Page 7 of Ironhold, Trial Two

I wake the next morning to find that I have been summoned to the gates. I walk there and find them open a crack, revealing a palanquin beyond , decorated in gold and mother of pearl, carried by four burly porters. A curtain on the side window of the palanquin twitches aside slightly, revealing a brief glimpse of Lady Elara, beckoning to me.

I realize that she has done it, she has come to collect me as my patron. For the first time since my arrival, I will be able to set foot beyond the walls of Ironhold, without it being to go to fight in the Colosseum. That prospect fills my heart with joy.

“What are you waiting for?” One of the guards on the gates demands. “Get out there. We need to get these gates closed again.”

He treats it as if it is just an ordinary day, rather than the first taste of freedom I have had since I was brought here. I hurry out of the gates heading for the palanquin and hopping inside. Lady Elara is waiting for me, seated on silken cushions. She gives a signal and the palanquin rises, the two of us carried back towards the waiting city.

“You came for me,” I say.

She raises an eyebrow. “Did you doubt that I would? We need to begin your training.”

“And all of this?” I ask, gesturing to the palanquin.

“Should a noble woman of Aetheria travel in squalor?” she asks. She sighs then. “It is expected of me. When I travel, and people recognize me, they must also see that I behave in a way that fits their image of a noble. I must be seen to be decorated and pristine, aloof and demonstrating my wealth. It is a performance, much as the ones you put on in the arena are performances.”

“I doubt anyone has ever been killed for not riding around in one of these,” I point out. There seems to be a world of difference between the lives of the nobles and the deadliness of the Colosseum.

“You might be surprised,” Lady Elara says. “A noble woman walking unescorted in the wrong parts of town might quickly find herself robbed and killed. And then there are other more subtle dangers. If I do not appear to be what people think I should be, they will start to say I have lost some of my wealth and influence. That, in turn, will cost me wealth and influence. If I lose enough I become vulnerable. There are those who would take advantage of it. Possibly some of them would see me dead if they could.”

“You nobles make everything sound as though it's some grand game. As if everything that goes on in the city is just you moving pieces around.”

“We nobles?” Lady Elara says, with a slight smirk. “You have been hanging around with lots of us then? Is there another patron I need to worry about?”

I shake my head. “There are enough nobles in Ironhold. Half of them talk like you.”

“Ah, the whelps of the wealthy. Do you know one of the great lies of the Colosseum?”

I suspect she's about to tell me, so I shake my head.

“That they somehow have more choice in being there than you do.”

“They are free gladiators,” I point out. “They did not have to choose to be in the arena.”

Lady Elara laughs lightly. “You actually believe that, don’t you? Do you really think that someone like Vex could have avoided his family tradition? Or that Lady Ravenna would be there if she didn’t think it was her only chance of netting a wealthy husband when she is done?”

I’m about to point out that Ravenna has other reasons for being there, but I suspect she wouldn’t want me to share those.

“What about Alaric?” I ask. “If anyone is in it just for the glory, he is.”

“And we have sold our young nobles a dream of glory. A fantasy where the way to fame, power, money, or simply honor is to go into the Colosseum and fight to the death.” Lady Elara looks saddened by that. “Aetheria is not what you think, Lyra.”

“And what is it?” I counter.

“Perhaps you should see for yourself.” She leans out of the window for a moment. “That's far enough, thank you. Go ahead to the house. We will be fine from here.”

I feel the palanquin being lowered to the ground. Lady Elara gets out, pulling a dark cloak around herself. I step out to join her.

“I thought you said that a noble woman walking the streets alone was likely to be robbed and killed?” I say.

“But I am not alone,” she says. She passes me a similar cloak. “I have you to protect me. A gladiator with a whole season behind her.”

I can't tell if she's mocking me, but it seems that she's serious about walking. We are on the fringes of Aetheria, still not inside the walls. I wrap the cloak around me, following Lady Elara as she sets off along the streets.

When I have walked the streets of the city it has been as part of a procession of other gladiators. People have lined the route, calling our names and throwing flowers. Today, people are just going about their ordinary business.

There is filth and squalor all around in these areas beyond the walls. The city has slums on its fringes, without the benefit of the magic that seems to make life so wondrous in the center. Obviously some of the people here have magic. I can see a vendor using small sparks of flame to heat scraps of meat to sell, see a fishmonger whose catch is kept cool in spite of the heat of the day by the efforts of a small boy standing near.

