by A. J. Walker
“In all seriousness,” Anders said, “I know you could probably hold your own with the best of them, but you must not make the same mistake I did. You can cheer me on this time, and in two years we’ll be able to compete alongside one another.”
“Hey Thomas,” Kirsten said, trying to shift the focus off herself, “It must drive you crazy not being able to compete next year when you turn eighteen. Too bad it’s a biannual event, because all of the greatest contestants in history have done their best in their eighteenth year.”
Thomas balled his fists together tightly in an attempt to hold back his anger. He knew what his sister was trying to do to him. “It’ll be worth the wait,” he said through a clenched jaw. “Then I can crush you at your first games.”
“There must be a mutual level of respect for one another among all athletes,” Theodor said, attempting to end the argument. “That includes the both of you.”
Kirsten stuck her tongue out at her older brother behind his back while her father spoke.
“Real mature,” Anders said in a low voice, giving her a loving shove with his forearm.
As they rode across town toward the festival’s market, Anders enjoyed observing the many cultures represented at the event. People of all nationalities had come to Grandwood to participate in the trade and commerce. The market was beginning to fill with people when they found an open lot for their stand. Anders and Thomas used the wagon as their booth, displaying their fresh salmon in several wicker baskets. Kirsten and Theodor unhooked the horse and led her over to a nearby hitching post.
It wasn’t long before the roar of the market was in full effect. The four of them had little trouble selling their fresh fish. They sold out within an hour.
Feeling the plump pouch of coins they’d just acquired, Theodor said, “Well done. This is more money than this family has had in months. I say we split up into groups and get supplies for the farm before we lose focus and become lost to all the festival has to offer.” The three of them nodded their heads in agreement. “Anders, you and Thomas get supplies for the boat, while Kirsten and I get the rest. Sound like a plan?”
They set out into the vast market to gather what they needed. After Thomas and Anders had most of their supplies loaded into the wagon, Anders said to his cousin, “I’d better go find the registration tent for tomorrow’s competition. I’ll track you down afterward.”
“Okay, sounds good to me,” Thomas replied. “I’ll let father and Kirsten know. I’ll be trying exotic food and checking out all the new things people are selling this year.”
“Have fun and don’t get food poisoning,” Anders said slapping Thomas on the back. He winced in pain because of the sunburn he’d suffered after spending the day fishing under the spring sun before the storm hit. He turned to tell Anders off, but his cousin had already disappeared into the crowd.
Anders pushed his way through the mass of people toward the registration tent. When he reached the beach and located the tent, he paused just outside the door. His nervousness came rushing back and his heart pounded fast. He took several deep breaths to calm himself down.
Exhaling, he reached out to open the tent door. Just as his hand wrapped around the handle, he was knocked violently off his feet. For a moment, he was lost. The world around him was a blur. He’d lost his bearings and found himself entangled with whoever had come barreling through the doorway in such a hurry. As he tumbled free from the stranger, he regained his composure. Rising to his feet, still confused about exactly what had just happened, Anders saw the man scramble to his feet and frantically try to escape. Two people from the registration tent rushed out after him.
“Thief! Stop that man! Stop that thief!” they yelled, hands raised pointing at the man who was now gaining speed along the crowded beach.
Anders quickly made sense of what was happening. Cursing under his breath, he took off at a dead sprint after the thief. As he raced through the crowd, he very quickly found himself gaining on the man. Running past tents and wagons, he saw a vendor with a row of handmade tool handles. The fleeing thief turned sharply to the left and bowled through a group of people, knocking them out of his way. Anders quickly grabbed a shovel handle as he passed the vendor. He rounded the corner and saw he had a clear shot at the man. He hurled the hard piece of wood with a fierce side-handed throw. It spun twice through the air with great speed, colliding into the back of the man’s head with a loud, CRACK! Instantly the man toppled to the ground like a sack of potatoes, dropping the large bags in his hands, spilling the contents. The people around him gasped when they saw the man fall, surprised to see such a violent end to the chase.
Anders rushed to the unconscious man. Beside him, the two bags of gold coins he’d stolen lay scattered on the ground. One of the people working at the registration tent had been just a few moments behind Anders throughout the chase. She quickly came to his side.
