Chapter 411: Trial of Command

Kael did not move immediately, which seemed to concern the young gladiators gathered around him more than anything else. The chariots were already circling, the infantry was advancing, and dust had begun rising high enough to blur the far side of the arena. He stood watching while the others tightened their grips on their weapons.

His attention moved between the infantry’s spacing, the pace of their advance, and the angles taken by the chariots. Whenever one of the war machines passed close behind a line of soldiers, the formation widened slightly to accommodate it before closing again. From the center of the arena, the movement looked chaotic, but the soldiers clearly knew where everyone was supposed to be.

"Don’t move yet."

One of the young men shouted something Kael could not understand and pointed frantically toward the nearest chariot. Another joined him, apparently convinced that Kael had somehow failed to notice the horses dragging enormous blades around the battlefield. He raised one hand to quiet them without taking his eyes off the approaching soldiers.

"Yeah, I can see it."

The chariots were keeping to the outside for now. Charging directly into a group of thirteen people would risk trapping the horses among bodies and weapons, and even frightened fighters could become dangerous at that distance. Instead, the drivers maintained wide, fast circuits while the infantry approached from two opposing directions.

One block advanced from the north and another from the south, each moving slowly enough to preserve its formation. The open ground between them steadily narrowed, leaving the arena’s perimeter as the most obvious escape route. Kael followed that route with his eyes and found a chariot passing through it.

"There it is."

The infantry was squeezing them toward the middle while the chariots controlled the ground outside. Anyone who fled the approaching shields would run straight into the horses and bladed wheels. The soldiers did not have to chase anyone because their formation already determined where frightened opponents were likely to go.

Kael studied the long blades extending from the nearest chariot. They passed at roughly thigh and waist height, easily high enough to tear through several young gladiators during a single pass. He pointed toward the two infantry blocks, brought his hands together, then gestured toward the circling vehicles.

"They’re pinching us. The soldiers squeeze us toward the middle, and if anyone runs outside, those things cut them apart."

The oldest gladiator followed his gestures. His eyes moved from the approaching shields to the blades passing beyond them, and his face paled. Whatever words he had missed, he seemed to understand the important part.

It was a well-designed approach. The infantry only needed to maintain pressure, using shields and short stabbing swords to force the disorganized group backward. Sooner or later, someone would panic and run, giving the chariots their opening. Each person who fled would leave the others with less protection until the remaining fighters could be crushed between the two advancing blocks.

The whole thing looked very Roman. Kael almost smiled at the comparison before his attention returned to the twelve people standing beside him. One had attacked him with a sword, another with a hammer, and a third had tried to drive a spear into him. Several others had surrendered once they saw what happened to their companions.

All twelve were alive because he had chosen to leave them that way. The system had restored the same men after their defeat, healing injuries he had inflicted only minutes earlier. If he had slaughtered them instead, there probably would not have been anyone standing beside him now.

Kael looked from the young gladiators to the advancing soldiers, then toward the chariots circling beyond them. The system had never explained what sparing his opponents might change. It had simply remembered his decision and carried the result into the next round.

Had he killed all twelve, this would probably still have been the Trial of Command. He would have faced the same soldiers and the same chariots, except there would have been nobody left to command. A short laugh escaped him as he considered how easily that could have happened.

"That’s nasty."

The oldest gladiator glanced at him, plainly confused by the amusement. Kael shook his head and returned his attention to a chariot approaching along their flank. Whatever lesson the Tower had hidden in the previous round could wait until they survived this one.

"Nothing. Keep watching."

Several young men instinctively backed away as the vehicle drew closer. Kael snapped his fingers and pointed toward the center of their group, stopping most of them before they moved too far. One continued retreating until Kael caught the back of his leather armor and hauled him in.

"No. Stay."

The boy nearly fell, catching himself against another gladiator before staring up at Kael. Kael pointed firmly at the ground between them, then used both hands to wave the others inward. They hesitated before obeying, drawing close enough that he could begin putting them where he wanted them.

He worked with considerably more force than elegance. A hand on one shoulder turned a man around, another shove moved two closer together, and a grip on the back of a collar stopped someone from wandering out again. The young gladiators slowly began following his movements instead of fighting them.

"Backs together."

Kael pressed two of them into position to demonstrate. The oldest caught on first and shouted instructions to the others, allowing Kael to finish arranging them into a rough circle. It was neither neat nor particularly steady, but at least nobody had their back completely exposed.

"Eyes outside. Don’t chase anything."

His first gesture earned several nods as the young men turned their attention outward. The second instruction produced blank looks until he mimed running with two fingers, pointed toward a chariot, and sliced his other hand through the air. That seemed to settle any remaining interest in making a dash for the arena wall.

