Arena 13 #2 THE PREY

by Joseph Delaney

  He paused and glanced at the left side of my face. ‘Good luck!’ he called as he dragged the bin away.

  I turned and smiled at him, then headed for Arena 13.

  Moments later, as the candelabrum descended, I was facing the smug Palm across the floor of the arena. Although Tyron’s practice floor had the same dimensions, this presented me with a different experience andwould give me a better insight into fighting here. Arena 13 was much higher, and the gallery was visible from the combat floor. Even if the seats were mostly empty, it had a different atmosphere.

  It was noon, but there were no windows in the gallery, and the thirteen-branched candelabrum burned brightly. I could still smell the new leather seats, but now there was also a taint of blood in the air. Two days agothere had been a grudge match, a fight to the death. The victor had granted clemency to his opponent, but he had already been cut to ribbons and he’d died from his wounds.

  There was no trumpet to signal the start of our first bout. I looked up and saw the only two spectators in the gallery – Tyron and Deinon. They were both leaning over the rail, looking down at us. Tyron was holdingthe brass timing device.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked, his voice booming down from the gallery.

  We both nodded. He pressed the lever, and I heard the ticking of the timer.

  My heart was beating rapidly and I forced my breathing to slow, inhaling deep, steady breaths to calm myself. I tapped out my signal to my lac and we surged forward. I was determined to attack and keep a constantpressure on Palm. I had to force him onto the back foot.

  To my delight, it began to work, and his fixed smile slowly faded. Now there were beads of sweat on his forehead. Again and again I pressed the attack home, forcing back his tri-glad, but when it came to finishing itoff, my lac just wasn’t fast enough; it could not find the other lac’s throat-socket.

  All at once it was over-extended, and a blade found its throat-socket to call endoff. It went down.

  I’d lost the first bout and had to suffer the ritual cut again. The pain seemed worse than ever, and I doubled over and gritted my teeth, unable to straighten my body. The seconds ticked by and I felt humiliated.

  Finally the pain receded, and I crouched behind my lac again.

  I had to learn to bear the pain better than this! After all, I’d coped with the pain of the tattoos.

  ‘That bout lasted two minutes and thirty seconds!’ called Tyron. ‘Try to do better, Leif!’

  But things went from bad to worse. During the second bout my lac lost its balance, and that was that.

  ‘Barely thirty seconds, Leif!’ called Tyron as I was cut again. ‘That’s very disappointing. I paid for an hour. It seems that I’ve wasted my money.’

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It didn’t sound like the Tyron I knew.

  I readied myself for a really big effort. I felt angry and humiliated, and the smirk on Palm’s face made it worse. This time I was more cautious, trying not to over-extend my lac. I fought defensively and guided it intogood positions. Things were going well. I knew that I’d lasted over four minutes.

  But then Palm’s tri-glad cornered me, trapping me against the arena wall. So I used what had been Kern’s favourite defensive move. I bounced my back against the wall and moved sideways, attempting to escape.

  I almost managed it, but my lac was forced back hard against me. Its elbow smashed into my left eye and my head shot back with some force against the wall. Everything went black.

  In a Trig contest in Arena 13, that could have been very dangerous – perhaps deadly. When a contestant is down, the cuts lack the precision of the ritual end to each bout. Lacs are very fast and incredibly strong, sosometimes the cuts are so deep that the loser dies of shock and loss of blood; occasionally a limb or a head is severed.

  Deinon told me later that Tyron intervened immediately. Quick words of Nym called down from the gallery halted all four lacs. Palm had won again, but he didn’t get to gloat this time; no cut was delivered.

  I was carried back to Tyron’s house and up to bed. A doctor was summoned, and it was three days before I was allowed to get up. They kept me sedated, and on the morning of the third day I opened my eyes to findthat I wasn’t in the room I shared with Deinon.

  There was someone staring down at me. For a moment I thought it was Kwin, but as my eyes cleared, I saw that it was Tyron’s other daughter, Teena. She was blonde-haired and had a fuller figure than Kwin. Teenawas kind and had a very warm smile – though I hadn’t seen it much since the death of her husband, Kern.