“Thank you so much!” Anders heard the girl say with a hint of an accent.
Anders lifted his head to see her walking swiftly toward him. Her brown eyes met his as her long amber hair ran down behind her shoulders. Her darker skin shone brilliantly in the light of the spring sun, captivating Anders. She was beautiful.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Anders managed something of a smile and rubbed the back of his sunburned neck. After what felt like much too long a silence, he finally squeaked out, “Yeah, don’t mention it.”
She chuckled at his inability to smoothly start a conversation. “That man took all of the proceeds for the games tomorrow. He snatched them from me when my back was turned. If he’d gotten away with it, I would be out of a job for sure,” she said to Anders. “I bet you weren’t expecting him to come barging through the door, were you?”
Anders, still smiling at her like an idiot, joked, “I sure wasn’t. I’m just surprised he held on to those heavy bags when he ran me over.” She smiled at him showing Anders the full beauty of her face and he felt himself instantly relax. “Well, I’m happy you won’t be getting fired. Let me help you pick up this mess and take the bags back to the tent.”
“That would be great! My name is Maija,” she said, extending her hand toward him.
“Anders,” he replied taking her hand and shaking it.
She seemed to be examining his face as they shook hands and said, “I like the color of your eyes.”
Anders blushed, the redness rising up his neck and across his sunburned face. “Thanks. The brown in your eyes matches the color of your hair beautifully,” Anders heard the words come out before he realized it might be rude to give a girl he didn’t know such a tender compliment.
She smiled after seeing his facial expression change to humiliation, “Yours are lovely too. They’re like the color of a storm rolling across the sea. What do they call it?”
“My uncle calls it gray-haze,” he said bashfully.
“I haven’t met anyone with gray eyes before,” she said.
“I find that hard to believe,” Anders said.
“Where I come from there aren’t many people who have bright eyes,” she said, gazing longingly into Anders’ eyes.
“Where is that?” he asked.
“A small island off the coast of Southland,” she said with a slightly accented Landish tone that differed faintly from other Westland and Southland speech. “They’re called the Kewians,” she smiled.
“It sounds like a lovely place,” Anders said holding her gaze before awkwardly glancing down at his feet.
Together they gathered the scattered coins. Several of the town’s watchmen had seen the chase and were quick to put the thief in chains. Anders and Maija carried the money back to the registration tent while the watchmen hauled the thief away.
“So, it would be safe to assume you were about to come in and register for the games when that man ran into you?” Maija asked Anders.
“Yeah, I didn’t see that one coming,” he replied. “He was moving pretty fast,
too. He should’ve signed up for the event instead of trying to steal the money. Probably would’ve done pretty well,” he joked.
“It looks like you got the best of him in the end, though,” Maija said. “Good thing you got lucky with that shovel handle.”
“Hang on,” Anders said. “That wasn’t just luck. I happen to be an excellent shovel handle thrower,” he smiled at her.
Back at the tent Anders was thanked and congratulated by the others working alongside Maija. He glanced over at Maija, who was staring at him, but looked away embarrassed when he noticed. After shaking the hands of Maija’s co-workers, Anders finally completed what he had come to do in the first place. He registered for the Grandwood Games. They told him to return in the morning to go over the rules before the competition began. He smiled brightly at Maija, who smiled back, before he left the registration tent.
After meeting up with his family, Anders told them what had happened.
“Anders, that’s amazing,” Kirsten said in admiration. “Maybe now you’ll have an advantage in the judges’ eyes.”
“It certainly won’t hurt,” said Thomas in a hopeful voice.
“Good job, Anders. No matter what happens tomorrow, I’m proud of you,” Theodor said as they climbed aboard the wagon to leave the Grandwood Festival.
He’d left out the part about meeting Maija, the beautiful Kewian girl who he now found himself thinking about.
The sun set over the horizon as the four of them rode up to their home above Highborn Bay. Anders and Thomas unloaded supplies from the wagon while Theodor went inside to start a fire. They warmed themselves by the fireplace as darkness fell, drinking warm tea and speculating how Anders would fare in the upcoming games. After placing several wagers among themselves, Anders wished everyone good night and went to sleep thinking about Maija’s beautiful brown eyes and enchanting smile.
