Arena 13 #2 THE PREY

by Joseph Delaney

  On my way through Mypocine I had hoped to find my old friend Peter. I’d just spent five months in the north of the country, being trained to fight in Arena 13, so I hadn’t seen him for some time.

  Peter was a stick-fighter, like me, and I had no doubt he’d be here somewhere, watching and waiting for his turn. This green just north of the city was where challengers desperate to prove themselves and move upthrough the rankings came each Saturday morning.

  At last I glimpsed the current combatants. There were only two still on their feet and they were trading furious blows: ones to the body caused bruises and sometimes cuts, but victory resulted from a blow to anopponent’s head. There were two lads on the ground holding their heads; one of them was bleeding badly.

  Suddenly there was more blood – a red spurt from the nose of the combatant facing me. It splattered the front of his white shirt and dribbled down onto his dark trousers.

  The contest was over.

  The winner had his back to me and I watched him bow. I’d started that convention. It was something that my father had taught me. Once Peter and I started doing it, the habit had caught on; every winner did it now.

  And then I realized that I knew the winner. He was a little broader and taller now, but the lad with his back to me was Peter!

  There was a loud cheer, and some groans and boos, to mark the end of the contest, and then the crowd moved away, some clutching tickets and surging towards the red-sashed tout waiting on the corner of the street.These had bet on the winner, and were now seeking the money owed them by the waiting gambling agent.

  ‘Peter!’ I shouted to catch the winner’s attention.

  He turned at the sound of my voice, smiled in surprise and walked towards me through the crowd. His dark hair was still shaved into a crew cut, his eyebrows were bushy, meeting in the middle, but his face seemed alittle different. At first I couldn’t work out what it was.

  ‘Hi, Leif!’ he called as he pushed his way towards me. ‘You’re back!’

  Now I saw that four of his front teeth were missing – two at the top and two at the bottom.

  He saw me staring. ‘You’re looking at this?’ He grinned as he pointed into his open mouth. ‘It happens to us all eventually!’

  I smiled at him but I couldn’t hide my shock: I had never lost my teeth in a fight, and I hadn’t expected Peter to do so either. He’d been one of the best stick-fighters in Mypocine, second only to me. And today he hadlooked as good as ever in combat.

  ‘Didn’t it work out in the city?’ he asked.

  ‘It worked out fine. I’m being trained in the stable of the best artificer in Gindeen. But with the season over, I’ve come back south for a few months.’

  What I’d said was true, but I didn’t mention the dark side of what I’d experienced: the terrible deaths. I made sure I didn’t look too cheerful. It wouldn’t do to appear boastful. Although Peter had wished me luck, Iknow he too would have loved the chance to go to Gindeen to be trained. But it was I who had got the winning ticket that guaranteed me a free place in a stable of combatants.

  ‘I’ve kept your sticks safe for you, Leif. How about I set up a bout between you and me to see who’s best these days? While you’ve been away, I’ve taken your crown as the official champion of Mypocine. Want tosee if you can win it back?’

  Peter had given me many a tough fight, but had never actually beaten me. I shook my head. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, Peter, but I’m not allowed to fight with sticks any more. It’s one of the rules laid down by Tyron,the man I work for.’

  Peter’s smile slipped from his face. ‘You’ve got to be joking!’ he exclaimed. ‘He’d never find out. We’re too far away from Gindeen. Don’t be soft, Leif. I deserve a chance to beat you. Come on, what do you say?’

  ‘Look, I’m really sorry, but I just can’t risk it. Tyron has sacked me once already for stick-fighting; he wouldn’t give me a second chance. And you’d be surprised how much information finds its way back toGindeen.’

  ‘You’re just making excuses!’ Peter snapped. He seemed angry.

  I started to feel angry myself. ‘It’s not an excuse. I’m finished with stick-fighting. I won’t fight you, Peter.’

  ‘Why did you come back then?’

  ‘I want to visit the Genthai lands and see how my father’s people live. I’m just passing through. I stopped here because I wanted to see you. We’re still friends, aren’t we?’

