A Dragon Born

by Jordan Baker

  The swordfighter dodged just in time, but a piece of the axe blade caught the side of her head and tore a deep gash in the cloth around her head and cut through to her scalp beneath it. The sword fighter stumbled as blood flowed from the wound, soaking down her shoulder and matting down her robes, which became dark and clung to her. She tried to continue fighting, but it soon became clear that the axe wielder had her at a disadvantage, from the blood loss and the fact that her vision had been obscured by the cloth wrappings that had been torn and had fallen over her eye. She struggled to defend herself from her opponent's relentless barrage of attacks, which prevented her from adjusting the wrappings and, a few moments later, the man caught her in the sword arm with his axe and she fell to her knees ground, no longer able to lift her blade. The man with the axes brought them both down to within a hair of her neck, but stopped short of killing her.

  Aaron saw Lento walk out to the circle and bow to the man with the two axes. The crowd cheered for the victor and he held his axes high to their applause then walked from the arena through a gate underneath the stands. Lento walked over to look at the other fighter, who remained on her knees then he motioned for the healers to come and collect her. Aaron rose from his seat and wandered over an open area at the bottom of the stands next to the wall that overlooked the arena floor. A group of men and women sat at small tables, handling the many bets that were placed on the fights. As he approached the betting tables, Aaron saw disappointed faces walking away, while others were smiling, having lost or won their respective bets.

  "Care to make a wager, sir?" one of the women asked.

  "No, thank you," Aaron replied. "The betting tables are not very busy."

  "It is early still," she said. "There are many wagers to be made."

  Aaron did not know much about how the betting worked, but Carly had explained some of it to him when they were at Forsina. From what he could remember, there were different kinds of wagers and some could be made before the fight and some during the fight. People would even bet on details, like how many cuts a fighter would receive from an opponent or how long a fight might last. The wagers that were placed between people could be as complicated as people wanted them to be. He had overheard several people discussing a wager earlier then saw them leave their coin with the people at the tables and those who won returned to collect their winnings. It appeared that those who worked the tables provided the service to anyone who wished to make a wager.

  "Since you are not busy at the moment, may I ask you about the matches here at the warrior's palace?"

  "Of course," the woman said. "What would you like to know?"

  "I am curious how you know who the favorites are? How do you decide the odds?"

  She smiled and held up a thin book.

  "This is the register of Ba'shan. All of the fighters who have ever fought in the circles are written here. The registers tell many things about their fights, both past and present. That is how we decide who are the favorites then we decide what their chances might be."

  "All of the fighters? I would think that book should be a lot thicker."

  "Yes. The register works by magic. See, it has no pages." The woman opened the book and Aaron saw that it was only a cover. He was curious about how the magic might work, but he did not want to use his power to find out.

  "How can it show all the fighters, if it has no pages?"

  "You need only think of the fighters who will fight and the book will show them, one on each side. The pages tell the story of each fighter and what battles they have fought and we decide who the favorites are."

  "Do you know who created the books?" Aaron asked, his curious piqued because something about them reminded him of the book of the priesthood.

  "No," she said with a shrug. "Perhaps you can ask Lento. He is the master of the warrior palace. He knows many things I do not."

  "Thank you," Aaron said, then he paused for a moment. "What does the register say about Kasha?"

  "Kasha?" The woman smiled. "Kasha is a very fine warrior, one of the champions. Many times a king of Ba'shan, with many supporters." She opened the book. "Kasha is always a favorite to win and has never lost a match in the circles and has only drawn once."

  "Only once?" Aaron said.

  "Yes." She glanced at the other page and Aaron caught a glimpse of it filling words and pictures. "At Forsina, Kasha fought to a draw against a fighter named Antal."

  The woman looked at him oddly and held up the book to show him and he saw that each page held an image that was more than just a drawn representation, but appeared to be a living, moving image. The picture of Kasha, which was only of her head and shoulders, showed her wearing her usual head wrappings, and sitting somewhere dark, with firelight flickering in her eyes and she looked much as Aaron remembered her, but the image on the other page was somewhat disconcerting. Aaron felt like he was looking in a mirror, for underneath the name that was written on the page in black coal, exactly the way he had written it on the stone at Forsina, was an image of him, standing exactly where he stood now, with the busy stands of the warriors' palace behind him.

  "You are Antal of Ashford," said the woman. "You have favorable odds, though some of my fellow registers debate this for Kasha did not fight you the way that Kasha is known to fight. It was very curious and there was much talk about your match because of it. Tell me, Antal, do you intend to enter the fights?"

  "How is it possible that this book can see me?" Aaron asked, more concerned about not being found than hearing gossip about his time at Forsina. He knew it should not be possible for him to be seen by magic, since he still had the ward that Stavros showed him how to create.

  "The register only sees the fighters when they are at the circles. You are at the circles, so the register sees you," the woman laughed. "Many fighters have asked about this. They worry that we registers can see them with their lovers or use the registers to follow them or trick them, but the registers only see fighters when they are near the circles."

  Aaron breathed a sigh of relief at the woman's explanation of the register books, but he was still concerned about how they worked.