Fear remained, and the passing chariots made certain it stayed. One swept close enough for Kael to feel the pounding hooves through the dirt beneath his boots. Its wheel blades flashed past, causing several gladiators to flinch backward and one to stumble into the man behind him.

Another raised his axe as though preparing to throw it at the horses. Kael caught the weapon and pushed it down before the boy could release it. The gladiator stared at him, still gripping the handle with both hands.

"No. Don’t lose your weapon."

Kael pointed toward the horse, then toward the axe, and shook his head. Throwing away a weapon while provoking the animals was not an improvement on standing still. The young man followed the gestures with the anxious attention of someone beginning to suspect he had nearly made a serious mistake.

"Horse. Bad."

The boy nodded quickly and lowered the axe. Kael looked back toward the infantry, now perhaps fifty meters away, with shields held close and short swords waiting behind them. Their steady pace bothered him more than a charge would have. People confident enough to advance slowly usually had a reason.

A horn sounded, and one of the chariots veered inward. It still was not charging directly at the group, but its next circuit would pass closer than the last. Kael watched the driver handle the reins before noticing what the second man aboard was carrying.

"Ah shit, this makes things more complicated..."

The rider stood with his feet spread inside the chariot, keeping his balance despite its speed and the uneven ground. Beside him hung a long leather quiver containing several javelins. He pulled one free, shifted his grip, and turned his body toward the clustered gladiators.

"Down!"

Nobody understood in time. The javelin left the rider’s hand and crossed the open ground at an angle, heading straight for one of the young men. Kael caught the front of the boy’s leather vest and yanked him backward before the point reached him.

The weapon passed through the space where his chest had been and buried itself deep in the dirt. For a moment, the boy could only stare at the shaft standing out of the ground. Then he looked up at Kael, who pointed toward the departing chariot.

"Watch them."

Another javelin arrived from the opposite side before the group could settle. It struck a shield one of the gladiators had picked up earlier, driving him backward into the center of the circle. The shield held, but his arm nearly failed beneath the impact, drawing a sharp cry as Kael caught him and pushed him upright again.

The crowd cheered at the near collapse of their formation. Kael ignored it and looked between the chariots, finally seeing how the whole arrangement worked. The vehicles were doing far more than guarding the escape routes.

Their riders could attack from several directions while the horses kept them beyond reach. Every javelin forced the young gladiators to turn, duck, or stumble into someone else, making it harder to watch the approaching infantry. By the time those shields reached them, the soldiers expected to find a frightened group already struggling to hold together.

Against ordinary bandits, it would have been a slaughter. Against twelve poorly equipped young gladiators, it would be worse. Kael was still considering that when a third javelin came toward his head.

He tilted sideways, letting the point pass inches from his helmet. Air whistled beside his ear before the weapon struck the dirt behind him. Kael slowly turned toward the chariot responsible and found its rider looking back.

"This is starting to get on my nerves."

The man reached for another javelin without any apparent concern. Kael watched him draw it from the quiver, then glanced at the young men gathered around him. Their formation was tightening with every pass of the chariots, leaving them less room to move when the next weapon arrived.

"Okay."

Panic was beginning to undo what little order he had established. Heads turned after every thrown javelin, and several gladiators kept shifting their feet as though preparing to flee despite everything he had shown them. Beyond the circling vehicles, the infantry had come close enough for him to hear the steady rhythm of its advance.

Boots struck the dirt in time with one another while shield rims knocked together as the soldiers adjusted their spacing. Nobody broke into a run or pushed ahead of the others. They were approaching with the patience of men who believed the hardest part of the fight was already being done for them.

Kael looked around his own group. Most were smaller than the soldiers, all were poorly armored, and several could barely keep their hands steady on their weapons. Sending them straight into those shield walls would get them killed almost immediately.

That was fine. He had no intention of asking them to win a straight clash against trained infantry. The soldiers’ advantage depended on their formation, and the chariots were making certain his underlings would be in no condition to interfere with it.

"All right."

The oldest gladiator looked toward him. Kael pointed at the infantry, then closed his hand into a fist before gesturing around their own group. After that, he indicated the chariots and shook his head firmly.

"Stay together. Don’t chase."

The young man watched closely, then began speaking to the others. Kael waited until their attention returned to him before pointing at himself and then toward the circling vehicles. A smile formed beneath his helmet as they followed the gesture.

"I’ll deal with those."

Another javelin flew toward him, but this time Kael held his ground. His hand snapped up and closed around the shaft less than a foot from his face, stopping the weapon before it could pass. For half a second, even the crowd seemed to lose its voice.

Kael looked at the javelin, then toward the rider who had thrown it. The man stared back from the moving chariot while Kael rotated the shaft in his hand. Around him, the young gladiators looked from the captured weapon to the gauntlet holding it.

"Thanks."

He settled the shaft into his grip and turned his shoulder toward the chariot. Then he drew his arm back.