THE GLADIATOR by Sean O'Kane Page B

betrayed again. She was at the summit of the pass and in the moonlight could survey the land ahead. The copper-haired woman had lied; there was no village, no road to a town. Ahead of her the land fell away in a series of gently undulating hills until it met the sea. She was on an island. She had turned in a full circle when she first reached the summit and everywhere she looked the sea surrounded her.
    For the first few minutes after she had made this discovery, dismay, shock, bewilderment and rage had sent her thoughts into a hopeless whirl. But now she was beginning to think clearly again. There was no point in harbouring thoughts of revenge on the woman, she just had to deal with the reality of her present plight. And what it all boiled down to was that she loved being wha t she was; but as long as Conor Brien was her real owner, she didn’t want to be where she was.
    Time passed and the pre-dawn breeze began to play in her hair, teasing strands across her face and making her irritably flick them back. But slowly she began to see a way forwards. It would be a hard and painful road but it would solve her problem. Inevitably it would involve letting Carlo and her owners do their worst with her, she would be tested like never before. But there was no way round it and hadn’t she always enjoyed being tested, always sought out thrills, taken risks? And once she had been brought here she had discovered that it had all been a sublimation of her deepest desire; to be mastered, taken to the farthest limits of pain and pleasure and thrust willy-nilly into ever harder tests and challenges.
    Tara stood up. All the self-doubt, shame and fury of the previous days had evaporated, she had a plan now. In the dark she grinned fiercely, Carlo would be leading the search for her by now, and island or no island, she would give him a run for his money. He would expect no less. She set off, running downhill towards the dawn of a new day.
    In the grey light of early morning, she avoided two patrols of mounted guards by hiding behind the low scrub which was all the harsh landscape offered in the way of cover. But the ground was hard and she knew she was leaving little in the way of footprints. By the time the sun was fully up, she had reached the sea. It was as far as she could go, so she sat on some rocks and waited to be found. After an hour or so, she saw a horse trot round a headland away to her right and come towards her along the beach. She held her breath and hoped the rider wasn’t Conor or the man she had thought, until so recently, was her owner. She was in no doubt that she would have to face them sooner or later, but she would rather it was later. Her plan would need all her courage and resolution; maybe if it was Carlo who found her, his initial, inevitable punishment would prepare her for the worse ones which would surely come. Between gladiator and trainer there was a bond. A cruel one, but a very real one.
    Tara breathed out in relief as the figure on the horse came into focus; it was Carlo’s squat, muscular physique. She stood up and climbed down from where she had been sitting as he approached. He dismounted and they faced each other.
    “Knew you’d make it this far, Blondie,” he said. “But I put the others to covering inland just in case.” He shook his head in puzzlement. “Why’d you do it? Why’d you let that bitch set you up? She got clean away and left you to take her punishment. You know as well as I do you love everything I do with you. And now you make me look bad. People will say, ‘That Carlo, he’s too soft on his slaves’ and I’m going to have to prove I’m not. That means I’m going to have to prove it on you, Blondie.”
    Tara nodded. She knew full well. And she couldn’t tell him the real reason why she had been so easy to set up.
    “Still, you’re one tough girl. That’s the good news. The bad news is you’re going to need to be!” He took a whip from the belt of his shorts and threw