by Philip Blood
Aerin watched the slow and stiff way Lor was moving.
“Please don’t take this wrong, but I don’t think you are in good enough shape to navigate the high road right now,” Aerin noted apologetically.
Lor scowled, but nodded, “You’re right, I don’t know if I could make the jumps. We’ll have to try and find another wagon moving in our direction, and hitch a ride.”
“All right, let’s get off this main street before one of those boneheads spots us.”
Lor smiled, “Boneheads?”
“Skull… Bonehead,” Aerin explained with a grin.
“I think we’re close to the Arena, Skulls Town has moved a little that way recently. If we head for the Arena we should be out of danger when we get there. No gangs hold that area, it’s no-mans-land,” Lor explained. “Head up that alley over there, it should cut through to Hemlar Street, which leads to Arena Square.”
Just as Aerin and Lor reached the mouth of the alley, they heard a yell down the street behind them.
“Gedin’s breath, they spotted us,” Lor swore. “Let’s run for it, quick!”
They headed down the alley at the fastest pace Lor could manage. Within a block, she was panting and wincing from the pain in her side. As they rounded the corner of the alley onto Hemlar Street, they found a boy about their age holding a staff before them.
Aerin jumped in front of the panting Lor and swung his quarterstaff into position.
The boy in front of them had a single long braid of hair that hung far down his back. His own staff blurred into motion in response to Aerin’s attack positioning.
Knowing that the other pursuit was not far behind, Aerin pressed the attack.
The other boy’s quarterstaff met Aerin’s in a solid block. Within seconds, their staffs had spun, hit and parried a host of times. Aerin couldn’t believe it, but he felt overmatched. Soon he was on the defensive. Then the already tired Aerin missed a block and the other boy’s staff swept his feet out from under him, and Aerin landed on his back on the cobblestones. The end of the boy’s staff ended up at his throat ready to jab forward. Aerin considered trying to swing his own staff around to knock it aside, but he knew from his battle that this boy was an expert with a quarterstaff.
“Katek!” A deep male voice barked out, “what are you doing attacking that boy?”
The youth above Aerin answered. "He attacked me, Temmen, I was just defending myself.”
Aerin puzzled over this for a moment.
Lor spoke from behind him, “You aren’t part of the Skulls?”
“No,” the boy answered. “What’s that?"
Aerin replayed the start of their battle through his memory, and realized that he instigated the attack; he had just assumed this armed boy was one of their pursuers.
“I’m sorry, we are being attacked by a gang around these streets, they were pursuing us, and I thought you were one of them,” Aerin said from the street.
The staff suddenly swung away, and the boy named Katek replaced it with his open hand to help Aerin to his feet.
“No harm then, and I’m sorry I dropped you to the stones,” the boy said as Aerin arrived at his feet.
“No, it is my error, I’m just glad I didn’t injure you.”
The man who had spoken stepped forward. He, too, had a large braid of hair down his back and carried a staff. “Then you won’t press charges with the city guard?”
“Of course not!” Aerin answered.
A group of ten Skulls gang members ran out of the alley at that moment.
“There they are!” A boy in the lead yelled.
Aerin spun to face his enemies.
The large man put his hand on Aerin’s shoulder as he said, “Let me handle this.”
“What can I do for you boys?” he asked, stepping between them and Aerin.
The Skulls stopped.
“We want them,” a Skulls boy said, pointing at Lor and Aerin.
The man lifted his right eyebrow. “For what?”
“Ah…” the boy stammered.
“Yes?” the man prompted.
“They stole somethin’ from us,” the boy finally spit out.
“Oh?” the braided man asked, “What did they steal?
That confused the Skulls boy for a moment, but one of his companions spoke to him, “That’s Temmen, the gladiator.”
At that announcement the Skulls Town boys backed away into the alley, but their spokesman had a last word for Lor and Aerin before they got out of sight, “You’re marked now, and we’ll be looking for you.” Then the Skulls left.