  "What does the book show when a fighter is not at the circles?" he asked.

  "It shows the last vision," the woman said. "Until this morning, your image was frozen in time, a moment from Forsina and you did not dress as you do now."

  "So, if the image is moving, then the person is at the circles?"

  "Yes, though it is not known which circle. If you were to visit any of the circles the register would sense you."

  "Is there any way to be removed from the register?"

  "I do not know. No one has ever asked me that question," the woman said, looking at him strangely. "Perhaps you should ask Lento."

  "One more question," Aaron said.

  "Yes?"

  "Will Kasha fight in the circles of Ba'shan tonight?"

  The woman closed the book then opened it again and Aaron could see that the pages had changed.

  "I do not see a match with Kasha, no."

  "Thank you for your help," Aaron said and the woman nodded as he turned and walked away through the stands.

  Aaron found his way down a flight of stone steps to a passage underneath the stands that led to the arena floor. The entrance was guarded by several Ba'shane warriors and another register, who opened the book as Aaron approached and motioned to the guards to let him through. Aaron nodded at them politely and entered the arena and walked along the lowered pathway that ran around its perimeter, glancing up at the stands, wondering if Kasha might be somewhere at the warrior's palace. As much as he wanted to be left alone and did not want to think about all the problems with magic and goddesses, the last few days at Ba'shan had been somewhat lonely and, even if things did not end up involving a bed of cushions and entangled bodies like they had at Forsina, Aaron felt his spirits uplifted at the thought of seeing the warrior woman again.

  He watched Lento conclude another match then return to his place
near the entrance to the passage to the fighters' quarters and wandered over to where he stood, observing the matches.

  "Antal," Lento said, smiling at Aaron. "Have you reconsidered entering the circles?"

  "Lento, I think I would prefer to watch," Aaron told him. "I am curious about the register books. Could you tell me about them?"

  "What would you like to know?"

  "They appear to work like magic," Aaron said. "Do you know who made them?"

  "The registers are very old," Lento said. "It is said they were created by the king of the sky, the watcher of all things, the knower of all things."

  "Does this king of the sky have another name, perhaps one used by the people of the north?"

  "Ah, yes," Lento said. "I believe your people call him by the name of Stroma. He is worshiped as a god in your land, yes?"

  "He was," Aaron said. "Do the people of the desert not consider Stroma to be one of the gods?"

  Lento laughed. "You do not know Ansari."

  While it was not a clear answer, it appeared to Aaron that the Ansari did not follow the gods, and yet it seemed that one of the gods had created the registers.

  "Stroma made the registers but isn't a god?"

  "How can I explain?" Lento said, then he held up his finger. "I will return." He headed out to the arena floor to conclude another match that had ended.

  Aaron waited as an extremely large man was dragged from the arena on a wooden skid and down the passage to the fighters' quarters, while Ansari healers worked their magic on him, trying to staunch the blood that flowed out of numerous deep gashes. Aaron looked out over the many matches in the circles and saw that the fights were becoming more violent as increasingly powerful opponents were matched up against one another. He saw Lento preside over the start of another fight then the man returned to where Aaron waited for him.

  "I think we will begin to see some fallen warriors soon," Lento said. "It is always the way with the most powerful fighters. Only a few have the skill to triumph without killing their opponent."

  "If someone has already won the matches in the circles and become a king," Aaron asked, "what would be the purpose in entering again? What more is to be gained? A person cannot eat and drink double or stay in two rooms at the same time."

  "Ah, yes. No doubt you have been told of how the winners no longer need worry for food and drink and may live in the city without cost. That is a convenience afforded by the warriors' temple to our champions, to the kings of the circles. But there is another prize, that is known only to the kings."

  "So the only way I get to find out is if I enter the fights and become a champion of Ba'shan?"

  "Yes," Lento said. "There are some secrets that must be earned. Will you enter the circles?"

  "I have no need of prizes," Aaron said.

  "As you wish. You are a champion of Forsina, with a draw against Kasha. That is very honorable so perhaps that is enough for you."

  "Could you tell me about the registers?" Aaron asked, reminding Lento of their earlier conversation. "You said Stroma made the registers, but was not a god."

  "I did not say that, Antal. Now you are putting words in my mouth," Lento said, smiling at Aaron, though he thought he detected a note of irritation in the man's voice. "Your people think of Stroma as a god, there are several of them in your culture, if I remember, but we do not have this word. Stroma exists, but we do not worship Stroma. Do you understand better?"

  "Maybe," Aaron said, not sure if what the man had told him was of any help. Either way, it was useful to know that Stroma was supposedly the one who made the register books. "I still have much to learn if I am to know Ansari."

  "Ah yes," Lento said with a grin. "To know Ansari is to be Ansari."

  "I have not heard that expression before," Aaron told him. "What does it mean?"

  "You have many questions, Antal. I wish you the luck of the wind that the answers you seek will find you."

  "All right, Lento," Aaron said. "Thank you for telling me a few things."

