Calliope had been in some tight places before, there had been that boarding action of Remus, the gallows in Marienburg, and that night in the Drakwald that still woke her up in cold sweats, but this was the worst she could remember. Her face throbbed where the door had struck her, and her ribs ached from the subsequent booting she had taken from the Mamluks, the sword in her hand was crude and poorly balanced. She would have been dead already if it wasn't for the slave she has seen earlier with the Sultan. He was doing his best to grip the beast as it snapped alternately at his face and the chains he had around its neck, its feline spine pivoted and the slave had to twist to match it to avoid its raking claws. A second cat leaped at her and she flung  herself sideways, rolling across the dirt and stone floor to the cheers of unseen prisoners. Another one lunged at her, jaws wide and yellowed fangs flashing in the torch light. Calliope kicked it hard in the snot, her boot snapping the jaws shut, she used the momentum to spin towards the fourth cat. It was clumsy to use the edge, Old Heinrick would be ashamed of her, assuming he hadn't drunk himself to death yet. The edge was for cutting, the point was for killing he had told her more times than she could remember. Still you used what you could. The wild slash caught the leaping beast at the top of the thigh. Flesh tore and bones cracked, but not cleanly, the cat yowled like a demon but its weight took the scimitar, too dull to cleanly sever the limb, spinning from her hand.

"Shiz," she cursed in Reikspiel and then a great weight hit her from behind. She threw herself forward with it, feeling claws at her back and the feral stink of the beast as it bore her to the ground. If it pinned her, even for a few seconds it was over. Desperately, she grabbed its head with both hands and heaved, using all her might and the momentum of the fall to lever it into a throw. The panther scrabbled almost comically at the air, trying to twist about before it crashed into the low wall that surrounded the old forum with a shower of dust and hissing cries. 

By now her eyes were growing accustomed to the gloom. She could see other slaves up in the tiers. She could run for saftey, but there wasn't a woman alive that could outrun a pouncing tiger. The largest of the beasts was at the end of the space, charging towards her with shoulder blades scissoring. Calliope opened her mouth and screamed in wordless rage and charged to meet it. The move through the beast off for a moment but it lunged for her. Calliope threw herself over it, feeling the slap of its tail as she cleared the monster, she hit the ground and rolled as it turned whip quick and lunged again. Scrabbling fingers found the hilt of the scimitar and whipped it up. The beast crashed into her driving its full weight onto the sword point and knocking the pommel back against the stone like an anti-cavalry pike. It impaled the creature up to the hilt. It screamed a spray of blood and saliva into Calliope's face then sagged like a deflated wineskin.

Calliope got to her feet, gripping the blood slicked hilt and trying to drag it free. It was stuck fast, suctioned into the flesh. Something struck her and send her staggering sideways, a rain of rocks and boos from some of the slaves pelting her. She tried to ignore the barrage, gripping the hilt of the sword and planting a foot against the beasts chest to pull it free. There was a crack as the slave with the chains broke the neck of the beast he had been struggling with and threw it to the ground. There was blood on his forearms but he raised his hands and shouted a warning. Calliope spun as the last tiger hit her and sent her spinning to the ground. It was on her instantly, jaws gaping, she slammed her forearm into its mouth, wedging it back far enough that it couldn't snap its jaws. Its rank breath made her queasy as she drove a punch into its ribs. Pain exploded along her arms as it swiped at her with it's claws. She screamed in rage and frustration and felt a jolt of magic. The cat screamed and flinched back, momentarily overcome with unease. She kicked it hard in the snout then bounded to her feet and followed up, it bounded away, leaping up towards the waiting slaves. A half dozen of them were armed and a pale looking man smashed a mace into it's mouth, dropping it bonelessly to the floor. Aching and blowing hard Calliope stumbled over to her sword. With a heave she pulled it free, shaking the blood from it as she turned to the crippled cat, it was on the floor, licking at its wounded leg, it cowered as she approached. She looked down at the beast for a second, then let out a sigh.

"To hell with it," she muttered, and turned and hobbled away, pulling herself up into the relative safety of the seats. The slaves that had thrown things at her gave her a wary look and she felt blood dripping from deep scratches in her left arm.

"Thank you," she said to the slave who had saved her.