The Arena

On the Inside

A small cell was what Isabella was placed in. Three grey stone walls, one barred wall with a break in the metal for the door and a gap in the opposite stone wall for a barred window. The window was too high for her to see anything out of it but Isabella did not mind, this was what she got for striking out at a noble born. Granted she did not know he was noble born but at least he could not get to her in there. This was more a break away from James Onid than it was a punishment. Being on the inside was something Isabella dreamt about, the guards giving her tours and the fighters giving her a warm welcome. Gentlemen with a persona in the arena were what she was expecting. The sun was setting as Warden Markus showed Isabella through the front gates of the Arena, her heart raced as she walked through with excitement. Scared was not the right word to describe her feelings as she looked at every inch of everything she passed. Taking it all in, every brick, stone and plant, Isabella made sure she was familiar with every part of the inside of the arena, the parts that no one outside ever got to see. Many times had she longed to be on the other side of that balustrade, to see what it looked like to see all those faces cheering down at her. Except the Warden had made a point of telling her she was only there to lend a helping hand where needed. Apparently the guards were beginning to ask for extra money for the extra work and he did not have the money to pay them extra or hire any help.

"Why not ask for volunteers?" Isabella asked as he showed her into the cell.

"No one would do this sort of thing without pay." The warden had said before he passed her a bag. She had waited for him to leave to inspect the bag. Once she did she was happy to see changes of clothes in there for herself. One thing that really had Isabella's heart racing was where her cell was located, between the gates that lead to the guards' station and the fighters. Warden Markus had told her that these cells were used years ago for the minor offenders who did services while serving their time in the arena.

Sunlight shone through the bared gap between the stone that Isabella decided to call her window, casting light over her face in a warm embrace. For a moment Isabella had a small thought that she was at home, warm in her bed, until a strange clanging sound echoed in her room. This was not the sound of the blacksmith hammer on the anvil. Opening her eyes and blinking a few times, Isabella looked around the cell until she spotted the creator of the noise. A guard stood at the cell door, holding it open against the stone wall.

"Rise and shine sweet heart." The guard said as he smirked in at her. After a quick adjustment to the dress, Isabella stood up and looked to the guard. He was as tall as the warden but a lot younger, he looked to be a few years older than her with his blonde hair and hazel eyes with the handsome face smirking at her.

"The warden says your first order is to clean weapons." He stood aside and gestured out of the cell. Without further words or minimal chit chat, the guard opened the cell to the fighters' area and she stepped forward, hoping to get a glimpse of Lukas or perhaps even Fry. Shoulders slumping at the empty cells, she walked past the cells, out into a hall way that lead left and right and turned right. The walk way leads to a large circular room with bench seats flush to the walls. The large gate sat closed but Isabella knew that gate lead out into the arena where she could hear the aggravated grunts and cries from where the fighters were training. Off to one side a small door sat open, welcoming the woman to venture further. The guard led her through the small storage room where shelves lined the walls covered with weapons and armor, out to a small barred off area. The abstractly shaped area looked out at the arena where the fighters were training but from where Isabella stood she could not see past the stone wall. The wall beside her attached to the building behind her and stopped suddenly, continued by more metal bars that lead to the Arena outer walls. After dropping a bucket of water and cloth beside the pile of various weapons and shields, the guard told Isabella to get to work. The sound of wooden sparring swords, spears and shields clanging against each other, flesh and the sandy arena floor carried over to Isabella racing her heart with excitement. The occasional laugh and shout was heard over the clanging and bashing but Isabella could not make out who was saying what. For years she had longed for a conversation with her idol Lukas, she had no idea what she would say or could say to him but she just wanted to stand close while she admired his skill in the arena. The metal work on the weapons before Isabella were the old make of her father, either mistakes or old weapons donated to the arena after they had gone past their use at the barracks. Copper smelling blood mixed with grainy sand caked onto the weapons and shield, gradually falling away with each wipe from the drenched cloth Isabella used. The guard stood at the bars, looking out at the training fighters with a slight smirk on his lips.

"How did you end up in this mess?" The guard asked looking down to her from where he stood. The sun shining off of his hair, he leant on a bar and watched her carefully.

"I punched James Onid." Isabella replied, looking up at him for a moment to see the smile spread across his face before he threw his head back and laughed. No doubt his outburst of humor would have gotten a few fighters attention but Isabella could not see them to confirm it.

"I bet he took it like a girl." The guard said once he calmed down, still grinning wide. Isabella smiled and looked down to what she was doing.

"Actually he fell back and cut his hand on a sword as he landed."

"Sword?"

"It happened in the blacksmith work shop." Isabella explained.

"What were you doing in a blacksmith work shop?" The guard asked pushing from the bars and stepping over.

"It is my father's shop. Smith Edmund."

"Smith Edmund is your father?" The guard laughed once more, this time less humorous.

"John." Warden Markus said from behind Isabella, causing her to jump and turn to him. The guard stopped laughing and stood straight to his name being spoken so sternly.

"Check the cell locks." Markus said not giving him a second glance. Once John, the guard left Markus stood where the guard once did and looked over at his fighters.

"Do not let John get too close." He looked over his shoulder to Isabella. She had a small pile growing of swords she had already managed to scrub clean.

"Why is that?" She asked, not looking up to him.

"He is the reason I do not have females working here." He spoke as he watched her scrub at the blood stained shield. The smell of blood was more prominent now she had brought it up from the sand but Isabella was already used to it, while the warden had become accustom to the smell long before his youth was over.

"What happened?" Isabella asked looking up for a moment.

"We had a female group who would clean up after the fighters." Markus looked back to his fighters, his eyes looking slightly glossy in the light. "However I would leave for business at the courthouse one night and expected my guards to escort the women to the front gate. Instead John had convinced his fellow guards to attack the women." The warden paused for a moment, no longer watching his fighters or Isabella. His eyes had gone distant as he looked at the empty space before him. "I returned to the arena in the morning to find blood everywhere. None of the females would return after that and the only way I knew exactly what happened was because one of my fighters told me what he heard."

"Why were they not trialed?" Isabella asked, paused in her cleaning.

"Proof, my dear." Markus said looking down to her. "Judges rely on it, without it there will be no trial. I chose you because you can hold your ground."