The gladiator turned to the two boys. “I don’t know what kind of trouble you got yourself into, nor do I care to find out, but I suggest you try to stay away from that pack. Now if our misunderstanding is concluded, Katek?”
“Ready , Temmen.” the younger braided boy answered.
“We’ll be on our way,” the gladiator concluded, and they headed up the street in the direction of the Arena.
As they left, Katek looked back over his shoulder at Aerin and gave him a nod, “Nice work with that quarterstaff.”
“Not good enough,” Aerin muttered but nodded back to the departing boy.
"I could have taken him," Lor noted, just loud enough for Aerin to hear.
"You think so?"
"Well, maybe," Lor admitted.
Lor and Aerin continued on their way past the Arena and into the relative safety outside of Skulls Town.
When Aerin finally helped the limping Lor into the familiar confines of the courtyard training area, Tocor and Mara met them. Dono sat on a bench, his sprained foot elevated and wrapped tightly in a cloth.
"Lor's hurt," Aerin said, unnecessarily. The way she leaned on his shoulder and the cuts and bruises on her face told the story plain enough.
Mara pointed to her room, "Get him up there. No, you stay down here, Aerin, I'll speak with you soon enough about this latest business."
Tocor scooped Lor up with his large arms and carried her into Mara's rooms at the top of the stairs, and Mara followed.
Tocor placed Lor on Mara's bed. The quarian stepped back while Mara approached her patient. "Tocor, you go see if Aerin is all right."
The large quarian nodded and left, closing the door.
"All right, Lor, let's get that shirt off," Mara instructed.
Lor looked extremely uncomfortable. "I'm fine; it’s just a few bruises... I just need some rest."
Mara shook her head, "No, I will be the judge of that; besides, I know your secret."
Lor looked scared and then suddenly angry, "Did Aerin..."
Mara interrupted, "No, I've known for a long time, but I didn't know that Aerin knew you were a girl."
Lor sighed, "He just found out. I should have known you would know."
Mara smiled, "I understand your reasons. Now let's get this shirt off so I can see to that shoulder. I need to see if you fractured anything."
Lor let Mara gently peel off the shirt and the wrap underneath. Then Mara gently squeezed and prodded the girl around the bruised areas, while she asked various questions, attempting to ascertain the extent of the damage.
"Well, young lady, you look like you came through it with the durability of youth. You'll be back in shape in a few days, with some pretty colorful bruises to show for it, but no permanent damage."
Mara removed a rolled up leaf from a sealed jar, that she took out of her trunk on the floor.
"Here, chew on this cured leaf and it will give you some relief from the pain. Now we have a few other things to discuss."
Lor chewed on the leaf and let Mara help her put her shirt back on. The young girl looked more fearful of Mara's questions than she did of the earlier painful exploration of her shoulder.
"Now that Aerin knows, I doubt you can keep it from your other friends for long. Are you still planning to keep your secret?"
Lor looked miserable, "Yes, for as long as possible. I don't want to be a girl!"
Mara gave her a war
m smile. "I think you are going to be surprised at just how much fun you are going to have as a girl. You're going to stand people on their ear, and love doing it. I know your type; I was that way myself, once. Don't take their prejudice as an insult but as a challenge. There is nothing quite as satisfying as proving such people, and their beliefs, wrong. Not that I'm saying it will be easy; you'll have to fight them your entire life. Even more, you'll have to fight the combined power of years of belief. Alone you wouldn't stand a chance, but you are not alone, Lor."
"What do you mean?" Lor asked.
"Friendship, it is a power stronger than prejudice, stronger than hatred and fear. The combined power of friendship can sustain you through it all, and let you be victorious. Gandarel Trelic is the key. With him as the focus of your bond, you will become far stronger than you can believe."
Lor's voice caught with suppressed emotion, "I can't say I understand. I'm sorry; I just know that as soon as everyone learns I'm a girl I won't be allowed to do what I want. I won't be able to travel the High Road. People will perceive me as weak and needing protection."