  ‘Here, try to sit up,’ she said, placing a pillow behind my shoulders, and handing me a large glass of water. I was thirsty and drank half of it without coming up for air.

  ‘Don’t gulp too much or it might make you sick. How do you feel?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ve a slight headache and my shoulder is sore,’ I told her, ‘but apart from that I feel all right.’

  ‘No nausea?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Then I’ll bring you up some breakfast,’ she said, smiling again, though I could see that grief was not far from the surface. How could she ever forget the sight of Kern being dragged out of the arena, giving a finalanguished glance up into the gallery?

  ‘The doctor said you should stay in bed for a bit longer. But no doubt you’ll have visitors to relieve the tedium.’

  My first was Deinon, who kept apologizing for the performance of the lac. He thought everything was his fault, so I spent most of the time putting his mind at rest.

  ‘Look, you did your best. You’re a good patterner. Who knows, you might be even better than Tyron one day. But Palm’s lacs are just too good. Don’t beat yourself up about this, please!’

  ‘But it was so hard to watch you being cut like that, Leif. I really can’t understand why Tyron allowed it. You always try your best. Doesn’t he know that? There’s no need to inflict pain on you. That talk of forcingyou in a hothouse is stupid. I think I’ll have a word with him—’

  ‘No, Deinon, leave it to me. You’ll only get into trouble. When the time comes, I’ll tell him what I think.’

  Deinon persisted, and arguing with him soon tired me out.

  About an hour after he’d left I had another visitor. This time, to my delight, it was Kwin.

  ‘My word, that’s a shiner!’ she exclaimed, looking at my black eye. ‘How did it happen? Deinon said you were fighting a private contest in Arena 13.’

  ‘Your father hired the arena to give me practice fighting there. I didn’t last long, though. The lac pushed me back against the wall.’

  ‘Well, it happens,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Who were you fighting?’

  ‘Palm. That tri-glad of his is just too good for my lac.’

  I watched the smile slip from her face. She was staring at my upper arms. ‘What the hell is that?’ she said, her eyes flashing with anger.

  I shrugged and looked at the cuts. One was slightly infected and had been smeared with ointment; the others were red and livid.

  ‘Each one tells you that I lost a contest to Palm,’ I said, trying to keep my voice cheerful.

  ‘Were the blades coated in kransin?’ she asked.

  I nodded.

  ‘You were cut at the end of training bouts and with kransin-coated blades?’ she said in astonishment. ‘What stupidity is that?’

  ‘Your father’s just trying to toughen me up. He said the contests against Palm will go on until I finally manage to win.’

  ‘Did he now!’ hissed Kwin, almost spitting with fury. ‘Well, we’ll see about that!’

  She stormed out of the room, and after a few moments I heard her shouting, and Tyron arguing back. Then a door slammed.

  She didn’t return to my room, but soon Tyron paid me a visit.

  ‘You’ll be on your feet tomorrow, boy, and back to light training. In that third bout you fought well until you were knocked out. Raise your game a bit more and you might win next time. You’ve a week to preparebefore your
next bout with Palm. I’ll hire the arena again.’

  Then he was gone, leaving me angry and close to despair. Despite what he’d said, I was a long way from beating Palm. My lac simply wasn’t good enough.

  AROUND HER LITTLE FINGER

  Newt, an analytical wurde-tool used by an artificer to explore a wurde-matrix, presents a novice patterner with his greatest challenge.

  The Manual of Nym

  Soon I was back in training. Tyron still hadn’t employed anyone else to take over Kern’s duties, so he took personal charge of we two trainees. But of course he had other older boys to coach, and also qualified fightersand patterners working for him who were based in the Wheel. He also had an office in the admin building; Kwin worked there in the mornings, but in the afternoons she went back to Tallus’s house to see Ada.

  This meant that Tyron had to share out his time. We got the mornings; in the afternoons he visited the Wheel. When he was absent, our instructions were to try and improve our knowledge of Nym; he usually left us alist of wurdes to look up in the Slim Nym Dictionary.