  He stared hard at me for a few moments, then his face broke into a wide smile. ‘Of course we’re still friends. Shall we go and get a drink and something to eat?’

  I nodded, and he led the way across the muddy field, then through the narrow streets of wooden buildings.

  Much of Gindeen, my new home, had been a disappointment to me – its boardwalks and buildings were just as rotten as they were here in the south – but there was one district called Westmere, where the rich,successful people lived; this was more impressive than anywhere I’d ever been in my life. There was a big plaza with cafés and shops where you could sit outside when the weather permitted.

  Here, our destination was a café that looked ramshackle but was full to bursting: we had to wait before a table became free. We both had the same – eggs and beans on toast followed by a glass of fruit juice.

  At first the conversation flowed easily. I asked questions about the lads I remembered. For many of them, things hadn’t changed, but a few had drifted away; one had even got married and his new wife wouldn’t lethim fight any more.

  It was five months since I’d left and there had been changes, but that was only to be expected. Stick-fighting was usually something teenagers did. Then they moved on, got married or found jobs on farms. And whenPeter started talking about people I’d never heard of, I realized that if I came back to Mypocine regularly, we’d have less in common each year. I would become more and more of a stranger. I tried telling Peter about mynew life in Gindeen, but I saw that he wasn’t really interested; he changed the subject whenever he could.

  I began to wonder if he was jealous of me: after all, I’d got away and become an Arena 13 trainee; I belonged in Gindeen now. I liked being trained by Tyron and living with Deinon, another of his trainees, and therest of his family. Kwin, Tyron’s youngest daughter, came suddenly into my mind – her hair deliberately cut shorter on one side to display the scar on her cheek; the scar she’d got after activating one of her father’s lacsand fighting it, blade against blade. I missed Kwin, but I still wasn’t sure how she really felt about me.

  I came out of my daydream to see Peter staring at me, a strange expression on his face. ‘I’d best be off,’ I said. ‘I’d like to be well clear of the town before nightfall.’

  ‘Do you know any of the Genthai?’ he asked with a frown.

  ‘I met one of them briefly a while back. So I thought I would visit.’

  ‘Well, you should be all right,’ Peter said, ‘being half Genthai yourself. But most of the ones left in this town beg or steal and drink themselves unconscious each night. And those living in the tribal grounds thinkthey’re better than us. They’ve never been that friendly—’

  ‘It’s their right to keep themselves to themselves,’ I interrupted. I was trying to stay calm, but it annoyed me when people criticized the Genthai and complained about them.

  ‘No offence, Leif. I’m just trying to tell you that things have got worse in recent months. Town folk who’ve ventured into the forest have been forced back. One group of hunters resisted and made a real fight of it.They were beaten bloody, then bound and dumped on the outskirts of town. The tribal Genthai were always territorial, you know that, but now they think the forest belongs to them. I’m just trying to warn you – that’sall.’

  I smiled and nodded, but what he’d said disturbed me. Maybe it wouldn’t be so easy to visit my father’s people after all. I’d assumed that I’d be welcome, but now I was dubious about my reception.

  ‘Thanks for the warning, Peter,’ I said, ‘but I’ll be f
ine. I’ll tell you all about it when I pass through here on my way back.’

  Soon I was leaving the city behind, but Peter’s warning had worried me. Konnit, the Genthai leader I’d met, had told me that they were on a war footing. They might have no time for me now. Perhaps, even though I’dcome all this way, I would be turned back too . . .

  HALF-BLOOD

  The moon shall dim as the sun grows bright.

  Amabramsum: the Genthai Book of Wisdom

  That night, as I lay amongst the tall conifers at the edge of the forest, looking up at the stars, I thought again about Peter’s warning. I decided that if I was stopped, I would explain why I was making this visit and askpermission to proceed. But if they still barred my way, I would turn back. After all, the forest was part of the Genthai domain.

  From time to time I was disturbed by the forest creatures – though nothing large enough to make me feel nervous. I lay there, thinking. I remembered what Konnit had said to me on the slope below Hob’s citadel afterhis warriors had rescued me from some tassels:

  First we must take back this land from the traitor who calls himself the Protector, and cleanse it of abominations such as Hob. That done, we will ride forward beyond the Barrier to defeat those who confined us here.

