Gull walked into the hot arena. Men cheered and shouted at her from the stands above and the huge room was hot with the torchfires and so many pressed bodies. She stood and looked at the other door into the arena as men closed her one behind her. She had no weapons, they weren’t allowed weapons, the men liked it more that way. She didn’t particularly care, she didn’t care about a lot of things any more.

She idly wondered who she’d be facing today. She’d fought small women and tall women and fast women and strong women. She’d fought silent women with dead eyes. She’d fought loud women who screamed and hissed. She’d fought women who wore little and cheered with the crowd, and she’d fought women who wore nothing at all. The men seemed to like them the most.

Gull wasn’t small, she wasn’t tall either, she wasn’t silent, she wasn’t loud, she didn’t laugh and cheer or try to interact with the crowd. She had no tricks, no gimmicks, no memorable features. But she always won. So they remembered her.

The door opened and out walked the tallest women Gull had ever seen. She was from some far off land and wore far off clothes. Her long black hair was tied back in a huge thick braid strewn with coloured stones and her arms bulged with muscle and strength. As she walked in the crowd cheered and Gull felt the heat of the room on her face. She didn’t feel fear, she never felt fear, not for a long time.

The gamesmaster called out the start of the match in his big booming voice. Gull ignored most of it but she heard her name and she heard her opponent’s name. Hathra. She always learnt their names, and she remembered all of them. That had been important to her, once.

The gamesmaster finished and Hathra lunged. She was big and she was fast and she crossed the arena easily throwing her huge hands toward Gull. Gull moved too, she leapt forward and struck at Hathra’s throat. She was fast but Hathra was faster. The huge hands grabbed her arms and before she could twist away she was shoved backward and there was a foot for her to trip over. She crashed to the ground and Hathra was on top of her, already twisting her into some new position where she had less control, less leverage. Gull wouldn’t go without a fight though. Fighting was all she was good at. She brought her legs up into Hathra’s stomach and shoved, stretching out as best she could. Hathra faltered and she twisted free then kicked her in the face with her booted foot. As Hathra stumbled back Gull stood up again and backed away. This woman was dangerous, she’d have to be careful.

Hathra seemed to be pausing too, she was hanging back, watching carefully. The two of them slowly circled each other while the crowd cheered.

Then there was a horrible screech and another gate opened in the arena. Gull spun around to look and saw a great black cat make its way out eyeing her hungrily. It had been kept caged and been tortured and starved and now it was ravenous. As she looked she felt movement behind her and then Hathra’s huge arm wrapped around her throat. Instinctively she lashed out and found her eye. It exploded beneath her thumb and Hathra staggered back, howling in pain. Then the cat leapt and Gull found herself flung to the ground once again. Huge claws rent her arm and side and she narrowly managed to ward off the slavering jaws and throw the cat off her. It was young and small for its kind. They didn’t put the big ones in with the humans, when they did that they tended to run out humans.

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But then the cat was back and Gull had barely stood back up again, blood thick on her left side. This time she didn’t fall over and managed to catch the cat’s paw and fling it away, rending her other hand open and spraying blood everywhere.

This time the cat didn’t return, instead circling around her while Hathra, clutching her ruined eye, circled the other side. Blood poured from her wounds and she felt her heart pumping it out, down onto the sand.

Then she ran at the cat. She couldn’t catch it of course, she never caught them. But she scared them. It ran away and went back to circling somewhere else. She spun back to Hathra who was staring back at her with her one good eye.

The crowd cheered, she better do something soon before they released another cat, or something even worse. So she charged at Hathra. Hathra took away her hand, letting blood pour from her eye, and lunged forward, but Gull was too fast this time. She ducked around the hands and then struck at the throat, then the face by that ruined eye. Hathra stumbled and crashed to the ground, reeling in pain. The cat saw its chance and, ignoring Gull, lunged at the fallen Hathra who was on all fours with her head down and the back of her neck open to the sky.

Gull knew she’d won. She always won. That was who she was and who she would always be. She almost turned away so as not to watch the cat feed. But she didn’t turn away.

As the cat lunged Hathra’s head jerked up and she got her feet under her and with her huge hands grabbed the cat. In her arms it looked like just a large house cat. It struggled and flailed and fear flashed in its eyes but Hathra didn’t let go. Instead she raised it up and threw it. Threw it high and far and out of the arena. Into the stands.

The cheering turned to screams as the men ran and the cat, now free to run, ran with them. Hathra turned back to Gull and spoke in a language she didn’t understand, then she gestured at the stands where the cat terrorised the men and crouched to offer a leg up. To offer freedom and a chance to escape.

Gull looked at her. Did she want a chance to escape? She walked forward because she didn’t know what else to do. She put her foot in Hathra’s hands because she didn’t know what else to do. She jumped up and pulled herself out of the arena because she didn’t know what else to do. Then she turned back to Hathra who was holding her hand up to be pulled to freedom and she knew what to do.

She took the huge hand in her own bloody one and pulled and Hathra pulled herself up and then grabbed onto the edge of the wall and began to pull herself up. Began to pull her way to freedom. The door was open as men rushed through it and cool air blew over Gull’s face, she hadn’t felt that in a long time, not since she’d started winning, not since she’d become who she was now. Who she would always be.

Hathra pulled herself up and as she climbed over the edge of the wall Gull shoved her and jumped. She landed on Hathra who landed on her back. There was a crack as Hathra’s back snapped and she whimpered in pain. Then Gull spun her over and took her huge braid in her hands and smashed her head against the hard ground. Then she did it again, and again, and again, until Hathra stopped struggling. Dead at the hand of the Gull like so many before her.

Then she stood up. By then the screaming had stopped. The cat had escaped but the men had returned, with their whips and weapons and words. And she followed the whips and she followed the words and she went back to her entrance and back to her cage and used the few medicines and stitches she had to put herself back together again. Hathra, her name had been Hathra. It was important to remember that. It had once been important to remember that.