Magic is useful as savory purposes as well. As I pass a squalid gambling house, I can feel a faint pull on my mind, trying to draw me inside. I see a stall of rotten meat where the proprietor is using illusions to make them seem more palatable. I see a coin lift itself out of the pouch of a passing worker, floating over to where a street urchin is waiting to pocket it.

Lady Elara and I keep walking, heading for the walls. Around me the city is rich with pungent smells, from the scents of spices brought in from around the world, to sweat and blood. The houses around me are covered in graffiti, proclaiming allegiance to this or that faction or gang, sometimes simply decorating homes with profanity. I am surprised to find my own name up there on one of the walls, along with a crude drawing of me setting a cat on someone.

“You didn't know you were famous through the city by now?” Lady Elara asks, catching the direction of my gaze.

I shake my head. “I've only fought three times.”

“A season is all it takes sometimes,” she says. “People latch onto their favorites quickly. Of course, should they die, they discard them just as swiftly.”

It’s a reminder that my situation is precarious, that whatever fame I have is potentially ephemeral and fleeting. That’s fine; it isn’t something I asked for.

We keep walking, finding a spot in the walls where the stone has crumbled slightly. Wooden scaffolding is up, while workers seek to repair it, although they don’t seem to be doing much. It takes me a moment or two to spot that they are all wearing scraps of blue cloth somewhere, on their wrists or necks, their ankles or sword belts. And several of them are wearing sword belts.

“A gang?” I say to Lady Elara.

She nods. “The various factions control different facets of the city. The blues hold open smugglers’ entrances, ways to enter and leave the city without attracting the attention of the guards.”

I wonder why she's showing me this. Is she giving me a potential way out of the city if I ever decide to escape? Or does she really just need a way in without being spotted? She passes a coin to one of the gang members there, who looks us over.

“Seems to me the two of you could give us a lot more than that,” he says.

Lady Elara looks over to me, pointedly. I understand what she wants. I push back the hood of my robes, letting them fall open enough that the gang member can see the brand mark of Ironhold.

“We could give you trouble you don't want as well,” she says. “Or we could pay the normal price and pass in peace.”

The gang member steps back. A flicker of fear crosses his face. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I like that we were able to defuse the situation without violence, but I don't like people being afraid of me. I pull my hood up again hurriedly, and we pass through into the city.

Even the space within the walls doesn't seem as bright and clean as it does when we pass through it as part of the parade. There are many twisting back streets here, some lit by flickers of magical light, others left in shadows.

As we pass an alley, I can see half a dozen men surrounding a smaller figure, apparently administering a beating. Lady Elara pauses, seems to concentrate for a moment, and a few rats scurry in from the shadows biting at the ankles of the attackers. They yelp and back off, giving the figure they're attacking just enough room to make a run for it, quickly disappearing from sight around the corner.

We keep moving.

“I don't understand why you're showing me all this,” I say to Lady Elara as we walk through the twists and turns of the city.

“I want you to see some of what the city really is,” she says. “Aetheria claims to be the greatest city in the world. Maybe that part's even true. But he also claims to be a beacon of light where the rest of the world is dark and dangerous, uncivilized and brutish. I want you to see that, just because the city sweeps the worst of its excesses into the back streets, that doesn't mean they aren't there.”

“I know that the empire is cruel and evil already,” I say.

“But you don’t see how much that affects everyone, even here,” she counters. “No one benefits from the way Aetheria is set up except a small group of nobles. Even they lose children to the Colosseum. The people I work with try to help people.”

“Like you did in the alley?” I say.

“A small example, but yes. Controlling your powers can let you change things for the better.”

“And where does the arena fit into all of this?” I ask.

Lady Elara pauses. “It is a number of things at once. On one level, it is a distraction for the masses, to keep them from revolting. It is also a way to take people with talents from around the world and make them a part of Aetherian society, if they survive. It is a place where nobles can play out power games among themselves. It is a place to dispose of enemies or make a public spectacle of justice."

“That’s a lot of things at once.”

“There’s more,” Lady Elara says. “But we can talk about it once you’re ready.”

“Where are we heading anyway?” I ask. “To your home?”

She shakes her head. “Not for what I have in mind. Follow me.”

She keeps leading the way through the streets, until finally we reach a garden filled with stone monuments that appear to be memorials to the dead. There is a gate in the middle of the memorials, with steps beyond it, leading down. Lady Elara opens it.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask.

“To the only place we can truly be safe.”