RED SOX: ...weep...
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Jaimy cuddled closer to the barbarian’s warmth. Some of the heat was fever driven but the injured woman was finally starting to sweat. Jaimy hoped the infection was beginning to break.
They sat separate from the others near the bars at the far end of the cell. The rest of the occupants were huddled together near the cage door. Wendell kindled a fire to life in a trash can about fifty feet from the bars. It provided some warmth to the shivering bodies huddled together against the cold, dark night.
Jaimy and the barbarian snatched a blanket and moved away from the group moments after they entered the space. They wanted time apart and alone. It was worth losing out on a few degrees of body heat to enjoy the comfort of each others arms.
“Won’t work,” the barbarian stated before nuzzling her cold nose against Jaimy’s neck.
Jaimy continued to stroke the barbarian’s sex as she replied, “Not fighting is as good a plan as we got.”
“Torture,” the barbarian responded.
Jaimy paused her actions as she considered the words.
“No. More. Please,” the barbarian whimpered. “Need to feel. Need you.”
“I’m right here,” Jaimy reassured. “Don’t worry, I’m not letting you get more than an arm’s length away from me for the rest of our lives. But, I hadn’t thought about them trying to torture anybody. I figured they’d just kill us outright if we didn’t fight. What do you think they’ll do to us? Starve us?”
The barbarian shrugged. “Don’t know. Tomorrow know.”
The whip cracked down against the ruined skin which had been reduced to a bloody pulp. The woman stretched out against the X frame had stopped crying out long before this hit. In fact, she had not moaned or moved in well over an hour.
“Two hundred and fifty,” Ned announced the count. “Flip her over and secure her. Don’t want her sliding off before we dispense the next two hundred and fifty.”
Several guards laughed. However, Wendell and his detachment of soldiers did not. They stood grim faced watching the punishment just as the slaves in the cages were watching.
“She’s dead, Wendell,” Jaimy, grasping the bars, hushed the words. “They can stop now. She can’t suffer no more for them.”
“Ain’t for her. This beating is for the rest of you.” Wendell turned to face Jaimy with a furrowed brow, “It was plain stupid not obeying the rules. When you hit the field you got to fight full force whatever is at the other end of the stadium. No wrestling or tagging or kick ball; hard hitting and maiming is all that will be tolerated. I know you’re an urbanite but you better figure this one thing out right quick; you will fight to the death. Every slave in this stadium is going to battle until there is only one team left alive. Preferably, only one member of one team should be left alive but a handful from the same team will be acceptable as well. So, get it through your head and then make the others understand.” His frowned deepened, “Otherwise, she’s only the first who’ll die an ugly death.”
Jaimy stared at the exasperated soldier. She could tell he didn’t like what he was explaining. He was repeating whatever he was told to say.
“It don’t have to be like that. We’d have a chance if only a few of you soldiers…,”
His baton hit the cage bars driving Jaimy back a foot or two. “Never suggest anything like that ever again. If you do then I will personally rip your tongue out of her mouth and stuff it down your barbarian’s throat. I hope you understand me!”
Jaimy nodded mutely. If the barbarian had not placed her hands on her trembling shoulders then Jaimy was quite sure she would have collapsed with fear. Wendell’s anger was boarding on insanity. Not one free person in New Roman seemed to possess any shred of humanity.
“It really is the end of the world,” Jaimy thought to herself and dropped her tear filled eyes to the ground beneath her feet as the guards continued to beat a dead slave just to make a point.
The barbarian raced directly for the opposing team’s end of the field as soon as the starting whistle sounded. She slammed bodily into a charging line of four or five hulking men. The gaggle of them toppled over in a heap of swinging arms and kicking legs.
Jaimy steam rolled directly behind the barbarian and used the tangle of bodies as her spring board for a front flip. She got good height which would shorten her distance but all she actually needed to do was distract the other team members not already struggling with the barbarian. While all eyes were on Jaimy’s acrobatics, her team mates raced down the sidelines. They were already within striking distance before the other team noticed their approach.
Jaimy planted a solid landing and swatted two players to the ground before the end of play whistle blew. She gazed down the length of the stadium and assessed the destruction. Bodies were strews across the field. Most belonged to the other side but several were her team mates. Blood wept from the gaping wounds and moans lifted from those still strong enough to give voice to their suffering.