Mara spoke quietly, "You fear the loss of freedom. Well, Lor, freedom is something you have in your heart. It is not given to you, nor can it be taken away. Locked in a cell for forty years I would still be free. Free to believe what I wished, free to believe in my abilities and free to stay in control of my own mind. Freedom is something only you can give away. Fear is the start, the more you fear the more freedom you lose. Fear not what others will say, do, or think of you, be yourself and be anything you wish. Trust in the power of your friendships, and the fact that though your friends may not always understand, they will still stand behind you whether you are a girl or a Drakwolf."
Lor paused in thought for a moment, considering Mara's words. "How have you survived as a woman Mara? How is it you know so much about fighting when that is considered a man's providence?"
"It hasn't been easy, that I can tell you, but I will not compromise my own beliefs for anyone. If the whole world were against me, except for one true friend, I would not buckle under the weight of the world’s belief. You have friends like that now, Lor; lean on them, trust them, they will not fail you. Let them strengthen you until you too can stand against the world. As to my knowledge of fighting, I am old, and I've survived long enough to learn many things. It is my destiny to teach the new NexLord, who will throw down the Dreadmaster forever. To that end, I am prepared. Nor is it the first time I have been a teacher in arms, but fighting skill is only one thing all of you must learn. There are stronger uses for the power of the Nexus, and I will teach you."
"What is this power of the Nexus?" Lor asked, puzzled, though her voice was getting drowsy from the effects of the leaf she had chewed.
Mara smiled and smoothed the young girl's short hair out of her face when she spoke her voice was soft, “Don't worry, the time has not yet come. Rest young warrior, your friends will need you, as much as you need them. There is still a little time before you must bear the weight of the Nexus." Mara's voice took on the pattern of words long repeated, "For when the Dreadmaster's army flows around the Seat of Stone, like the ocean tide around a rock, the future NexLord, and his friends, must sneak away ere the Togroths depart. For if the son of the Warlord is to be the savior of the world, he must leave for the Chamber while the siege still stands."
Lor muttered something unintelligible but drifted off into sleep.
Mara watched her for a few minutes, remembering troubled times in her own youth, as she took on the combined beliefs of many people. She tucked Lor in and then left to go see Aerin.
Down in the courtyard, Aerin recounted his adventures to Dono, Tocor, Mara and the recently arrived Gandarel. He left out his discovery of Lor's gender and glossed over the reasons that Lor was in trouble with the Skulls gang.
"But what was Lor doing with the Skulls?" Gandarel asked, puzzled by Aerin's less than complete accounting.
Aerin looked troubled, but Mara came to his rescue.
"I'm sure Lor can tell us that part once he has had a chance to recover," she said, breaking into the conversation.
Gandarel had a furious glint deep in his eye, "Perhaps it's time I have the Guard do something about that gang."
Mara shook her head. "You can try, but even if the Guard manages to break up that gang, another one will just grab the territory once the Guard moves on. The answer to ending the gangs does not lie in fighting them, but getting the kids educated and directing all that energy into useful endeavors. Not that I think that is an easy task, and I'm not suggesting that your Guard goes easy on gang members, but using force, in this case, is treating a symptom, not curing the disease."
"Still, the streets can be made safer if we step up the patrols," Gandarel concluded.
Mara shrugged. "Sometimes treating a symptom is all you can manage."
The next day’s practice session was canceled. Lor had left, and needed time to recover and Dono was laid up with a sprained ankle. Gandarel was busy with some official duty of the Warlord, even though he was still only heir apparent, and that left Aerin without much to do.
He found Dono sitting on a corner making use of his bandaged leg. He was getting some of the richer members of Strakhelm's society to take pity on him and toss an occasional coin into his cup. He had dirtied up the outside of the bandage Mara had tied around his ankle and smudged up his face and hair to make him look even more pitiful.
Aerin glanced in his cup and whistled, "Wow, you should sprain your ankle more often!"
"Yeah, some of these merchant's wives are nearly crying when they see how pitiful I look," Dono said with a grin, which he immediately wiped off his face, as a woman came by and dropped another coin in his cup.
