Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

so seriously."
    "And we have had enough of seriousness," said David. "I think we've earned the right to be entirely frivolous for a while. Nothing to do, no demands, no duties. Just get up when we want, do what we wish, and play to our hearts'
    content. Like being a kid again."
    "I wouldn't know," said Kit. "I never had a childhood. I was raised to be a fighter and a warrior practically from the moment I could walk. I had a dirk instead of a rattle. Dueling partners instead of friends. I had to be as good a swordsman as my famous father and illustrious grandfather, whether I wanted to or not. As it turned out, I was better than either of them. And weren't they surprised when I proved it by killing them both. I enjoyed that. Making them suffer as they'd made me suffer all my life. I was never allowed a childhood, you see. There was no time for frivolous things like play or fun or laughter.

    Only the endless training and discipline, to shape me for a destiny I never wanted."
    "You're starting to sound like my cousin Owen," said David, keeping his voice carefully light. Kit had never opened up so much to him before, and he didn't want to discourage Kit by letting him see how much he was moved.
    "Hardly," said Kit. "I used their training to make something of myself. And if I don't always like what I've made, well, that's life for you.
    "I'm glad you brought me here, David. I feel… free, here. Free from everyone else's expectations of who and what I have to be. It's not easy being Kid Death all the time, you know. There are no pressures here, to do the only thing I've ever been any good at. I suppose that's what childhood is, for other people. I'd like a chance to be a child, at last."
    "You got it," said David. "To hell with Lionstone and the underground; it's party time! We can be ourselves here, Kit. No Deathstalker and SummerIsle, no scions of an ancient line, no boosted man or Kid Death; just two friends, free at last."
    "It won't last," said Kit. "You know it can't."
    "It can if we want it to," said David. "We don't ever have to leave here, if we don't want to. Do you really miss anything from Golgotha?"
    "I still kind of miss the Arenas," said Kit. "The roar of the crowd, the smell of fresh blood on the sands. The clash of steel on steel, and the joy in your heart as an enemy dies at your hand. The sheer seductiveness of testing your skill in the only way that really matters, when your very life is on the line."
    "They never liked us," said David. "The crowds. They didn't like the idea that we might be fighting for our own amusement, rather than theirs. And anyway, we'd
    done all there was to be done in the Arenas."
    "Not quite everything," said Kit. "I never did get a chance to face the Masked Gladiator."
    "File it under unfinished business," said David.
    "I could have beaten him."
    "Yeah, you probably could, if his managers had ever let you get anywhere near him, which I doubt. There's got to be a lot of money, not to mention honor, tied up in being the undefeated champion of the Arenas. He was getting very cautious about who he went up against, at the end."
    Kit shrugged. David hoped he'd let the matter drop. Though he'd never admitted it to Kit, David had been glad to leave the Arenas. He hadn't liked what they were doing to him. He'd always been good in a fight, and taken an honest pride in it, but out on the bloody sands before a roaring crowd, he'd discovered in himself a dark joy and satisfaction in the act of slaughter that disturbed him greatly. It didn't fit in with the image he'd always had of himself, of the kind of man he wanted to be, and it frightened him. Much as he cared for Kit, he didn't want to become another Kid Death. So he ran away to Virimonde, first chance he got, to try being another kind of man, steeped in peace and the quieter pleasures. And maybe Kit could find a kind of peace here, too, away from the dark needs that drove him.
    "Thank you," Kit said suddenly. "For bringing me here. For being my friend. I know it's not easy. I don't always know what to do with a friend. I don't have the experience. For as long as I can remember, there's only ever been me. All I knew was how to kill. No one ever liked me, or trusted me, even when they used me to get them what they couldn't get themselves. I never had a friend before you, David. I was never really alive, until you taught me how to live."

    David reached out and clapped a hand on Kit's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "It's too