They stopped by the entrance to the Gate, and looked out upon the crowd. It was mid morning and the arena was not yet full, but there was throng enough to make a massive noise.
‘It is sort of exciting,’ Danae said, ignoring Thebe’s baleful look.
A fat, balding man puffed his way onto the sands, and began motioning for silence. He raised the horn to his mouth, and began to shout. ‘The first of today’s combats is upon us!’ he bellowed and was instantly drowned out by the crowd. It took some time, but eventually they quieted. ‘The gladiatrices to fight for your pleasure today come from great warrior lands. Far to the north, beyond the land of the barbarian Britons is Caledonia, a place where they eat the flesh of babies and worship evil gods!’
This was greeted with a chorus of boos and hisses. Evidently, the editor was casting Lysandra’s foe in the role of villain. ‘Great Governor Frontinus, gathered notables and people of Halicarnassus, I bring you Albina of Caledonia!’
At his words, the Gate opposite Lysandra’s own swung open, and a huge woman stepped out. She was freakishly tall, her skin whiter than winter snow; on this canvass she was painted in weird blue designs, spirals and arcane symbols that crawled all over body.
Her chest was so corded with muscle that her breasts were non-existent, and thick ridges stood out on her stomach. Her head was shaved bald, giving her an even more hellish aspect. The Caledonian was truly an awesome sight, towering like a colossus as she derided the abuse the crowd hurled.
‘What do you think?’ Danae said after some moments of stunned silence.
‘I think I shall need a bigger sword,’ Lysandra muttered, taken aback at the sheer size of the woman despite herself.
‘And her opponent,’ the fat man was shouting, ‘from the great warrior state of Sparta,’ he gestured theatrically. ‘I give you Achillia!’
The Gate of Life drew open but Lysandra remained inside. It was Achillia who stepped out before the crowd.
To the sound of the trumpets, Lysandra marched towards the centre of the arena, as did the massive Caledonian. She could hear the odd dirty comment at the sight of her near naked body, but this she ignored. That women were made to fight in near nudity was all part of the show and she knew it.
She faced Albina as slaves rushed out, handing the two women buckler and sword. The Caledonian grinned at Lysandra, revealing a savage array of teeth that had been sharpened to carnivorous points. Lysandra cocked an eyebrow at this, her own mouth twisting in a sneer.
The two turned and saluted the governor, who acknowledged them with a nod of his head. This done, they whirled about to face each other. The Caledonian dropped into a fighting crouch.
Lysandra remained standing erect. She stretched her neck from left to right and spun her sword twice in her hand, drawing appreciative whistles from the watching mob. Only then did she take an on guard position.
‘I’ll kill you,’ Albina growled, her voice hideously distorted by her sharpened teeth.
‘The contest is not won on foul stench and ill-looks. Were that the case, you undoubtedly have the advantage. As it is, I shall carve you to ribbons, you barbarian bitch.’ With that Lysandra stalked forward, her face an implacable mask.
Albina did not rush in as Lysandra’s first opponent had done.
She was no novice and she would not be provoked by harsh words. She allowed herself to be tracked, content to mirror Lysandra’s movements, cutting off her angle of attack.
They circled for some moments, neither willing to commit to the strike. Lysandra could hear the mob becoming restless, shouting for some action. Let them, she thought. They are not fighting a Colossus made female.
Suddenly, without sound or warning, Albina lunged in with a quickness belying her enormous size. Her short sword hissed like a viper as it cut the air, and instinctively Lysandra raised her shield to intercept the blow.
It was like punching a wall of marble, so powerful was the Caledonian’s strike. Gritting her teeth, Lysandra hit back, feeling her own blade clatter off the barbarian’s shield.
‘You are weak!’ Albina snarled and attacked anew, driving Lysandra back with a flurry of blows. The Caledonian’s greater height gave her an advantage in length of stride and her forward momentum ate up the ground between the two combatants, bringing her ever closer to Lysandra. The powerful northerner rained blows down on her, but she was able to fend them off with her parmula. Albina stepped in as Lysandra struck back and the two women locked together, sword on shield.