At the feigned look of pain on his face, Aerin laughed.
"Hey," Dono exclaimed, "With you sitting here laughing, you're going to drive off my business!"
"Good, you have taken these poor folks for enough change already!"
"POOR folks, they throw more than this away just having their egos washed," Dono rationalized.
Aerin smiled, "Have it your way, but with practice canceled, I was thinking of doing something fun."
"Naw, I think I'll just sit here and look miserable," Dono decided.
"Are you sure? You showed a lot of interest yesterday when I mentioned meeting the famous Temmen!"
Dono cocked his head to the side in a look of sudden interest, "What, exactly, are you saying?"
"I'm saying, I'm thinking of going to the Arena, I hear that the finals are today!"
Dono scooped up his cup and deftly emptied it into a pocket. He pulled off the dirty rag that was tied around his head and tossed it then got to his feet, favoring the bad ankle.
"Don't you need this rickety looking crutch?" Aerin asked, poking the offending piece of wood with a toe.
Dono laughed, "Naw, the foot is not really that bad, that stick is just another prop to help out my sale."
"Sale... ha!" Aerin exclaimed, and the two of them headed for the Arena at the southern end of the city.
"So, tell me about the Arena," Aerin requested.
"I thought you were the one who wanted to go?" Dono asked in amusement.
Aerin shrugged, "I just wanted to do something exciting. I've never been to a gladiator match before. Do they really fight to the death?"
Dono snickered at his friend's naiveté, "Of course not, though it could happen by accident. These are professional fighters. They fight, and they do occasionally get wounded, but they know when to hold back. After all, if they keep killing each other there won't be enough gladiators to make the rounds from city to city for the tournaments."
Aerin frowned, "Then it is all a show, they don't really fight?"
"No, they fight, and they are really good. I bet Tocor was a gladiator once," Dono decided, though he knew better. "But Temmen, he's the best there is, that's why you are the luckiest boy this side of the Dragonback. Imagine, Temmen coming to your rescue! I
bet those Skulls about messed their pants when they saw him!" Dono exclaimed.
Aerin realized that Temmen was more of a hero to Dono than he had thought.
"Is Temmen that famous?” he asked Dono.
"Famous! He is known as the best gladiator in the world!" Dono said with fervor.
They were getting near the Arena and they were now joining into the throngs of people all headed for the large stadium. They could see the high walls of the oval Arena standing above the nearest buildings. Aerin had never been inside. Pillars lined the outside of the oval structure and went up five levels. Vendors selling sweetmeats and cakes were calling to the passing crowd. Wine sellers were holding up skins swelled with the nectar of the grapes.
"Wow," Aerin exclaimed, "this is exciting, but where do we buy tickets?"
Dono laughed, "Tickets, you have got to be kidding, this is the finals! It's standing room only. I heard a challenger has made it to the semi-final bout! That is virtually unheard of; people have been talking about it for a week. Have you had your head buried in sand or something?"
"No, I guess I just wasn't really listening," Aerin answered. "But if it is sold out, how can we get in?"
"Watch and learn. How much money do you have on you?"
"A half-crown, but I don't want to spend all of that!" Aerin exclaimed.
"Hmm, that's not really enough, good thing I came along!"
"If that isn't enough I better not go," Aerin said, slowing and sounding disappointed.
"Wait, you misunderstand me, it isn't going to cost you a half-crown in the long run. Trust me, and give me your money."
Aerin shrugged and fished out the small silver coin. It had a triangular hole cut out of the middle making it a half crown. He had saved it up from money Mara had given him for chores.
Dono slowed as they entered the open cobblestone area before the entrances to the Arena. Aerin watched as Dono sized up the various people standing around.
In a hushed voice Aerin spoke to Dono, "You're not thinking of picking someone's pocket, I hope."
"No, relax Stupid, and watch. Make sure you don't speak," he cautioned.
Dono found a likely man and approached.