  I wasn’t sure I agreed about the last bit. It seemed extremely reckless. We didn’t know how powerful the opposition beyond the Barrier would be. However, I certainly wanted to destroy Hob.

  In a great war, centuries earlier, mankind had been defeated by powerful djinn who had turned against their human creators. This world was all any of us had ever known. How could the Genthai expect to changethings? Although I had no love for the Protector and his men, I feared that overthrowing someone who’d been placed here to rule us and keep us in submission would bring down immediate and terrible retribution. Afterall the Protector was the ruler of Midgard and he enforced order using his guards. And, even if they defeated and removed him, how could the Genthai hope to pass through the Barrier that enclosed our land – that wallof mist and terror that drove men mad.

  I’d never ventured anywhere near it. It was foolish to do so, as some had found out to their cost: they returned jabbering with terror, their minds fragmented.

  Perhaps the Genthai had become more territorial because they didn’t want outsiders to discover their preparations for war.

  My musings were interrupted by the hoot of an owl and the shriek of a bird I couldn’t identify. There were little rustlings, but I knew that the forest was home to large black bears and wolves. Now I heard howls in thedistance – along with a cry that I couldn’t identify; something that wasn’t a wolf.

  I finally drifted into a broken sleep. A couple of hours before dawn I heard something moving through the nearby trees. I came up onto my knees and gripped the dagger I had brought with me. I listened hard, thinkingthat it sounded as if it was walking on two legs rather than four. Black bears could be dangerous, but they didn’t attack unless provoked or threatened. The unseen creature soon moved away, and I slept again.

  By late the following afternoon I knew that I was being followed. There were at least three of them. They made no noise, but out of the corner of my eye I caught occasional glimpses of shadows slipping between thetrees. They had to be Genthai.

  It seemed that they were getting closer. How long would it be before they confronted me?

  There was a clearing directly ahead, but before I was halfway across the open space a figure stepped out to block my path. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that my pursuers were in the open now, directly behindme; there were five of them.

  The mounted Genthai warriors who’d rescued me from the tassels had had facial tattoos. Although these armed men had none, they were clearly Genthai. Dressed in leather and furs, they had swords in shoulderscabbards and daggers at their hips; all carried axes. I was fifteen and big for my age, but as I came to a halt and they closed in, I realized that all were at least a head taller; the one who confronted me was nearly sevenfeet tall.

  The giant balanced his axe across his broad shoulder, gripping it with his right hand. ‘You’re not welcome here,’ he told me, his words rumbling up from deep inside him.

  I looked straight back into his eyes and paused before replying to give him a chance to take in the colour of my skin, which was almost as dark as his. I wanted these people to see that I had Genthai blood.

  ‘I’ve come to visit the land of my father’s people,’ I told him. ‘My name is Leif. My father fought in Arena 13 under the name Mathias, though most folk shortened it to Math. His Genthai name was Lasar.’

  The big warrior raised his eyebrows in surprise and then looked me up and down. ‘Your father might have been Genthai, but your mother was not of our people,’ he said, his voice full of disdain. ‘You’re a half-blood.’

  Back in the city of Gindeen, I’d occasionally encountered prejudice because of my darker skin and Genthai appearance, but I’d never thought for a moment that I would find it here. A truth suddenly struck me –something that I’d never even considered before. I belonged neither to the Genthai nor to the city dwellers. I would always be somewhere in between; always an outsider.

  ‘I was invited here by Konnit,’ I said, suppressing my emotions.

  ‘Konnit? Which Konnit do you speak of? There are several families who go by that name.’

  I glanced quickly at the men surrounding me. All were clean-shaven – unlike Konnit.

  ‘That was the only name he gave me. He had facial tattoos and a moustache that obscured most of his mouth. He rode a big horse and wielded two swords,’ I said. ‘He said that he would one day become the leader ofthe Genthai.’