Lysandra felt her muscles bunch as Albina forced her downwards, straining against the inexorable force of the Caledonian giant. Albina’s eyes bulged as she pushed, cords of iron-hard sinew standing out on her pale flesh. Lysandra butted her head forward, trying to catch Albina unawares, but the savage warrior was too canny. She lifted her chin, allowing Lysandra’s forehead to slap harmlessly against her chest. She was now blinded by a wall of flesh, her face sliding over the oiled, muscled torso of her enemy.
Suddenly, pain tore through her shoulder as she felt Albina’s sharpened fangs sink into her. Blood burst from the wound, dripping wetly down her back and chest.
Agony lanced through her body, but the pain gave Lysandra strength and she surged back, shoving the heavier woman away.
She scuttled backwards and Albina laughed, a harsh guttural sound. Her sharp teeth were stained pink with Lysandra’s blood and thick, scarlet fluid hung from her chin in glutinous strands.
The crowd screamed, excited at the sight of first blood, and Albina spat out a whitish clump of Spartan flesh.
It was a sickening sight, but Lysandra ignored it, calling on her training, learnt both in the agoge and the ludus. Ignore the pain.
The mind is stronger than pain.
Her face emotionless, she advanced on her grinning opponent, refusing to allow herself to become angered. In fury lay defeat; she would win through superior tactics and skill. Her blade flashed in the sunlight as she attacked, causing the Caledonian to lose her sneer and focus on the task at hand. Albina struck back and Lysandra let her come on, waiting, waiting, judging the correct moment to strike. She lowered her buckler a fraction and the northerner seized the opportunity, stepping in to cut her head from her body.
Lysandra’s foot lashed out, hammering straight up between Albina’s legs, smashing satisfyingly into the barbarian’s pubic bone, causing her to cry out. Elated, Lysandra pounced, her blade cutting downwards. Albina hastily raised her buckler, catching Lysandra’s iron, but the deflection was glancing and the sword bit into her upper arm, causing bright droplets of blood to fly. Albina tried to stab her sword into Lysandra’s side, but her shield was there. The blow was still sickeningly powerful, the force of it knocking her off balance. Intertwined, the two women crashed to the sand, rolling over and over, each trying to gain the advantage.
Both gladiatrices scrabbled to gain a grip on the other, but their oil-slicked bodies would not allow purchase. As they writhed against each other, Lysandra felt her hold on her shield break and it was lost to her as they fought on. With a desperate effort, she scrambled on top of her foe, her blade spinning round in a dagger-like grip. She caught Albina’s sword arm with her left hand, now free of the buckler, and made to ram her sword into Albina’s chest; but the Caledonian, seeing her danger thrust her shield arm straight up before Lysandra could strike, the hide of the buckler slamming into her face with a stunning force.
Dazed, Lysandra fell back, regaining only enough of her facul-ties to roll away. The titanic Albina got to her feet, her huge chest heaving. Both women were bloodied and sand mired, the grit of the arena floor clinging to their bodies. The barbarian came in, and a furious flurry of blows was exchanged, Lysandra’s sword moving like lightning to deflect both blade and buckler, which was at once weapon and defence.
She was fast, but could not avoid a horizontal slash, and the tip of Albina’s sword sliced across her belly. She hissed in pain, but no respite was afforded her. Albina’s buckler swung round, catching her in the side of the head, slamming her from her feet.
Blood pounded in her ears as she crashed to the sand. White spots exploded before her eyes, and the world tilted crazily. Through the haze she saw Albina walking in, her sword raised for the killing blow.
No! It could not end thus.
Lysandra surged upwards, rolling towards the onrushing Albina.
The move caught the Caledonian off guard, but even so, she was fast enough to bring her shield down to protect her exposed stomach. Too late she realised Lysandra’s gambit.