  On the third afternoon after I’d got back to work there was a light rap on my study door. I opened it and found Kwin and Deinon standing there.

  Kwin smiled. ‘Ada wants to talk to Deinon. She’s going to give him some advice on how to improve your lac.’

  ‘It’s nice of her to offer to help,’ I said. No doubt Kwin had begged her, I thought. But would Deinon be able to learn enough to make a difference?

  When they left, I continued with my studies.

  Deinon was away all afternoon and got back only just before Tyron returned. He was clutching a sheaf of papers.

  ‘Ada’s given me some wurdes for the lac,’ he explained. ‘We’ll try them out tomorrow afternoon. Kwin’s going to help.’

  She came to my study at about three the following afternoon. ‘We need to go down and help Deinon now,’ she said. ‘First we have to purge the creature. Ada warned us that it will be messy. Afterwards you’ll need tohose down the lac and the floor.’

  When we entered the cellar, my lac was on its feet. All its armour had been removed and it was completely naked. Deinon stood facing it, reading wurdes of Nym from a sheet of paper. He was speaking slowly andsteadily, and frowning with concentration.

  After a moment he turned and smiled at me. ‘Get ready with the hosepipe, Leif!’

  It was wrapped around a bracket on the wall, so I uncoiled it and turned on the tap. One twist at the end of the pipe and water would spurt out.

  As he spoke to the lac again, it began to tremble and its eyes rolled up into its head. Now it was twitching and groaning, as if in pain. Suddenly a thin fluid began to ooze from the purple slit on the front of its neck. Itwas a bright yellow in colour, and flecked with denser globules of green, and the smell it gave off was very unpleasant.

  Then the trickle became surge, and a slimy, stinking fluid ran down its chest and belly and began to drip onto the stone flags.

  I readied the hose, but Deinon waved me back.

  ‘That was just toxins that accumulate in the throat-slit,’ he said. ‘There’s worse to come. Now I’ll purge its body and get rid of the infections there.’

  Reading from the sheet, he spoke only one wurde, but the effect was instantaneous. The lac’s nose ran, vomit spouted from its mouth and it evacuated waste and poisons from every orifice. The stink wasoverwhelming, and I quickly hosed down the body of the groaning creature and the floor, trying not to be sick.

  After everything had been sluiced down the drain, Deinon smiled at us and gestured towards the bench at the far end of the cellar. ‘It’s best if you wait over there while I finish,’ he said. ‘I’m going to try to over-writesome of its patterns with new ones. But I’ve got a problem with reading out the wurdes. My pronunciation probably isn’t that good, so I might have to repeat some sections. This could take some time.’

  So Kwin and I sat down on the bench, watching from a distance while Deinon worked. ‘What will happen if Tallus finds out that Ada has helped us?’ I asked.

  ‘That’s nothing to worry about,’ Kwin said, smiling mischievously. ‘Ada can twist Tallus around her little finger. Last night I saw them sitting beside the hearth holding hands. They didn’t know I was there.’

  ‘So you were spying on them!’ I accused her with a grin.

  ‘Not at all!’ exclaimed Kwin. ‘I just happened to glimpse them through the kitchen door.’

  ‘So is she playing him for a fool,’ I asked, ‘in order to get her own way?’

  ‘She’s definitely trying to get her own way – what woman doesn’t try to shape a man to her needs?’ laughed Kwin. ‘But I can tell she really likes him. I suspect that last night they were generating more heat than theembers of the fire!’

  Kwin’s laughter was infectious and I joined in.

  ‘Are you enjoying your time at Tallus’s house?’ I asked her.

  ‘I certainly am. Ada sometimes says the strangest things, but she’s very interesting. If you didn’t know where she came from and what she’d been, you’d think she was putting on airs and graces. But in her other lifeshe was really important – the most talented of all the patterners. I’m amazed how quickly she’s adjusted to her life here. And, you know, it’s good to get away from my father – he’d like to control everything about me,if he could. Of course, I do miss one thing . . .’ Kwin smiled at me mysteriously.

