Once I stripped off my armor and washed I felt like a new man. I took my time getting dressed again. I was standing in front of a mirror when Jasmin spoke, "You don't have to keep going. You have no idea how afraid I was watching you today. I have lost both my parents, I could not stand to lose you as well." I turned and looked at her and said that I was just having fun with the man I fought. That he wasn't much of a challenge. It was in part the truth. I was having fun during the bout. I think I enjoyed it a little too much. I did not take things as serious as I should have. Salazar put up a good fight but if he was a better fighter I might not have walked away as clean as I did. I needed to approach these fights as something that could kill me. A lot of men died on that arena floor the first day. I could have been one of them. I told myself and Jasmin that I would be smarter about it. Treat the fights just as I would a fight in the field.
We talked a bit more about me taking things a bit more seriously after I got dressed and then headed down stairs to eat. Just as I opened the door, there stood Pare about to knock. I asked him where he went off to. "Oh just went to see Cynthia. She told me to come find her after you fought. She wanted me to tell you that the next guy you are going to fight is a bit crazy. Then I went to place a bet for Hetaron, he gave me a bunch of gold. He thinks you will win the next fight and after today the odds are against you." Believe it or not, I wasn't shocked to learn that the wizard was making bets on me. He was a rich man, all things being equal yet he craved gold. Even more than I did in those days. I told him we were going to eat dinner and he said he would be down soon. Pare never missed dinner if he could help it.
The inn keeper told us to take the back corner table, it was away from everything else but it gave us a chance to dine in peace. That was when I saw him for the first time. He was an older man, a slender frame but well built. Close cropped red hair and beard with a face that only a mother could love. He looked around the room a time or two, pausing on me each time. He took a table close to us and ordered a bottle of rum. Sitting there with one foot on the table, the other on the floor he watched Jasmin and I while drinking the bottle down a mouth full at a time. I figure he had half the bottle gone by the time he started to talk. "Enjoying your meal pup?" I swallowed the food in my mouth and set my fork down, the knife however stayed in my hand. "I hope it is as good as it looks. Being the last time you will get a nice supper with your little tart there." The grip on my knife grew just a little tighter as he leaned backwards in his chair. "I figure by this time tomorrow you will be headed back north. Either dead or with your tail between your legs. But don't you worry pup, I will take real good care of your little tart. We are going to have a real good time, her and I."
Every word out of his mouth made me a just a little bit hotter. No weapon and no armor other than my belt. I thought about picking up the table we were at and beating him with it when I saw Pare had come up behind him. Pare had stopped just behind the man as he was talking. When he at last understood that he was talking about Jasmin, he could not be stopped. He first jumped into a chair and then to the table the red haired man was sitting at. Before the man could react, Pare jumped on his with both feet taking the man and his chair the rest of the way over to the floor. I jumped up over the table to help my friend, as I was moving towards them I saw the flash of steel. Pare was squatting down on the floor over the man’s head with his knife pressed against the red haired man’s neck. "You sheep loving pile of cat puke, you are not fit to breath the same air as my friends. You even so much as look at her cross again, it will be the last thing you see."
I was shocked at the anger in Pare's voice and yet at the same time oddly touched. I do not know what I did to ever earn such loyalty but it isn't something you can buy. No, you cannot buy Pare's respect or friendship. It is something you must earn. I asked him once in passing a few years ago, why he is still with me, why he still hangs around. "We have fun together" was all he told me. I could hear the inn keeper screaming, heading for the front door of the inn, screaming for the guards. I told Pare to let him up and to take Jasmin back to our room. As quick as it came out, his knife was hidden again. As he went over to Jasmin he said "that’s him Darmot, his name is Norris. He is the one you are fighting tomorrow." I looked down at the man on the floor and shook my head. He started to lift himself up and I pushed him back down with my foot.
"You have made a grave mistake here today my friend. Trying to goad me into a fight or scare me off. You were trying to get an early victory over a man with no weapon or armor. I killed a man today that had honor. Something you would not understand. Tomorrow when I see you I will give you one chance to walk away. Pass that up and not only will I kill you, I will make you will suffer."
33. Warrior
I woke up early the next morning and headed to the arena with Hetaron. My mood had not improved at all during my night’s sleep. I knew I had to get my anger under control or it would get the best of me. Hetaron on the other hand seemed to be in a grand mood that day. When I asked him why he seemed so happy he talked to me as he did when we first met. Before the war and our titles were granted. "I had a good night. I have been doing research on how to make a soul jar. Very powerful magic item, should anything ever happen to me, my soul would be safe. I have found the perfect gem, large diamond that cost me close to ten thousand gold. Some of the things I need are still beyond my skill but soon I will have unlocked all the secrets. I have taken my first step towards becoming immortal. Even if my body is destroyed, the gem will protect my soul until a new body can be found or mine is restored. I cannot do the magic today but one day, one day soon."