Two from her own side trudged back up the field toward her. They were stooped shouldered but their gait was strong. Their clothing was soaked with blood and their faces were spattered from the spray of red. One man’s hand clutched the head of the leader for the opposing team. She realized with a jarring shock that they must have kicked the head loose. It was only then Jaimy actually heard the crowd in the stands roaring their approval of the carnage all around her.
“Fuck them,” Jaimy hissed.
She turned to try to find the barbarian. The woman was only a few feet away and walked toward her. The grin on her face lessened Jaimy’s concern for her wellbeing even with the amount of blood and bruises paint across her cheeks.
“Is good!” The barbarian announced.
Jaimy allowed her lover to grab her in a strong hug and spin her lightly. “Is good!” The barbarian said again and placed a small kiss on Jaimy’s lips.
“Is it?” Jaimy questioned unable to hide her bitterness.
The barbarian considered the question before answering. “Yes. Good. You and me and live. Them and them and dead. Is good.”
Jaimy closed her eyes trying to reign in her emotions. The noise of the crowd and the smell of the dead were like physical assaults on her. She could feel her knees buckling. The barbarian steadied her by pulling her closer.
“Hurt? You hurt?”
Jaimy shook her head before answering, “No, I’m just sick of the killing. I think I’m ready to get on with my dying.”
“Not soon. Die yes. Not soon yet.”
“Why not? Why not just let one of the other guys get in a lucky shot and go down? Why not let it be over?”
Jaimy continued to question even though the barbarian was leading them off the field. The barbarian began to chuckle which increased Jaimy’s agitation.
“What could possibly be funny?”
“You. Not fight? You? No.” The barbarian led Jaimy into their cell while patiently continuing her explanation, “Round 3 done. Fight. Round 4. Live. Fight. Round 5. Die. Round 5 is die.”
The barbarian settled into the usual spot near the back of the cage. Jaimy let herself be pulled into the woman’s waiting arms. The blanket was quickly wrapped around them. The barbarian inserted her fingers into Jaimy pussy and sighed.
“Is good. Wait die. Is good now,” the barbarian hushed in Jaimy’s ear. “Fuck ten. Maybe ten and ten more fuck. More fuck. Then die.”
Jaimy’s body was responding to her lover’s touch but she was not ready to give into the rationale yet. “You’re saying we should keep on fighting and killing just so we can screw around a few more times. You really are a barbarian.”
The barbarian laughed and stole a kiss from Jaimy. She took complete control of her mouth. She sucked the tongue piercings hard leaving Jaimy breathless. The barbarian’s eyes twinkled with joy.
“Barbarian good. Fuck good. Live good,” the barbarian explained. “Dead soon enough. Dead for very, very, very long time. Live good at live time. Die good at die time.”
Jaimy relaxed her exhausted body against the barbarian. She allowed the woman to continue her exploration of Jaimy’s sex and mouth and breasts. Soon the barbarian would flip her over and take her ass as well. Jaimy’s cheeks flushed with both excitement and shame when she realized she was looking forward most to that part of their romp.
“When is dying time exactly?” Jaimy asked seconds before the barbarian shoved a fist into her snatch.
The barbarian smirked and answered, “When barbarian say. Then barbarian kill pig. Then barbarian kill barbarian.”
“Is good,” Jaimy breathed as her orgasm overtook her and forced all reasonable thought from her mind.
The scene on the field was chaos. Three teams were in play. They were unequal in all the ways that counted. One was unarmed, one was armed and the other was on horseback. Team members were separated almost instantly because of the pyramid alignment of the sides.
Weaker men and women were left running and screaming for their very lives. There was just nowhere to run and nobody hearing their screams cared about their lives. The crowd was clamoring for death. People of means filled the stands demanding blood and spectacle. The Senators they supported were providing just that; an orgy of gore.
Jaimy drove her short sword deep into the chest of an unarmed man. She tried not to care when he screamed in agony. She refused to flinch when blood erupted from his mouth in a torrent of red. And, she did not grimace when she kicked his still twitching body off her blade.
Sensing movement behind her, Jaimy lifted the sword to shoulder height and spun. A woman’s head flew into the air leaving her body to crumble to the blood soaked dirt before Jaimy finished a full arch of movement.
A flurry of action to the left caught her attention. She saw a wall of a man knock Atticus to the ground with a kick to the jaw. The boy’s sword landed several feet away. Instead of chasing the blade, the wall of a man pounced on the boy. He pulled the rag doll like body up and slammed a fist into Atticus’ belly.