  Did she mean me? I wondered. But how could I ask? What if I was wrong? I felt my face begin to burn and saw her smile widen.

  ‘When’s Tallus going to fight again?’ I blurted out to cover my confusion.

  ‘It’ll be next week, early on the Wednesday evening List. Why don’t you come and watch? He trains hard and he really is getting better. Ada is pleased with him.’

  Just then Deinon called us over. I saw that the lac was shivering slightly, but I’d never seen it look so alert.

  ‘Leif, this is Thrym,’ said Deinon, pointing towards it. ‘Thrym, this is Leif! Defend Leif!’ Then he read from a sheet again: ‘Defeat opponents! Let no blade touch his flesh!’

  The lac began staring at me in a way that was very disconcerting. The expression in its eyes seemed different – almost curious.

  ‘You’ve given it a name! Is it sentient?’ I asked in astonishment.

  ‘It isn’t truly sentient in the way a human is. Ada can’t do that yet. But Thrym has some awareness. And Ada gives all the lacs that she patterns names. I’ve just followed her instructions. According to her, it knowsyou so you’re bonded together and it should fight all the better for that. Now there is another matter. No doubt in time Tyron will discover what’s been done here, but for now Ada thinks it should remain secret. Palmshould get a big surprise the next time you fight.’

  ‘Palm’s a conceited idiot. He deserves all he gets!’ Kwin interjected. ‘I can’t believe my father allowed full Arena 13 rules in those practice bouts.’

  ‘In order to keep our little secret, during any preparations witnessed by Tyron, Thrym will fight and behave exactly as he did previously,’ Deinon explained. ‘Only when you speak the wurdes “Awake, Thrym!” willhis new, higher capabilities be activated. Understand? Then return him to his lower state with the command, “Sleep, Thrym!”’

  I nodded. ‘Thanks for doing that, Deinon. Kwin, please thank Ada for me. Now I’ll be able to give Palm a real fight!’

  ‘Yes, I think you will,’ Kwin agreed, her eyes twinkling.

  We weren’t supposed to practise with a lac unless Tyron was present, but I couldn’t resist putting it through its paces.

  ‘Awake, Thrym!’

  The lac looked at me in a way that was unnerving. The expression on its face was almost human.

  Then we advanced across the floor and I drummed out a few commands, using Ulum. It responded well, and I was filled with a sudden surge of optimism. At last I had a real chance of beating Palm!

  Of course, there was no way to evaluate its capabilities properly without faci
ng an opponent, but I could see that the creature responded faster, and showed new agility and grace.

  Suddenly I was looking forward to my next contest.

  THE FLASH OF BLADES

  Bravery is mandatory.

  Arena 13 Rules of Combat

  I went to watch Tallus’s second appearance in Arena 13 in the company of Kwin and Ada.

  Once again he won, but this time with much more style. Nobody laughed, and there were even a few cheers and a smattering of genuine applause at the end of the contest. He had lost weight and danced close to theback of his lac.

  Combatants who fought from stables such as Tyron’s had the corporate logo on the back of their leather jerkins. Others didn’t bother with a symbol – though a few used their first name. Embossed onto the back ofTallus’s jerkin was the word TAL.

  Ada positively glowed with happiness.

  But we weren’t the only ones interested in the performance of his lac and the woman who had patterned it. The gallery was filled to capacity, the city still buzzing with speculation about the artificer Tallus had bought.Ada and Kwin left before me, and I turned and watched the spectators rubber-necking as they went up the steps.

  After that, although there were three further contests scheduled, the gallery gradually emptied and I left early too. I needed a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow I was to fight Palm again.

  ‘Full Trig rules, as usual!’ Tyron commanded from the gallery as the candelabrum slowly descended. Deinon sat next to him, smiling down at me. No doubt he was anticipating my victory.

  My lac had improved, but would it be good enough to defeat Palm’s formidable tri-glad? I wondered. It wasn’t as if Ada had patterned the lac directly. I knew Deinon had done his best, but he was still a novice andmight not have communicated all Ada’s wurdes properly. His pronunciation was not perfect, and errors could have been introduced.