I still get chills today thinking about the things he told me that day. Could he do it, would he become immortal? Was he ever able to do such a thing, I do not know. I just told him I was glad for him. Not knowing the darkness behind the creation of such an item. At the time I just figured it was a worthwhile pursuit for the dark mage. "Long ago there was another wizard who lived in this area. Well settled here is more like it. His name was Argon, he sought a way to lengthen his life in order to live alongside his elf bride. I was able to find some of his work, not all of it and some of it is beyond me still. I looked for other things of his but the trail ran cold. I assume he killed himself in the process or ended up as a lich. Still, it was a good find." Hetaron in these days was less and less the man I knew and more of something else altogether. I just tried to enjoy the times he was his old self. I was still too young and foolish to see the signs hanging in front of my eyes.
Outside of the arena entrance I saw Hans speaking with another man. He was a bit taller than I with a full head of fire red hair flying back in the wind. I called out to Hans as we approached and he waved, "Good morning Darmot. I assume you are ready for today?" I shook my head and embraced him as a brother. This was not normal for us but the mile wide grin on his face made me feel good. I then turned towards the man he was speaking with and held out my hand, introducing myself. "So, ye're tha one tha Hans tole me aboot. 'Elluva shoe ye poot on yestuhday, glahd tah meet ye." This was not the final time I had been assaulted by the thick accent of Zackary Red Beard. Zackary was a good man and a fine warrior. When it dawned on me that this is the man Hans had been talking to me about since we had met, I was stunned. I remembered back to the day those heroes came home. Seeing this man before me bringing home the missing children. The weight of it all came full circle on me. This man was a hero, not just in deed but in his soul.
He made another comment that if we were to meet up, he would take it easy on me. I stood there in stunned silence shaking his hand. Did fate have some hand in me meeting him on this day. I do not know but I will say this. I am a better man for knowing him. Zackary had seen loss and pain that I had never known yet he still carried on. He not only carried on, he did it with a smile on his face. Not that he was the smartest man I knew but there was hidden wisdom behind those green eyes. We stood and talked for a while longer when he pulled out a small flask and asked me if I wanted a nip. I just
shook my head and laughed. There are many days I will never forget in this life, the day I came face to face with Zackary Red Beard is one of them.
When I arrived in the arena for my fight the house was full. There was only one section that was empty, the private box set aside for the king. Darius would only attend the final day. The crowd was screaming out to the two people up on the platform. Myself and Hetaron climbed up into the stands to see the action. A pour soul who's name I do not remember was fighting Cynthia. She wore light, form fitting plate armor with a short sword and shield. She was fighting another man who I did not know. She was quick, reflexes were very good. Yet she was much smaller than the man she was fighting. She used her speed to keep out of his reach and then made him pay for every opening he presented to her. I was impressed but I could tell she was not used to fighting with the shield. She used it well but it wasn't something she was accustomed to. Soon the boos started to rain down from the crowd in the arena as the poor man hobbled away. Cynthia had just made a man twice her size run from the ring.
Hetaron put his hand on my shoulder and said in my ear, "It is time." We returned to the arena floor making our way to our side of the platform. We passed Cynthia along the way, she tried to say something to me but I only remember telling her, "not now." I started to block it all out. The people, the arena and everything else around me. I remember Hans being there just before I took to the steps, I remember a black shape next to me, it was either Hetaron or the specter of death. I don’t remember having my name called. I don’t remember hearing the roar of the crowd. All I saw was Norris. He looked just the same as the night before. He gave me a half bow and a mock salute. I called out to him, "this is your chance. Run now, never set your path in front of mine again. This is your only chance." Never let it be said that I do not do my best to keep my word. Even if sometimes the gods demand I fail, as Hans would tell me, "it keeps me humble."
I watched his stone like face break into a sneer as he spit on the floor. "Come get yer whippin pup." I recall laying in bed the night before this. My anger if given shape would have been a flame, red hot and out of control. Now as I stood before the man who caused it, I focused it all on him. A single flame, controlled yet white hot. Ready to do my bidding, ready to obey my command. Norris was a skilled fighter, I will give him that much but it was not enough. Not on that day. I let him come to me. He tried to barrel in, in order to overpower me. I stood my ground, he could not move me. We stood there for some time, trading blows. Each tasting the others blood. I felt no pain, only the flame of hate. Not wanting to waste any more time I made my move to push him towards the center of the platform.
Bashing my shield into his made him back up. I wanted him in the center of the ring for one reason alone. So when he felt the heat upon his skin, he would not be able to run. That was when I let him have a taste of my full strength. I feigned a blow in order to get him to raise his shield, when he did I took it. Not with my hands but with my sword I struck it down the middle, cleaving it in two. The wooden shield held together with six strips of banded iron fell to the floor now in a dozen pieces. That is the first time I saw it, that look on his face. He knew then that he had made a mistake. Kicking aside what was left of his shield he held up his sword and tried to continue. Each time he attacked from then on, I turned him away. I would not let him past my guard. I waited for the right moment. I was waiting for that one wild lunge, every desperate fighter tries. They all try to sink his blade into the gut of a man who just won't stop.