  The warrior glared at me and clenched his left fist, and for a moment I thought that he was about to strike me. It took all my willpower not to flinch. ‘If you prove to be a liar, half-blood, we will beat you to within aninch of your life. You speak of Hemi Konnit, who is indeed our leader now. Tie his hands!’ he snapped at the men behind me.

  They snatched my bag from me, then bound my hands behind my back roughly, tying the rope so tightly that it cut into my wrists. For the first time I began to feel afraid. If Konnit didn’t remember our meeting Iwould be in for a terrible beating. The big warrior probably didn’t care whether I lived or died.

  Then I was blindfolded and pushed hard in the back. I staggered and almost fell, but I was dragged forward by my arms, and we set off at a furious pace.

  We continued in this way for about an hour, changing direction three times. Twice we stopped and I was spun round on the spot with some force – round and round, until I became dizzy and almost fell. I guessed thatthe idea was to make it impossible for me to remember the way to the Genthai camp. My captors laughed, but not once did they speak to me. I was completely in their power.

  At last I heard other voices, and suddenly I sensed a change in the air and smelled the stink of urine and sawdust. I realized that we were indoors. The blindfold was ripped from my eyes and somebody at my backbegan to untie my hands.

  I found myself in a small windowless room with an earthen floor, furnished with only a chair, a bed and a small table with a jug on it. In one corner there was a post in the ground, with manacles attached. It was a cellfor holding prisoners.

  ‘You’ll spend the night here while we find out if you’re a liar as well as a half-blood,’ the big man said. ‘Don’t try to escape. The door will be locked and there are guards outside. There’s water on the table and a potfor your piss in the corner.’

  With that, my Genthai captors went outside and I heard a key being turned in the lock.

  Grateful that I hadn’t been chained, I sipped the water to slake my thirst. Since leaving Gindeen at the end of the season I’d been living off the land, snaring rabbits and hares. I remembered that there were some stripsof dried meat, cheese and oatcakes in the bag I’d bought in Mypocine, but the Genthai hadn’t returned it, so I was going to go hungry.

  It seemed a long night. I pushed away ima
ges of the terrible deaths I’d seen in the arena, along with my visit to Hob’s citadel, and concentrated on Kwin.

  She was wild, fierce and unpredictable. She wanted to fight in Arena 13 – although that was impossible; a dream that could never come true. Only men and boys could fight there.

  I liked the rebel in her, and remembered her challenging me to a stick-fight. She’d been very fast and skilful, and I’d probably only won because she’d slipped on a bone in the circle we’d cleared in the slaughterhouse.Right from the start I’d been drawn to her and was desolate when I found out that she had a boyfriend called Jon. But then they had broken up and my hopes had started to revive.

  A vivid memory of that stick-fight came into my mind: I’d just won the second of three bouts, catching her on the forehead; blood was trickling down into her eye, but she wasn’t angry. She smiled. Her face wasilluminated by a shaft of moonlight, transfigured into something otherworldly and beautiful. It was the face of an angel.

  I could see it now. It was something I’d never forget.

  Holding onto that image, I drifted off to sleep.

  Finally the door was opened again, allowing in the morning light. One of my captors poked his head through the doorway and beckoned me outside. He set off towards an open fire; some kind of animal was roastingover it on a spit. The other warriors sat around it sipping from metal mugs.

  I followed, glancing back at my prison – a single small oblong hut with a sloping roof. I could see other larger buildings set amongst the trees. I wondered if the Genthai kept other prisoners here. If so, what sort ofcrimes would they have committed? My father had told me a little about Genthai rules and values, but I’d still much to learn.

  The warrior pointed to the ground so I sat down. Nobody spoke, but a mug was thrust towards me and I took it in both hands and sipped. The liquid was very hot and spicy, with a hint of peppermint. Soon the meatwas being carved. I was the last to be served but I was grateful. It was venison and it was delicious.

  ‘We decided to feed you rather than beat you, half-blood,’ the big man growled, staring at me hard. ‘We sent word to Konnit and his reply has just come back. Lucky for you he remembers your meeting. So you’ll beseeing him again later.’