Armor

The carriage arrived at a large warehouse building not too far from the Carp’s Flagon. I hopped out and was escorted inside by the driver. The entrance looked nondescript, with no indication it served any particular purpose, but I could tell that the various beggars, men playing dice, and sleeping drunks surrounding the warehouse were armed.

The inside was enormous. After passing through a short hallway, it opened up into an high-ceilinged arena with enough seating for hundreds, all arrayed around a large pit of sand. The sand had a sickly red color to it in some spots, and there was evidence of teeth making it into the seats near where I stood.

I was passed off to a guard who led me deeper into the warehouse where I lost sight of the arena. After a few turns, I was led into a well-appointed room with tables, chairs, couches, fine carpets on the floor, and curtains to give the appearance of windows where none existed.

Kyren, Stone, and Hrig were waiting for me. Stone leapt up, causing the guard who’d escorted me to reach for his weapon, and embraced me. The guard loosened his grip on his weapon.

"I’m glad you’re okay, lad," he said.

I felt a by-now-familiar feeling of warmth and returned the hug briefly before separating with the traditional two back pats. "Is everyone okay?"

"We’re fine. They haven’t tried to hurt us, since we didn’t resist," said Kyren.

"It was damned tempting, though," said Hrig.

Stone’s expression was pained. "I appreciate yer restraint. I’m truly sorry about this." He turned to me. "Did they tell you everything?"

"I owe you an explanation," he said.

"Not really. It’s fine."

He looked surprised. "Really?"

"You don’t owe me anything. I could tell from talking to Talen that his holding this debt over your head was just the most convenient option. Even without it, he’d still pressure you into doing what he wants. He’s just that type of man."

He grimaced. "He wasn’t always like this. Always a criminal, mind you, but he was never this ruthless before. Hell, he was just middle management when we passed through Cirros last time. He’s completely changed. He’s destroyed or taken over every other criminal enterprise in the city, bought off lawmen and nobles, and he’s even been expanding downriver. Frankly, he didn’t used to be smart enough for this. I don’t know how he’s managed it."

"People change. Not always for the better," said Kyren with a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"Aye, that’s true. The gist of it is that he helped me out of an obligation to some very bad people. At the time, I thought it was just him being kind, but now, I wonder if he’d always planned on calling in his chit."

"I understand him wanting to use you to take care of some of his competition, but why does he need Hrig and me in his arena?" I asked.

"Well, as a distraction, lad. Half the city will show up to see the Duchess of Death back in the arena."

"Stone!" yelled Hrig.

"He’s going to figure it out when you’re in the arena together anyway."

"Duchess of Death?" I asked.

"That was her nickname back when she was a gladiator at the coliseum of Buryn," said Kyren. "She was quite the star. My brothers even went to see her fight once."

"I had no idea," I said.

"That’s because I don’t like to talk about it, but since a certain dwarf owes a criminal a favor, I guess I’ll have to get used to it."

"Yer the best, Hrig."

She snorted and turned her head.

"Okay, so we’ll be distracting the criminal element while you and Kyren do what?" I asked.

"We're waiting on some maps and a bit of information, but the gist of it is that I’ll be swapping some cooked books and placing some inflammatory evidence so that the last remnants of resistance against Talen eats itself alive."

"Sounds simple enough."

"It’s not. The entire plan is very convoluted. That’s why Talen needs me to do it."

"You sound proud," said Kyren.

"I am, but only because I earned that reputation."

I turned to Kyren. "And how are you going to help him? This isn't exactly something I'd expect of a priestess."

She smiled. "That's why I'm going to make a great lookout. Also, I can put people to sleep, which Stone has found very convenient in the past."

Stone sat on a couch and took a deep breath. "Thank you all for your help."

I looked over at Hrig and at Kyren. "Don’t think that just because we could all die, I’m not waiting on my cut for routing the goblin camp."

"Yeah, I know you did some additional haggling while I was getting my axe repaired. Don’t think I’m not expecting my share," said Hrig.

"I will also be expecting my usual tithe for any theft you committed along the way," said Kyren.

Stone looked up and smiled. "Well, assuming we survive, I promise each of you gets your cut...minus perhaps a modest fee."

* * *

A couple days later, Hrig and I were standing in the center of the arena surrounded on all sides by a menagerie of warriors, mages, and brutes of all kinds. I counted twenty-six. The crowd was equally diverse—sailors, tradesmen, and nobility all mingled in the stands, hungry for blood and spectacle.

I’d asked Stone how Talen had managed to keep an arena like this secret from the law, and he’d told me that he simply didn’t keep it secret. Instead, he gave those in power the best seats, comfortable bribes, and the occasional threat when necessary. The arena had been a part of Talen's responsibilities even before he'd had his meteoric rise.

Talen himself stood on a dais overlooking the pit. He wore a slightly more elegant red tunic, this one with touches of gold thread noticeable even at a distance. He stood, holding up a hand, and the arena quieted. That seemed to be one of his favorite tricks.

"Welcome, my loyal patrons, to another night of blood-sport!" He held for applause and was rewarded enthusiastically. "Tonight, we have a special treat for you all. The legendary Duchess of Death, Champion of the Coliseum of Buryn, is making her Cirros debut!"

The crowd exploded.

Hrig, rather than looking uncomfortable as I’d expected her to, was positively glowing with enthusiasm. She offered up a vicious smile to the crowd, slammed her axe into the ground, and waved, encouraging their applause.

