The Valiant (The Valiant #1)(74)

“Pack your things.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and left me standing there, blood staining my hands and tears of frustration welling in my eyes. Suddenly, I realized I wasn’t alone. I turned to see Thalestris standing at the opposite end of the hall from where Sorcha had stormed off. I turned back to the door and angrily scrubbed at the last traces of blood. The Amazon fight mistress came toward me, silent as a hunter stalking prey, and stopped to lean on the wall beside my doorway.

“It’s natural for older sisters to worry,” she said.

My hand holding the rag froze.

“You know?” I glanced up and down the hall to see if we were alone, more than a little surprised. After Sorcha made me swear not to tell our secret, I hadn’t even told Elka. I hadn’t told Cai.

“Of course,” Thalestris said. “I’ve always known. I am the Lanista’s Primus Pilus. We have no secrets, she and I.”

I thought back to the night on Cleopatra’s barge when Sorcha had said the only people who knew I was her sister were the three of us and Charon. She’d seemed adamant to keep it that way, but I supposed she must have made an exception for Thalestris.

“She’s very proud of you,” she said, interrupting my thoughts.

I snorted. “I doubt that.”

She grinned. “The Romans have a saying: In vino veritas.”

In wine, truth. Romans and their wine, I thought. Back home in Prydain the chiefs and freemen drank good dark beer and spiced mead if they wanted to get to the truth of things.

“There was a banquet one night,” Thalestris continued. “Only a month or so before the chariot wreck that ended Achillea’s career as a gladiatrix, back in the days when she was the absolute darling of the city. That’s when I first learned of your existence. One of Achillea’s admirers was bemoaning the fact that there was only one of her. I’d never heard Achillea speak of her past before, but the wine had been flowing all night, and she was in a melancholy mood. She told the man that, in fact, she’d left behind a younger sister—a sister who showed great promise as a warrior, greater even than Achillea herself—and that she was filled with regret that she hadn’t been able to see her grow to fulfill that promise. She boasted that you would have made a fierce gladiatrix. A champion.”

“She said that?”

“She did. And now you are here.” She shrugged. “Perhaps the goddess you both pray to has designed it that way.”

“Or maybe she just has a twisted sense of humor,” I said bitterly. “I’m here, I can fight—better than anyone—and now she won’t let me!”

“As I said, that was before her accident,” Thalestris said.

“I don’t understand what that has to do with me. I’m not even a charioteer—”

“Afterward, we learned that the axle of her chariot had been tampered with.”

I stared at the fight master.

“In the days before the race”—her eyes flicked to the damp planks of my door—“Achillea had ignored certain . . . portents. Warnings. Over the years, the games have become very dangerous, both inside the arena and out. The rivalries between the ludi are heated.”

“She lied to me,” I said. “She told me it was just an accident, not that someone had tried to kill her. Why would she do that?”

“She didn’t want to frighten you,” Thalestris said. “The very worst thing you can enter into the arena with is fear.”

“She also told me she wouldn’t treat me differently than the other girls.”

“Perhaps her perspective has altered.” Thalestris put a fingertip on the damp wood of the door, tracing the faint remains of the stain. “Or perhaps she would take the same course of action with any one of her charges.”

“And do you agree with her?” I challenged. “About sending me back to the ludus?”

“The decision is hers to make, not mine,” she said. “But no. I would send you back into the arena. You can’t win the fight—whatever fight you face—by running from it. But think on this: It would break the Lanista’s heart if she were to lose her beloved sister.” She gazed at me steadily with her dark, unblinking eyes. “Believe me. I know.”

With that, she nodded at me and glided off down the hall. I stood there for a long time after she’d gone, staring at the wet pink rag in my hands and wondering what to do next.

? ? ?

I skipped the evening meal, preferring to brood alone in my room. Of course, Elka wasn’t having any of it, and she insisted on keeping me company while I fumed and paced. When there was a knock on my door I opened it, surprised to see Nyx standing there.

“What do you want?” I asked.

She glanced over her shoulder and then stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “I wanted to see if you were all right.”

“Oh. Of course you did,” I snapped. “And I deeply appreciate your obviously genuine concern. Now get out.”

“Wait.” Nyx shook her head. “That business with the crow? It wasn’t me.”

To my surprise, I could tell from her expression that she was actually telling the truth. Suddenly, I felt exhaustion wash over me. The animosity just became too much effort. I sighed and sat down on the bed.