  "Of course. Ask me what you wish to know. If I can tell you, I will." Lento smiled at him again, and Aaron was pretty sure that he was done answering questions. He was reminded of something that the pirate, Malek had said about the Ansari, that they often smiled on the outside.

  Aaron turned when he saw a bright flash in one of the circles. The crowd cheered loudly as two sword fighters circled one another. One was a tall man with long, black hair, and the other a woman, who Aaron recognized as the sparring partner of the woman who had been cut in the face a short while ago. They walked slowly around the circle, their swords each held in one hand while their other hands conjured mage fire. The man with the long hair hurled a ball of fire at the woman, who leapt out of the way and sent a blast of fire back at him. The man rolled to the ground, dodging the flames but the woman leapt at him, her sword crackling with energy as it streaked toward his head. The man raise his sword to block but the energy from the woman's blade ran through his sword and he yelled in pain as every muscle and sinew in his body tightened in pain. The woman kicked the man in the chest, sending him flying to the dirt and she leapt at him, stabbing the point of her blade downward toward his neck. He rolled out of the way at the last second, avoiding what would have been a killing blow.

  "Fighters in the circles use magic?" Aaron asked.

  "You really do not know Ansari," Lento said, shaking his head.

  "There are many things I do not know," Aaron told him, "but I am trying to learn. None of the fighters at Forsina used magic. I did not know it was permitted in the circles."

  "Oh yes," Lento said. "It is not common in the circles like Forsina that border on the northern and western lands. The people in such places who have such powers that you call magic do not often become warriors. They are called mages, or priests, yes?"

  Aaron thought about it and he realized it was true. In Maramyr, at least, mages were mages and soldiers were soldiers, though he had read some histories about kings and other important heroes who were warriors and also commanded magic. He supposed that he could do the same if he were willing to use his power, but it was strange for him to see sword fighters dueling in the circles and using magic.

  He was distracted from the match by a commotion in the passageway to the warriors' quarters. A group of desert people emerged, carrying long staves and pushing and prodding at something, or someone, Aaron was not quite sure. The creature looked like some kind of lizard as it lay on the dirt where it had fallen, with its tail curled around it as it tucked its arms and legs in and huddled in a ball on the ground. One of the men struck the creature on its back and Aaron thought he saw some kind of magical energy come from the end of the staff, which was tipped with steel. The creature writhed and crawled forward toward he arena and away from the men with the long staves and Aaron saw that it was almost human and from the looks of its body, it was female.

  "Why do you make such trouble?" one of the men yelled at her. "You will fight!"

  "I don't want to. Please don't make me," the creature said, curling her arms around her and trying to cover herself as she glanced around at the stands filled with people, cheering on the fights that were ongoing in the circles.

  One of the men held something out to her and whatever it was, it immediately had her attention. It was as though she had forgotten about the crowds and the staves the men carried and she pushed herself to her feet and walked toward him, her eyes never leaving what was in his hand. Her hand moved astonishingly fast as she snatched at it but it looked like the man was expecting her to try for it. He pulled his hand away and the others moved in with their staves, keeping her at bay.

  "You want this?" the man asked, shaking his hand, and when the sleeve of his robe slid from his hand for a moment, Aaron glimpsed what he already suspected the man might be holding. It was a glass vial of blue liquid that glowed and shimmered as he dangled it in front of the creature.

  "Give it to me," she said with a sharp aggression in her voice that contras
ted with the helpless tone she had only moments ago.

  "You will get it when you win the fight," the man said. The creature frowned and stared at the ground.

  "I don't want to fight anymore," she said. "I never wanted to fight. Please, just give it to me."

  "You want it, you fight," the man told her then he pointed. "Now go!"

  The girl sighed and stuck out her lip, pouting much like the way Aaron had seen a few of the girls do at Ashford when he was a boy. She looked up at the man and her frown thinned as she hissed at him, then she turned and slowly began walking toward the empty circle that awaited her.

  "Who or what is that?" Aaron asked Lento, who had just returned from seeing to the end of another match. Lento pulled a register book from his robes and opened it.

  "Ah, yes," he said, excitedly. "That is a fighter called Lexi. This will be a special match at the request of the traders who hold the fighting contract."

  "What is special about the match?"

  "The traders have offered a very large prize of gold to any fighter who can kill the creature and it is an open circle."

  "What is an open circle?"

  "It means any fighter can enter."

  "More than one?"

  "Yes. It is a very special match. There are often very large wagers on such matches once the fight begins."

  "Why would they do that?" Aaron asked. "Why would they make it a fight to the death?"

  Lento shrugged. "I do not know. They hold the contract of the fighter. Besides, many of the fights in the circle end in death. It is often the way of things when steel meets flesh."

  Aaron was angry about what the traders were doing. He remembered at Forsina when the traders had offered him potions that they said would make him faster and stronger and what Malek told him about what those potions did to the fighters, making them into slaves. When Malek had explained how the traders made their contracts, Aaron did not give it much thought at the time, but he now realized that it would not be difficult to force someone to make a contract if they were desperate for another potion the way the creature named Lexi appeared to be.