“Leave him be!” Jaimy shrieked and ran at the man preparing to level another hit to the limp boy in his hands.
The force of the blow tossed Atticus backwards into a heap at the man’s feet. The man kicked the unresisting form several times. His chuckling burned deep in Jaimy’s ears. She heard it clearly above the din of battle around her. She was certain she heard him laughing above her own voice crying out.
“Fucker!”
Jaimy’s sword connected with the man as he turned toward her. It was a hacking downward thrust which edged between his nose and right eye. A solid crack shivered into the weapon’s pommel as the skull shattered. A blood spray showered Jaimy but still she pushed down on the blade as the man dropped to his knees. When he fell over dead the sword was torn out of her hands from the shear weight of his corpse.
“Atticus!” Jaimy screamed at the unmoving body.
She scrambled over to him. Her head told her it was foolish to ignore the fighting surrounding her. There was nothing she could do for Atticus. Jaimy was a seasoned fighter. She knew what death looked like. It looked like Atticus did now; broken and pale and motionless. But, her heart did not want to acknowledge the fact of his life; it was over.
“Boy, wake up! No slackin’ around. No time for resting. Get your butt off the ground. Let’s go!” Jaimy cradled his lolling head as she rattled directives.
“He gone. Not you. Not yet,” the barbarian grabbed Jaimy by the hair and tugged her to her feet.
Jaimy struggled to get free. She lost her hold on Atticus and his body dropped in a lifeless pile.
“NO!”
The barbarian ignored her scream. She dragged Jaimy over to Atticus’ sword and scooped it up. She shoved it into Jaimy’s hand and forced her fist closed around the grip.
“You fight! You live. Barbarian live. Die sooner but later.”
The barbarian spun Jaimy around. They fought off advancing attacks with a previously unpracticed back to back stance. Together they defended themselves well. Orr and survivors from his rag tag team hurried over to stand shoulder to shoulder with the women.
It did not take long for other fighters to join with them instead of against them. Their defensive line grew wide driving a retreat of sorts. Former opponents broke ranks and melted into their advance. The men and women on horseback dismounted in order to show their allegiance with the growing rank of unity.
Jaimy spotted Senator Goode seated next to Fitzgibbon in the stands. She snarled at the pair. Before she thought the action through, Jaimy began to race directly for them. She heard the barbarian’s voice but in her blind fury, she could not comprehend the words.
“STAND DOWN!” A voice boomed over the loudspeakers.
Jaimy was grabbed and pulled to a stop. The barbarian dragged her back. She allowed the woman to guide her.
“Open cages. More. better. Free. Then die,” the barbarian quickly detailed her thoughts.
Jaimy shouted the plan to the fighters standing behind her. “Open the cells! Everybody on the field! One chance. This is the only shot we get for ourselves!”
Pandemonium erupted on the field and in the stands. Pent up slaves were released and they flooded the grounds. Soldiers likewise raced into the stadium. The crowd in the stand was reduced to battling for the exits. They understood their lives depended on getting away from the rabid and loosed slaves. The knowledge sent them running and screaming.
The heavily armed soldiers deployed into a perimeter around the field. They easily surrounded the unorganized slaves. Regimented training allowed them to quickly get their guns and rifles cocked and aimed at the ramble. Jaimy grinned. It would all end very soon. She looked to her barbarian. The woman was smiling as well.
“Die now?” Jaimy asked.
“Is good.”
“Together then,” Jaimy whispered.
The barbarian turned to her and placed a soft kiss on her warm lips. Gun fire erupted but the pair clung to each other and held fast in the spot marking their defiance. A full scale riot exploded but Jaimy and the barbarian ignored the carnage.
“On three?”
“Is good.”
“One.”
Jaimy began the count without fear. She realized it was the only time since her capture she was truly unafraid.
“Two.”
They crossed swords and grasped hands. The points of the blades rested heavily on their breasts. Droplets of blood ran from the punctures into the tender flesh.
“Three.”
Each woman pushed forward onto the poised sword tips. Neither could find the courage to thrust into the other. They collapsed forward catching each other by the shoulders and sank as one to their knees. The swords remained midway in and out of their chests.
“Die now,” the barbarian choked out as her eyes rolled backward.
Jaimy’s eyes closed as she breathed her last, “Is good.”