Without the protection of his three lacs, Skule’s dance had come to a sudden halt; now the menacing form of Epson’s single lac extended its blades towards him.
To a chorus of howls and shrieks of dismay from Skule’s supporters, Epson’s lac made a small precise cut to his upper arm – the ritual that marked the younger man’s defeat. It was all over.
The doors were opened again, and attendants, directed by Pyncheon, removed the fallen lacs from the arena, while yellow tickets, the betting receipts of those who had bet on Skule, fluttered from disappointed hands.
Quickly people left their seats and there was a surge up the aisles towards the blue-sashed gambling agents, who’d now taken up positions close to the rear wall of the gallery.
‘Epson hardly moved,’ I said, still bemused by what had just taken place. ‘It seemed an easy victory.’
‘Indeed. A victory won before he even set foot in the arena,’ Tyron said with a smile. ‘Watch and learn, boy. That lac is patterned to perfection. Epson moved inside its mind and then told it exactly what to do. One step backwards, then attack. It’s difficult for the combatant from the min position to win: his lac is outnumbered three to one. But the skilful and the brave can achieve it. A man like Epson does it again and again. A tri-glad needs to be perfectly coordinated, and sometimes it can go wrong – as you just saw. Not only that, the mag combatant can be tricked into making mistakes.’
I realized how much there was still to learn before I was ready to set foot in the arena.
At the end of my first full week of training back at Tyron’s house I got a surprise.
Saturday was our one day off. We were free to do what we wanted. I would have preferred another day of training and was planning to get in some practice without Palm around.
But when I woke up that morning, Deinon was sitting on the end of his bed pulling on his socks. There was no sign of Palm.
‘Morning.’ Deinon smiled at me. ‘Any plans for today?’
I shook my head. ‘I thought I’d just have a wander around the city and then do some practice,’ I told him.
‘Have you seen the Westmere Plaza?’ he asked.
‘No – I don’t even know what a plaza is! There certainly isn’t one in Mypocine.’
‘This whole district is called Westmere because of the nearby lake. A plaza is just a fancy name for a big flagged square, I think,’ he told me. ‘There’s a market at one end, and shops and cafés at the other. I could show you round if you like . . .’
‘That sounds good.’ I felt like Deinon and I were starting to become friends – I wished I’d thought of inviting him to do something today.
‘Shall we go straight after breakfast?’
Twenty minutes later we were out in the fresh air. There was a light breeze blowing and the sun was warm on my face. I’d been disappointed not to see Kwin at breakfast and I wondered where she’d be spending her Saturday. But I didn’t want to appear too interested in her, and instead asked Deinon, ‘What does Palm do on Saturdays?’
‘Oh, his family come and collect him and take him out for a big meal. He’s always boasting about the size of the steaks he wolfs down and the special sauce they’re smothered in.’
That was typical of Palm. I didn’t mind the fact that he’d been born into a wealthy family and had the best of everything. That was just the way things were – the luck of the draw. But I hated his air of superiority and constant bragging. However, now I made an effort to thrust him from my mind and concentrate on enjoying my day out.
‘This is certainly the best part of Gindeen,’ I observed. I’d spent my time in exile from Tyron’s on the other side of town, never venturing this way for fear of bumping into Palm or Deinon – or even Tyron himself – so it was all new to me. We were still amongst the flagged walkways and big houses, some of which even had small gardens planted with shrubs and budding flowers.
‘This is where the best artificers and the executives of the gambling houses live. Pyncheon has a house here, as do some of the richer merchants and farmers, for when they’re in town. Right – here we are,’ Deinon said as we turned a corner. ‘What do you think of that?’
We were facing what I guessed was the plaza. I’d never seen anything like it: a vast paved square, its four sides planted with trees. To the west there were scores of market stalls covered by coloured canopies that rippled in the breeze. To the east stood a line of shops, along with cafés with tables outside. And the whole place thronged with groups and couples talking or strolling in the sunshine. They were all very smartly dressed – no doubt in their best clothes. All I had was the ill-fitting shirt and trousers supplied by Tyron.
