to the training field where you’ll be expected to defeat twenty men to prove your worthiness and skills. To prove you are in fact a Badari.”

Benet stared at him. “What in the seven hells are you talking about? I’m a damn fine gladiator and my boss is Badari but that doesn’t mean I can take on twenty men and live to see the sunset.”

“Listen closely. You’re in the dungeon of Grand Duke Nichevsky, cousin to the Outlier Empress.

He’s determined to win this year’s Imperial games and he went searching for a Badari of his own to make it happen.

He’s asked the Empress to sell me to him any number of times and she always refuses.

She takes great delight in refusing in fact.

Somehow he heard about your House of Badari in the Five Systems and sent a team to abduct one.

The mercenaries picked you, not understanding the situation. ”

Head spinning, Benet fisted his hands on the bars of his cell. “I’m in Outlier?”

“You got that one fact from everything I said?” His companion chuckled derisively. “Yes, and there’ll be no going back. “

Shaking his head, Benet said, “I’ll get home—I’m a survivor.”

“Best they think you are Badari if you don’t want to get dead.

” The man’s tone was harsh. “Listen, you’ll be facing trainees out there today plus a few guards and untrained servants the duke ordered to participate to up the numbers.

There will be a few true fighters mixed in.

If you’re such a great gladiator you should be able to hold your own.

It’s not a battle to the death, only a test.”

Benet heard sounds from the corridor and next moment a squad of guards appeared. The man who’d been talking to him nodded and walked away without another word. Curious what his deal was, Benet stepped away from the bars as ordered.

“Time to put on a show,” the officer said as the door was unlocked and swung open. “Come with us.”

Benet thanked the Lords of Space for the heads up his unusual visitor had given him.

At least he wouldn’t be taken by surprise.

With luck he’d manage to surprise whoever was waiting and this Grand Duke who’d had him kidnapped.

And then he wanted to have a long conversation with the Badari and learn what he could about this place and the games.

Disappointment was uppermost in Dmitri’s mind as he left the dungeon area and headed outside, needing fresh air to clear his head and settle his inner beast. From the moment the duke had revealed his scheme to kidnap another Badari, Dmitri had tried to keep his hopes under control.

To meet another Badari here, after all the long dreary centuries—it would be a gift from the goddess.

Not that he wished for one of his own kind to suffer being kidnapped and forced to compete in the Games, but to have another Badari at his side would be incredible.

He rubbed his chest, where the pack bond used to reside, binding him to his brothers and his Alpha.

There was nothing there now. He was as untethered as any human.

Goddess, just to see and speak with one of his own kind again…

He let the thought trail off. He’d warned the duke it would be extremely difficult to take a Badari prisoner.

The joke was on Nichevsky since the man in his dungeon was no more a Badari than the duke himself.

His expensive team of mercenaries had caught themselves a prime fighter all right, but human.

But he spoke Badari well enough and the only place he could ever have learned Dmitri’s native tongue was from another Badari.

In fact the prisoner had implied there was more than one where he’d been snatched from.

Hearing his own language had nearly brought Dmitri to tears although he’d never admit it.

The kidnapped gladiator could at least converse with Dmitri and let him enjoy using his mother tongue.

He could give Dmitri information about these other Badari.

He was tall, heavily muscled and had the air of a lethal soldier, Dmitri judged, going over his brief time in the dungeon hallway.

But he’s hungover from cryosleep and won’t be able to defeat twenty men on his own, even if half of them are nothing but yokels from the estate.

There are a few ringers there who can hurt him.

In some ways he’s a gift to me from the goddess and if I don’t take action I’m throwing him and what he can tell me away.

He’s not a Badari and he won’t heal as I do and then the duke will have him executed even if he does survive the melee.

Besides, his Badari friends would want me to intervene. Teaching him our language means they must be close and demands I step in.

Decision made, Dmitri broke into a run, using his Badari speed and headed for the practice field where the uneven ‘test’ was to be conducted.

He was never reluctant to take part in a fight, beat up a few of these repellent Outliers, and thwart their plans so today would be a golden opportunity for him.

And if I vouch for the prisoner as being a Badari, who can question me?

No one would dare, not even the duke. The idea was vastly amusing to Dmitri. All these centuries since he was brough to Outlier he’d gloried in small rebellions and hidden gestures and this would be the best joke of all, helping a human masquerading as a Badari.

Benet’s escort took him outside the castle into the late afternoon sunlight and into a grassy expanse enclosed by sonic fencing.

A group of men waited at the far end of the rectangle.

From here Benet could see they were clutching wooden swords and shields.

He took note of a few who seemed comfortable with the weapons because those would be his serious challengers.

Twenty to one was bad odds even for a gladiator of his caliber but if he could mow down enough of the untrained men right away without giving the more expert fighters an opening to take him, then he stood a chance.

The guards took him to the center of the makeshift arena, where there was a viewing stand of sorts, occupied by several men and one young woman.

Benet’s eyes went to her instinctively because she had a sweet face currently set in an expression of distress.

On his behalf, he hoped. Now wasn’t the time to be eyeing a local beauty but something about her drew his attention like a magnet.

She was richly dressed and obviously high ranking, her elaborate hairdo accented with jeweled combs and big rings on her slender fingers.

The nobleman in the center of the group, seated on the thronelike chair with an elaborate crest carved into the gilt back, cleared his throat.

“You will fight,” this man said in heavily accented Basic.

“You will show me what you can do and I warn you, it had better be good after all the trouble and expense I’ve gone to.

” His eyes narrowed and he snapped at the officer. “Where is his vest?”

“I’m not wearing that thing,” Benet said. “When I fight I only wear the symbol of my own House and since I have no insignia here, I’ll fight bare.”

He could tell the noble was upset but Benet was going to deal with this mess he was in his way, not bending a knee, not giving in on any point.

He might never see the Five Systems again and would probably be executed here in the Outlier Empire but he’d die with his pride intact.

Turning away from the viewing party, Benet scrutinized the massed group of opponents.

He could tell which five were the seasoned warriors by the way they held their weapons and their stance.

The other fifteen exhibited varying degrees of being scared and grimly determined.