When it came I was ready, I had known what I was going to do from the moment his shield shattered under my blow. I watched as he thrust his arm forward and saw the look on his face as I started to turn my body away from the blade so it would just pass me by. I then saw the look of horror on his face as I dropped my own shield to grip his arm. Holding him by the wrist, I brought the pommel of my sword down on his arm as Boris would bring his hammer down on a bar of red hot steel. Pare told me later that night that everyone in the arena heard his arm break. I then pushed Norris over onto his side, watching as he once again got to his feet. He knew he was a beaten man yet he picked up his sword again with his other arm. A good warrior, a smart warrior will learn to fight with both hands. Force his self to master the blade with both sides of his body. Norris may have been a good fighter, but he was not a warrior and he was most certainly not very smart.
I never bothered to pick my shield up again. He was finished but could not accept it yet. He kept trying to attack me. That was when I started to beat him. Each time he would get close to me I would punch him with my left hand. Soon his face was swollen, bloody and broken. I could no longer stand the sight of him. I gave him one last swing at me which I easily turned aside. That is when I took his hand. Just below the wrist, my blade sliced clean through the bone. There was no disguising his agony as he fell to his knees. Clutching at the bloody stump where his hand once was, Norris tried to crawl to the edge of the platform. It was then that I ran up behind him, grabbed him from behind and said these words to him. "You have until the sun sets to get as far away from here as possible. If you are still in town after dark, may the gods have mercy on your soul because I will let my little friend have you." I then pushed him away from me towards the stairs. I saw Norris once more after that day, many months later, many miles away. Had you asked me that day in the arena why I had let him live I don’t know if I would have been able to tell you. Perhaps I hoped he would see the gift that I gave him and be thankful for that. If nothing else he should have been thankful for one little thing. That I was able to keep Pare drinking long enough for him to get out of town.
34. Blood and Tears
The little halfling was trying to be patient. Every roar from the crowd reminded him that he had drunk too much ale the night before. Still he took it all and tried to ignore the pain of a thousand red hot pokers jammed into his brain. His friend was counting on him, to be right here. Pare would not let him down. He would do as Darmot asked, stay with his wife Jasmin, until after he fought in the arena. He looked up to her face and could see the worry. Pare never believed that Darmot was in danger. Darmot was a brave and skilled warrior. No, Pare never believed that there was any danger at all. Had you asked the little halfling, the only thing in danger right at that moment was his self. He was sure his head was going to split open from the pain at any moment.
"Oh look Pare, I think your lady friend is going to win again." Pare pulled his hands away from his face and looked down at the arena floor. He let a faint smile form on his face while seeing Cynthia standing there in the center of the platform, her sword held high over her head. The large red headed man she had been fighting was making his way down the stairs the best he could with a dagger sticking out of his leg. There were two men in white robes waiting for him, helping him. One of them Pare knew well, Hans of North Hembers. The other he did not know at all but he was a friend of Hans so that made him ok in Pare's book. As the crowd continued to roar for the female victor, poor Pare could only hold his hands over his ears.
Trying to keep the sounds at bay, Pare looked down at the floor again, it wouldn't be long now. While Hans friends walked out of the arena while he stayed behind. Darmot was next, Pare asked the gods for it to end quick so he could go back to his room at the inn for some much needed sleep. Just as Pare thought that the crowd was going to be sympathetic to his pain, they began to cheer again. Jasmin jumped up with the rest of the crowd to cheer for her husband who had just walked into the arena. Pare looked down to see Hans, clapping his hands waiting for Darmot. Behind him walked Hetaron the wizard, dressed in a silken black robe with the hood over his head trying to keep the sun out of his eyes. Something about the image bothered Pare, seeing the mage follow Darmot like that. It gave him an uneasy feeling deep in his stomach. It was a feeling that had nothing to do with the hangover.
The people here loved Darmot. He was from Eystlund, born and raised. Yet he left home, came back a couple years later an Arcadian Lord, a real war hero. H
e showed the common man that the dream was possible. That with hard work and just a little bit of luck, you could do anything. Pare laughed at their talk there in the stands. There were no stories about how Pare saved his life. How Pare killed an evil wizard all by himself. How Pare was turned into a dragon and fought an entire army at all at once. How Pare was able kill a red dragon, once again saving every one's life. Everything was about Darmot but in the end, Pare didn't mind. Darmot was his friend and he was fine with that. Not too many people trusted Pare but Darmot did.
"He is fighting an Orc?" Jasmin said as she slapped her hand down on Pare's little leg. He looked up at her face and watched the color drain away. He then looked down at the platform and saw the Orc named Mangosh.
"Well, I don't know if I have ever seen one that big before."
"A big what Pare?" Jasmin said giving the little halfling a shake.
"The Orc, he has to be the biggest one I have ever seen." Pare was also amazed at how green his skin was. Mangosh was favored to win, might even win the whole tournament. Not that anyone believed he would beat Rogar the Terrible. He was the champion from the year before and from what people told Pare no one even challenged him. A lot of the local folks were hoping for a new champion this year. Someone they could relate to, not some blasted Orc like Mangosh or even a bastard like Rogar. Pare looked back to the Orc ready to face off against his friend. When he saw the Orc had a string of human ears around his neck Pare felt the bile rise in the back of his mouth.
Death Or Fortune Page 13