‘Let’s go and get a drink,’ suggested Deinon.
I felt the blood rush to my face. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t have any money,’ I told him.
‘That’s no problem. You can pay me back later. Or simply buy the drinks next time we come.’
‘Then I’ll need to get work of some sort. Is it possible to find a Saturday job here?’
‘Tyron wouldn’t want you working on Saturdays,’ Deinon said. ‘He thinks we should work hard all week and take that day to refresh ourselves. Besides, he’ll give you money on the last Friday of each month. Each trainee receives a small allowance.’
‘Tyron told me that, but I thought it would only be enough to cover basic things like clothes.’
‘It’s not a lot, but it’ll run to a few drinks and snacks. The clothes you got when you started are free – as well as your first pair of Trig boots – but after that you pay. So you’ll need to save some of it.’
Deinon led the way to what seemed the largest of the cafés and we sat down at a table in the warm sun, looking out at the throng of people gathered at the market stalls. Many tables around us were taken by young lads.
‘The trainees come here,’ Deinon explained. ‘This café caters for them, and so the prices are a bit lower.’
‘Do you know any of them?’ I asked.
‘I know some by name, but not to speak to. Most are in their second or third years. They don’t usually deign to speak to first-year novices like us.’
‘What about the first years who work for other artificers?’
‘You won’t see any of them here. For one thing they don’t get a day off. The one day they don’t train, their masters use them like servants for cleaning and doing odd jobs. Tyron is different. He’s a good artificer to work for. We’re well looked after.’
After a few minutes a young waitress approached the table and took our order. She was wearing a blue knee-length dress and a cute little white hat with a matching blue ribbon. She looked very smart, as did all the young people seated around us. I knew I stuck out like a sore thumb. I would certainly have to save my allowance for some new clothes. After paying Deinon back, that would be my priority.
We both ordered apple juice. Deinon asked for buttered scones; the thought of them made my mouth water, but I pretended I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t want to owe Deinon more than was necessary. So I sipped my juice while he tucked into his scone.
I could no longer resist asking about Kwin – though I tried to make my question sound casual.
‘What does Kwin do on Saturdays? She’s not around much during the week either. Has she got a job somewhere?’
‘During the week she works in Tyron’s office, helping with the administration and ordering provisions and equipment. I’m not sure what she’s doing today – often you find her sitting here. You see that guy at the table by the window . . .? That’s her boyfriend.’
My jaw dropped. The thought that she might have a boyfriend had never entered my head. She hadn’t mentioned him. My heart sank in disappointment.
14
The Red Boots
The different types of djinni are more numerous than the stars. But of all these, most deadly is the rogue djinni, no longer subservient to the wurde that shaped him.
Amabramsum: the Genthai Book of Wisdom
I gl
anced across and realized that I’d seen the young man before. He’d called out to Kwin on the night she’d taken me to the Wheel – but she’d ignored him. I told Deinon and he nodded.
‘Yes, they keep breaking up. She’s a girl who knows her own mind, that’s for sure! The only trouble is, she keeps changing it!’
Deinon took a sip of his juice and looked at me over the top of the glass as he did so. ‘Palm is crazy about Kwin.’
I was shocked. ‘I’d never have guessed!’
‘He’s wasting his time. Kwin and her boyfriend row a lot, but she always goes back to him. Besides, it wouldn’t be a good idea for one of Tyron’s trainees to get involved with his daughter, would it?’
I nodded carefully, hoping my feelings didn’t show on my face. ‘What happened when you fought her?’ I asked, changing the subject.
Deinon laughed. ‘She won the first two bouts so it didn’t need to go to a decider. I was well and truly beaten. I just couldn’t cope with her speed. Afterwards she said that I’d been boring. And she never knocked for me again! I don’t mind, though. In a way, it was a relief. She’s obsessed with fighting in the arena, even though she knows it’s impossible. It makes her angry and bitter.’
We sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping our juice. I looked around the plaza and reflected that this was a far cry from the rougher areas of Gindeen, with their muddy roads and rotting boardwalks.
‘Are you happy to be fighting from the min?’ Deinon asked me suddenly.
I nodded. ‘Yes, it’s what I really want. I could never see myself fighting behind three lacs.’
‘Fighting behind three – it offers a better chance of victory,’ said Deinon. ‘That would be my choice. You’d never have to face Hob! But you need a rich father to own three lacs; the min is a cheaper way to get started. I bet artificers like Tyron prefer it too. He’s got a big stable and needs to provide the lacs for beginners like us. Even if I asked to fight behind three lacs, I don’t think he’d let me.’
‘So you’re not happy?’ I asked.
‘I’ll just have to make the best of it. Some min combatants do well. Take Kern, for example – he’s got off to an amazing start this season, winning all ten of his early contests. Some say he’ll be the Arena 13 champion this year. I just don’t think I’ll ever be good enough to succeed from the min. I’d like to become a patterner.’
‘Are you good at patterning?’ I asked, surprised. ‘I find it really difficult.’
‘I have to work hard at it, but I’m making steady progress. You don’t often get praise from Tyron, but he said I’d made a very promising start to my studies.’
I smiled. ‘Then maybe you will become a patterner one day. You could end up in Tyron’s position – the most successful artificer in Gindeen with the largest stable of combatants!’
Deinon grinned at me happily. ‘I’d never really thought of having my own stable, but I’ll drink to that,’ he said, draining the last of his juice. ‘Do you want to see the lake? It’s not far. First I’ll go and find the waitress and pay.’
I smiled and thanked him again. I didn’t like owing money, but I liked Deinon and that made his generosity easier to accept.
After he had settled the bill, we walked along the row of shops. Suddenly Deinon halted before a large window filled with goods for sale.
‘This shop specializes in items for Arena 13,’ he told me.
On display were the jackets, shorts and boots worn by combatants, as well as blades and the leather belts with their two scabbards.
‘Most of this stuff is just replica, with the logos of the various stables; it’s intended for fans. It’s not the real thing: artificers like Tyron always use the city’s best artists to paint their logos. But look over there . . .’ Deinon pointed to the far side of the display. ‘Those second-hand items are aimed at new combatants – those just starting out on a low budget without the support of a stable. The logos have been removed and most of the boots are worn at the heel – all but one special pair.’
He didn’t need to tell me which one. All the boots were made of black or brown leather – all except one pair, which was red.
‘You mean the red boots!’ I exclaimed.
Deinon smiled. ‘Yes – they look brand new, apart from the soles. On the night she first knocked for me, Kwin told me about those boots. She’d tried them on and they were a perfect fit, but Tyron wouldn’t buy them for her. He told her that she’s got enough crazy ideas spinning around inside her head and he wasn’t going to indulge her any further. They’re incredibly expensive. There’s no way she can find that kind of money.
‘Palm plans to buy those boots for her at the end of the season. His father has promised him a lot of money if he wins the TT. Not that it’ll make any difference, of course. I don’t think she’d even accept them from him.’
I didn’t like the idea of Palm giving Kwin such a present and I hoped Deinon was right – that even if he tried, she would refuse it. I wished I could buy her those boots. It wouldn’t change her feelings towards me – she already had a boyfriend – but it would make her happy. However, it was impossible and I thrust the thought out of my head.
We carried on to the end of the plaza, then continued through tree-lined streets to the grassy slope that led up to the lake. It was large and oval in shape, its calm waters reflecting the blue of the sky; rowing boats were tethered to a wooden jetty. The houses stopped here; beyond it I could see a wood. We could have been in the middle of nowhere, and suddenly, for the first time since arriving in Gindeen, I felt a sense of real peace.
