Chapter 254: v4 - 15: Training grounds IV

Chapter 254: v4 Chapter 15: Training grounds IV

Three months had passed since they entered the training grounds.

Nearly five months had passed since Cassian fell from the ravine.

The days had gone by quickly.

At first, there had been little time to think about anything beyond training. His body had needed to recover, and every day had been filled with running, sparring, weapons practice, and learning the local style.

He had thought of Marian, of course.

Sometimes during the quiet moments after training.

Sometimes before sleep.

He had wondered what she was doing, whether she was safe, whether she was waiting for him.

But those thoughts had always been brief.

There had always been something else demanding his attention.

Now, with the first duel only a day away, the instructors had finally given them an afternoon without training.

Cassian sat alone for a while, and for once there was nothing he needed to do.

No running.

No sparring.

No weapon in his hand.

Just time.

And with nothing to occupy him, his thoughts inevitably returned to everything he had left behind.

Five months.

Back home, there would no longer be any question of whether he was coming back.

They would have accepted his death.

Cassian knew what that meant.

His name would have been mourned.

His household would have been thrown into uncertainty.

His dukedom, without an heir present to claim it, would likely have reverted to the Crown.

But it was Marian he thought about most.

The last time he had seen her, they had been preparing for their wedding.

And Cassian knew exactly who had wanted him dead.

Adrian.

His cousin.

There had never been any real hatred between them.

No old grievance..

There had only ever been Marian.

Adrian had wanted her.

And Cassian had stood between them.

That was why he had been ambushed.

Cassian had seen the men with his own eyes.

He had understood enough to know who had sent them.

There was no doubt in his mind.

And the way it had been done told him something else.

Adrian had wanted him removed quietly.

No confrontation.

No accusation.

No trail leading back to him.

Just a man disappearing somewhere far from the capital.

A death that could be mourned as an unfortunate tragedy.

Cassian understood why.

Adrian wanted his hands clean.

And if that was how Adrian had dealt with the obstacle between them, Cassian could already imagine what would happen now.

He would not force Marian.

He wouldn’t need to.

He would simply wait.

He would be there when she needed someone.

He would offer comfort.

He would become the person closest to her when everyone else had accepted Cassian’s death.

And slowly, perhaps, he would eliminate every other possibility until there was no one left for her to choose but him.

They had been engaged for eighteen years.

Adrian had known her almost her entire life.

That alone put him at an advantage Cassian could hardly overcome even when he was alive.

Now?

Cassian was gone.

To Marian, he was dead.

She would have no reason to suspect Adrian.

Why would she?

Even Cassian would never have suspected him if he had not been the one lying there, watching the men sent to kill him.

His jaw tightened.

He tried not to think about it.

He didn’t know what Adrian was saying to her now.

He didn’t know whether he had already gone to her.

Whether he was comforting her.

Whether he was quietly positioning himself beside her.

Whether he had already begun persuading her that a life without Cassian did not have to mean a life alone.

Cassian hated how easily he could imagine it.

Yet for all that, he did not believe Adrian would ever hurt Marian.

Whatever else Adrian was capable of, he loved her.

Cassian believed that much.

And perhaps that was what made it easier for him to imagine Adrian eventually marrying her.

Not through force.

Never that.

Adrian would simply make himself the only choice left.

Cassian closed his eyes.

He wished he knew what was happening.

He wished he could see her.

He hoped she was all right.

He hoped she wasn’t crying for him every day.

Perhaps she had waited.

Perhaps she was still waiting.

But perhaps, by the time Cassian was free, Marian would have moved on with her life.

Perhaps she would already be married.

Most likely to Adrian.

He was the Emperor now, after all.

The thought hurt more than he expected.

He hoped she would wait.

But he could not ask her to.

Not when he had no idea whether he would survive another month, let alone three years.

His dukedom could wait.

Everything else could wait.

Marian could not.

He wanted to see her again.

More than anything, he wanted to go home.

But wanting it would not get him there.

Survival would.

Cassian looked toward the training yard.

Three years.

He had survived five months already.

He would survive the rest.

--

The following morning, the six were called to the center of the training yard.

They arrived together.

For once, the yard seemed unusually quiet.

The other fighters had been kept at a distance. Some watched from beside the weapons racks. Others leaned against the walls, speaking quietly among themselves.

Cassian noticed the difference immediately.

Everyone seemed to know something the six of them did not.

The head instructor stood waiting.

He looked over each of them before speaking.

Cassian understood only fragments.

Arena.

Today.

Fight.

Opponent.

The words were familiar now, but he still couldn’t follow the meaning behind them.

Robert stood beside him, listening carefully.

The instructor continued.

His voice was measured, almost formal.

When he finally stopped, Robert turned toward the six.

"He’s explaining how this works."

One of the men shifted uneasily.

Robert continued.

"We’re entering the Arena today."

Cassian already knew that.

"What else?"

Robert listened again.

"Our first match is an introduction."

Cassian frowned.

"Introduction?"

"That’s what he called it."

The instructor resumed speaking.

Robert listened.