I’d always thought of her as a barbarian. She went into rages, could live off the land, and was as strong as any human I’d encountered. But watching her embrace the crowd, I could tell she was actually a gladiator. She'd been made for the ring.

Talen held up his hand for quiet again, but Hrig encouraged one more round of applause with some flexing. I hoped that bothered him. Talen was perhaps the only human since my master that I truly disliked. He eventually got the crowd to quiet down, though it certainly took him more effort than he liked.

"Now, some of you may be wondering how we’ll be organizing the brackets for this tournament. It’s going to be very simple. Those in the pit have one minute; after that, it’s a mêlée, and the last seven standing will then be paired off to fight one on one." He gestured to the assembled fighters. "Why seven, you ask? Well, because the reigning champion, our very own Donyin, will also be competing!"

The crowd applauded and whooped as the man I’d seen emerge from the shadows at the Carp’s Flagon repeated his trick, appearing at Talen’s right.

"Now, I think we can all agree he’s already earned a spot, hasn’t he?" He took the crowd’s enthusiasm for a yes and produced a small hourglass, showing it to the crowd. "One minute, starting... now!" He flipped the hourglass.

The fighters all scattered, taking positions at the edges of the arena and doing their best to position themselves in such a way that they could anticipate incoming attacks. Hrig held out an open hand to me.

"May I have this dance?" she asked.

I wished very much that I could have smiled at that moment.

"Of course." I took her hand, and she led me not to the edge of the arena, but instead to its center. She stretched her arms and legs, and I took position to watch her back. If Talen wanted us to give him a spectacle, we intended to do our damndest to provide one.

The hourglass emptied, and a whistle-blow signaled for the mêlée to begin. A man wielding two swords and leather armor charged me first and swung both of his blades down at my helmet. I raised my shield up, not to block, but to strike at his hands before his blades could build any momentum. I then slammed the hilt of my sword into his exposed stomach. His eyes widened, and he vomited before doubling over and passing out in his own sick.

He was followed by two men, one wielding a club and another a spear. They charged me at the same time, and I dropped my sword to catch the spear by the shaft. I raised my shield to block the club, but the man wielding it moved past me in an attempt to hit Hrig.

I jerked backward, dragging the spearman through the sand, and kicked at the brute with the club’s knee. I struck true, and his knee made a sickening popping sound as it bent in the wrong direction. I then dropped my shield, grabbed the spear shaft with both hands, and yanked it toward myself before slamming it back in its wielder’s direction, hitting him in the sternum. All the air left his lungs, and he released the spear, dropping to his knees. I then smacked the side of his head with the butt of the spear, and he fell into the sand.

I risked a look in Hrig’s direction. She was standing on one squirming man while braining another with the shaft of her axe. Cleary, she didn’t need my help. I returned my attention to what was in front of me.

A man was approaching wielding a zwei-hander. I raised my newly acquired spear and gave it a series of twirls before locking it behind my back and raising my other hand to gesture for him to attack. I had no real skills with a spear, but any weapon I touched became a part of me, and that alone gave me some advantages.

The man didn’t charge, but instead slowly closed the distance between us. He swung a few exploratory strikes to determine my range, which I sidestepped. He then began to strike in earnest. He swung in such a way that he never lost momentum with his blade; it just continuously moved to strike in dazzling loops. I focused on dodging or deflecting the sword with my spear, careful not to attempt blocking a full-strength blow with it.

I could tell the man was a master duelist, but unfortunately, that didn’t count for much in a mêlée. While he was focused on me, a woman in chainmail wielding a buckler and a rapier approached him quietly from behind and ran him through. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment before he hit the ground. The woman bent down, used the man’s tunic to clean her blade, offered me a quick smile and wink, then went toward another group locked in a struggle, likely to repeat her winning tactic.

With no one left in front of me, I turned my attention back to Hrig. She was locked in combat with a short man wielding curved daggers. There were several small cuts on her arms and legs, but nothing deep enough to leave a scar. She made a series of axe sweeps that the man dodged under and over before leaving another pair of small cuts on her thigh. She shook her head and dropped the axe. "Damn thing’s too slow."

Emboldened by her lack of a weapon, the man charged, attempting to run her through with his knives. Unfortunately for him, her arms were longer than his, even with his daggers, and so she was able to deck him with a straight jab to his face before his blades got close. The man crumpled, clearly better suited to dealing damage than taking it.

I took a quick count. There were eight gladiators left in the arena. Three were locked in combat at the edge, two dueling closer to the center but too focused on one another to involve Hrig or me. The last one was hiding behind a wooden pillar toward the far edge. I lifted my looted spear and threw it with all my strength at the pillar, rewarded with a howl of pain as it embedded itself halfway through the wood and through the man’s shoulder.

A whistle rang from the dais.

"Stop!"

Talen’s voice cut through the roar of the crowd. Gradually, the remaining combatants stopped their fighting and started shuffling back to the center of the arena. The seven remaining gladiators included me, Hrig, the woman with the rapier, a dwarf wearing full plate, an elf wearing thick steel gauntlets, a man holding two morning stars, and a dwarven woman covered in runic tattoos and wearing clawed gloves.

"Take a good look at our participants, everyone." Talen gestured at us dramatically. "We’ll be taking a half hour recess followed by individual fights. Please take this time to place your bets, enjoy our concessions, or perhaps spend some time working off your excitement with one of our many fine escorts."

With that, we were dismissed. Hrig and I gathered our weapons and shuffled out of the pit, making our way back to our preparation room.