Caged Birds Fight, Too

The chains rattled softly in her ear like a million high pitched voices.  Her own voice joined in, shaming even the birds in the trees.  She had earned her name: Lyra the Songbird.  The man leading her shook her roughly, but her song never stopped.  Even when they chained her in the center of the town she sang.  “Her loyalty is unshakable.”  A Roman soldier commented to his general.  The general huffed softly.  “Unshakable or misplaced?  The Greek sings of her gods, but what have ours done for us in so long?”

                The soldier frowned.  “The people still pray to them.”

                His general narrowed his eyes.  “The foolish and desperate still do.”  The soldier didn’t reply, he couldn’t argue much.  Even he no longer turned to his gods.  “She’s a brave one.”  The soldier turned his eyes to his general’s amused face.  “She ran from her Roman keepers because she claims her father told her the gods are in trouble.”

                The soldier turned his eyes to the blond girl who sang a beautiful warning.  Her blue eyes shone with the deep intensity of a truth she believed in her very soul.  “Does she claim her father a prophet?”  He asked his General.

                The man scoffed.  “Must you ask?  She claims him to be the god Apollo.”  A trumpet blast cut off the soldier’s surprise.  Both men took a knee as their emperor approached.

                The emperor stopped before the chained girl.  Her voice never paused.  “You dare question the ability of our gods?”             

                Lyra turned her blue orbs to the emperor’s green ones.  “Gods you yourself have forsaken?”  It was the first time her song had paused since she was brought into the middle of the Roman city.

                Emperor Caius narrowed his eyes. “At first, I thought you brave, girl. Now I know that you’re just foolish.” He turned to the General. “Bacchus! Take her to the coliseum.” He ordered.

Bacchus blinked in shock. “The coliseum? She won’t survive-“

                Caius huffed. “If the gods are truly on her side, then she will be fine. If she kills a hundred men, she can have her freedom.” He decided.

                “Unchain her, Faustus.” Bacchus ordered. The soldier he was conversing with before nodded and removed Lyra’s chains.

                “Bacchus…You bare a name of Dionysus, but the post of Ares.” Lyra smiled in amusement. “And you’ve got your luck by your side.”

                Bacchus looked over at the Greek woman. “So the song bird can speak.” Lyra smirked softly. “She could always speak. But people only want to listen to a bird when she sings.”

                Faustus looked Lyra over. “That voice of yours is the purest I’ve heard, but how far do you think it alone will get you in the arena?”

                Lyra looked up at him. “It’s got you talking to me, doesn’t it?” A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. “My voice, I will give you, will be of no use to me in a battle, but it isn’t my only weapon.”

                Lyra watched as the coliseum grew to loom over her and her captors.  She knew very well that her final sight could be the crowded arena and the romans cheering on her demise. She was taken down into an area under the arena. “Her first fight is now.” Lyra rose her blue eyes to the voice of the Emperor’s guard.

                Faustus and Bacchus turned their eyes to their captive. She had run for three days before she was caught. Her eyes were tired and her feet were swollen from days of walking. “You get two weapons.” The guard informed.

                “A bow and arrows, and a sword.” Lyra decided without a moment’s hesitation. The guard looked at her for a moment and nodded. He brought her the weapons and lead her through a stone hallway and up to a gate. Strong sunlight poured in through the bars. Lyra could hear the sounds of the raucous crowd already in the stadium. The knowledge that they were there to watch her be slaughtered sickened her.

The gates opened noisily and she felt herself being shoved roughly into the arena.  Her eyes traveled into the large crowd as she stepped farther into the arena. She didn’t recognize any of the faces. They all looked hungry. Bloodthirsty. She shivered despite the hot weather. Her eyes fell on Faustus and Bacchus, sitting near the emperor, before her attention was drawn to the other side of the arena, where another gate was being opened.

A tall man stepped out into the arena. He did not need to be forced. Even from where she was, Lyra could tell this man had been fighting for his life for most of his life. Large, deep scars covered his exposed chest and arms. His dirty garb hung loosely from his waist. His long, dark hair was matted with dirt and sweat. A large sword was strapped tightly to his back. He was the one Ares would favor in this battle.

The man began walking towards the center of the arena where Lyra stood. He sneered at her as he approached. The closer he came, the more scars Lyra was able to see. He had a small, but rather deep one just above his left eye that she didn’t notice due to the more massive mutilations.

The man reached behind him and grabbed the hilt of his sword. The blade he withdrew from its sheath was nearly as thick as his arm and nearly as long. He had earned that weapon. It wasn’t a puny first kill sword like Lyra’s.

She took a few steps back and pulled her own blade. It was simple edge, a first assignment of a blacksmith’s apprentice.

He came for her and the crowd cheered. She deflected his blade and jumped from his way. Her breath was already coming heavily. He came after her again and she put her small blade up broadside front to block the edge of his. He pushed heavily onto her blade. She felt her arms shake a bit and her feet slide backwards in the sand. The roar of the crowd was deafening in her ears.

Her blade fell. He drew his back and slashed it forward into her chest. She pushed herself to the side and onto the ground. Her shoulder screamed in pain. She felt her warm blood pour down her chest and forearm. She watched his blade rise into the air. She watched the sun glint off of the blade as it came down into her chest.

Suddenly, a new strength filled her as the light reflected from the blade hit her body. She picked up her own sword and threw her weight into it, knocking his away. She scrambled gracelessly to her feet and leapt backwards. She couldn’t get far enough away from him to use her arrows. She should have used them when she had the chance.

He swung hard at her. She blocked him and slashed at his chest. One new scar. Her leg shot out and she caught his ankles. Her mind was a blur, her movements almost too fast even for her to comprehend. He blocked her blade with hers as she brought it down. He flicked his wrist and flung her blade to the side. Her hands stuck fast to the hilt and she spun with the direction of the blade before bringing it back down into his left arm. She felt his blood on her feet as she ripped her blade back out. The arm holding his sword was left immobile. Her breath tore into her lungs in large gasps. She saw his chest heaving as well.

She turned her eyes to Emperor Caius. His face was dark and emotionless. He held his fist and thumb out vertically and then turned to point his thumb upwards. Lyra squeezed her eyes shut and turned back to her victim. She didn’t want to do this. She brought her sword into his throat and finished him off.

The crowd stood to its feet and cheered. “Songbird! Songbird!” The nickname she’d been so proud of made her stomach churn and what little was in it threaten to leave her.

She was led by two soldiers back under the coliseum. “Keep that up,” A familiar voice reached her ears as she was lead to a cell in the back, “and you’ll make it out of here. It’s earned you food for tonight, at least.”

Lyra sat in the cell Faustus and Bacchus had led her to. Her father had saved her back there, but she knew she would have to rely on her own strength from then on. She knew also, that she couldn’t waste her time fighting for her freedom. She’d have to find a way to escape.