"Each of us will be given one opponent."

Cassian glanced toward the Arena gates.

"An experienced fighter?"

Robert shook his head.

"No."

He hesitated.

"Condemned men."

Silence settled among the six.

Cassian looked at him.

"Condemned?"

Robert nodded.

"Men already sentenced to death."

One of the other newcomers asked something.

Robert answered him briefly before turning back to Cassian.

"Most of them are murderers. Killers. Violent criminals."

The instructor continued.

Robert listened.

"They’re not helpless."

Cassian’s eyes narrowed.

"What does that mean?"

"They can fight."

The instructor gestured toward the weapons racks.

Robert followed the movement.

"Some have fought before. Some have killed before."

Cassian looked toward the Arena gates.

"So we’re fighting men who already know how to kill."

Robert nodded.

"Exactly."

The instructor’s voice hardened.

Robert listened more carefully.

"They will be given weapons."

A pause.

"They know what is at stake."

Cassian’s expression remained still.

"And what is at stake?"

Robert looked at him.

"Their lives."

Cassian waited.

Robert continued.

"They’ve been sentenced to death."

He glanced toward the six.

"Today, they’re given one final chance."

Cassian’s eyes narrowed.

"To live?"

Robert nodded.

"If they kill us, they live."

That changed the atmosphere immediately.

One of the six swore under his breath.

Another looked toward the gates.

The instructor continued speaking.

Robert listened.

"If one of us dies, the condemned man takes his place."

Cassian looked at him.

"What do you mean?"

Robert translated carefully.

"The Arena has invested three months in us."

He gestured toward the training yard.

"The training. The food. The weapons. The instructors."

A pause.

"If we die today, that investment was wasted."

Cassian’s gaze moved across the yard.

Robert continued.

"The condemned fighter becomes the one they keep."

Cassian understood.

They weren’t being given an easy first opponent.

They were being given a test designed to determine whether the Arena had chosen correctly.

The instructor spoke again.

His tone became colder.

Robert listened.

"They gave us three months to learn."

Robert continued.

"Now we’re expected to use what we learned."

Cassian said nothing.

There would be no elimination course.

No hourglass.

No traps.

No dozens of men fighting to survive the same obstacle.

Just two men.

Two weapons.

One of them leaving alive.

The instructor continued.

Robert listened carefully.

"The Arena will provide the weapons."

Cassian’s eyes shifted toward the gates.

"You choose your own."

Robert nodded.

"Whatever you’re trained to use."

Cassian glanced toward the weapon racks behind them.

Swords.

Spears.

Axes.

He had trained with all of them during the past three months.

But his attention returned to the gates.

The instructor continued.

Robert translated.

"Once the match begins, there will be no substitutions."

Cassian nodded.

"And the fight?"

Robert listened again.

"It ends when one man can no longer continue."

A pause.

"If he falls and cannot rise, the match is over."

Cassian waited.

"And if he gets back up?"

Robert looked at him.

"Then you keep fighting."

Cassian understood.

There would be no one stepping in simply because a man had been wounded.

No instructor calling a halt.

No training partner lowering his weapon.

The condemned men would fight until they could no longer fight.

And the six of them would do the same.

The instructor gave them one final warning.

Robert listened.

"He says not to expect mercy."

Cassian’s expression didn’t change.

He hadn’t expected it.

The condemned men had been sentenced to die.

Today, they had been given one final chance to live.

And that chance stood directly opposite them.

The instructor stepped aside.

The guards moved forward.

"Come."

Robert translated.

The six followed.

They left the training yard through a side gate and entered a long stone corridor.

The familiar sounds of the training grounds gradually disappeared behind them.

Their footsteps echoed against the walls.

No one spoke.

Cassian walked near the middle of the group, surrounded by guards.

He watched the corridors as they passed.

They were deeper inside the compound now.

Then they reached another set of doors.

These were larger.

Reinforced with iron.

Two guards stood on either side.

One unlocked them.

Beyond was another corridor.

It sloped gradually upward.

The sound reached them first.

A low rumble.

Voices.

Thousands of them.

The crowd.

Cassian slowed without meaning to.

He had heard that sound before.

He knew what waited beyond those walls.

He knew why the people were gathering.

He knew what they had come to watch.

The guards continued forward.

The six followed.

The corridor grew brighter as they approached the end.

Sunlight spilled across the stone floor ahead.

Cassian could hear the crowd more clearly now.

Shouting.

Laughter.

The distant voice of an announcer.

The sound grew louder with every step.

One of the newcomers swallowed hard.

Another rolled his shoulders.

Robert glanced toward Cassian.

Neither spoke.

They reached the final passage.

At the end stood a pair of enormous wooden doors.

Cassian stopped several paces away.

Beyond those doors was the Arena.

His first real duel.

A real weapon.

A real opponent.

And only one of them would leave standing.

The guards moved past them.

One placed a hand against the door.

Cassian tightened his fingers.

The door remained closed.

For another moment, they waited.

Listening to the roar beyond it.

Waiting for their turn.

–

Tbc