Deinon and I walked clockwise around the lake in companionable silence, then settled down on the grass beside a small stream that was one of its two tributaries.
‘Did you go to school in Mypocine?’ Deinon asked me. ‘I noticed one of your papers on Kern’s desk – your handwriting is very neat. He’s always complaining that mine is almost illegible.’
I’d not talked much about my life before arriving in Gindeen. ‘Our farm was too far from the town,’ I told him. ‘My mother used to teach me.’
‘She must have been a clever woman. Here there are Saturday schools that some of the farm kids attend. Our farm’s quite close to Gindeen, so that’s how I got my education. It was hard to keep up because there was lots of homework. I had to do mine after working a full day on the farm. Of course, Palm had a private tutor – only the best for him.’
I nodded. Everything had been easy for Palm. We sat in silence for a few moments, staring at the lake and enjoying the sunshine.
‘You wouldn’t think this was the same city,’ I observed. ‘The districts around the slaughterhouse and the Wheel are totally different.’
‘Yes, this is where rich people live. I’d like to buy a house here one day,’ Deinon mused. ‘Anyway, do you fancy rowing out onto the lake for a bit? It’s cheap and I’ll pay.’
As we headed towards the jetty, I heard a shout. We were too far away for me to hear the words, but the tone told me that something was badly wrong.
A small crowd had gathered where the boats were moored; everyone was staring down at the water. As we approached, I shivered. The breeze had strengthened and all of a sudden it seemed colder.
‘Oh no!’ cried Deinon. He’d spotted what the people were staring at. A second later I caught up with him and, with a sick feeling in my stomach, saw a body floating face-down in the lake.
Close beside it a man was struggling to lift it out of the water, but it was too heavy for him.
‘Help me!’ he cried, but the crowd just stared; nobody made a move.
I wanted to help and was about to start running when Deinon raced ahead of me and splashed into the lake. I followed, the cold water making me gasp. The body was stiff and water-logged, making it really awkward, but somehow we dragged it up onto the bank. Then we rolled it over.
It was the body of a young woman – probably no more than twenty, her face a ghastly white. The man rolled her onto her stomach again, t
urned her head to one side and began pressing her back rhythmically as the crowd closed in to watch.
Water gushed from the girl’s mouth in spurts, and I was filled with a sudden hope that he had brought her back to life. But she didn’t respond any further, and finally he stopped and shook his head.
What had happened? Had she fallen from one of the boats? Or did her pale face mean that she had been in the water for some time?
I shivered again and glanced up as a cloud covered the sun. Deinon caught my eye and shook his head sadly.
I heard gasps, and somebody screamed. Forcing my eyes back to the girl, I saw what had triggered the reaction: two deep purple wounds on her neck.
‘She’s been drained of blood,’ Deinon whispered.
In a split second the crowd around the girl’s body had dispersed, running down the slope towards the nearest houses and the plaza beyond them. As the man who’d been trying to resuscitate her passed by, I saw the panic in his eyes.
‘We need to get out of here now!’ Deinon snapped. He looked terrified as he stared up the slope towards the trees.
I looked at him questioningly.
‘Hob killed her, and now the tassels will come for the body,’ he explained.
‘What? They’ll come now – this minute?’
‘Maybe now – certainly within the hour. They probably have a spy hiding up there in the trees. People have fled and the area is deserted. So they’ll be here soon – you can be sure of that. Let’s get away before it’s too late!’
Without another word, he hurried off down the hill; I followed hot on his heels.
When we reached the first row of houses, I caught up with him and put my hand on his shoulder. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Back to Tyron’s. It’ll be safer there. Everybody will be heading home to lock and bar their doors. We need to do the same.’
‘I’m going to stay,’ I told him. ‘I’d like to see what the tassels look like.’
Deinon’s face showed instantly what he thought about this. ‘It’s dangerous, Leif. Far too risky. If they see you watching, they might take you too. The sensible thing is to get away from here.’
Arena 13 Page 10