Chapter Two
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The Grandwood Games
THE MORNING OF THE Grandwood Games dawned with a clear blue sky. Anders had been training for this competition for almost a year. He’d taken a shot at it two years earlier when the judges had made an exception for him at the age of seventeen. The rules were clear; no one under eighteen could compete.
While not typically a rule breaker, Anders had wanted to compete so badly that he persuaded Uncle Theodor to lobby the judges with him for an exception. Reluctantly the judging committee made an exception for him. Theodor had served alongside several of the judges during The War of the Magicians and was able to talk them into bending the rules for Anders.
Unfortunately, after all of that effort, Anders failed to complete the last event of the competition, the mountain race. While he was running back down the side of the mountain, one of the other contestants pushed him off the trail and down into some jagged rocks. He fell out of control and broke his leg. On top of the pain, he was forced to show an incomplete time and forfeit the games as well as miss several months of work on their family farm. Theodor regretted helping Anders compete illegally and in the end paid a price for it. With his hardest and most valuable worker unable to help during the busiest part of the harvest, their family was hardly able to make ends meet.
Since recovering from his broken leg, Anders had been training hard for all four events in the competition. The events required performance of a special skill, a demonstration of strength, a test of knowledge, and finally, completion of the challenging mountain race. He wanted to make sure he would be prepared for anything the games could throw at him this time around.
Between working on the family farm and pulling in waterlogged fishing nets with his cousin, Anders had grown very strong for a nineteen-year-old. His work routine took care of his strength training. He spent the evening hours studying books his uncle kept in his private library. An avid reader and lover of knowledge, Theodor helped Anders sharpen his mind. For his specialty skill, Anders had been practicing knife and axe throwing. From an early age, he’d been a natural at throwing any object with remarkable accuracy, so it seemed like his best option. As for endurance training, Anders often spent any free time he had hiking far into the mountains behind their house. The winter months made it more difficult to hike great distances in the snow, but he did his best to fully prepare for the competition.
After eating smoked salmon and freshly baked bread for breakfast, Anders and his family traveled to the registration tent on the beach where the Grandwood Games were to begin. Upon arriving, Anders joined the long line of contestants outside the tent waiting for their information and placement in the games’ different heats.
Anders stood in line behind a young man who must have had his eighteenth birthday only a few days before. The young man seemed to be in especially high spirits and spoke loudly to anyone around him who would listen to his jokes, many of which were inappropriate for children’s ears. Anders stood behind him and heard every word, often laughing at the comic relief he was supplying. He found the jokes amusing; they took his mind off the competition, settling his nerves. Anders introduced himself.
The dark-haired lad replied in kind, “Hello, Anders, my name is Max. Glad to meet you. Where’re you from?”
Getting a good look at him face-to-face, Anders noticed Max had several inches on him in height. At around six feet tall, Max had a more slender frame than Anders’ toned muscular body. Max’s black hair was tied tightly into a bun near the top of his head.
“Grandwood. How about yourself?” Anders asked Max, curious of his origins.
“I come from the Riverlands of Westland. Just outside a town called Brookside. I came here with my younger brother, Bo, who’s in the crowd somewhere,” Max said in perfect Landish, humankind’s most common language. Squinting as he looked over Anders, he scanned the gathering crowd for his brother. Not able to locate him, Max shrugged and continued, “We heard people talking about how difficult this competition was, and, well, I had to come try it. I love a good adventure, and it’s not like me to turn down a tough challenge.”
“You seem confident and in good spirits. I’m sure you’ll do well. Best of luck to you,” Anders said with a smile and Max returned the sentiment.
One by one contestants filed into the tent. Soon Anders heard someone inside shout, “Next.” He entered, searching the room for the amber-haired girl he’d met the day before. She was standing near the back of the tent sorting through some parchment. He approached the table where a man sat scribbling into an open book.
“State your name, age, and where you’re from,” he said swiftly.
“Anders Valgner, nineteen, of Highborn Bay, Grandwood City.”
The man raised his head when he heard Anders’ name. He leaned back in his chair and looked to the far end of the tent where Maija stood with her head down, concentrating on her task.
“Hey Maija,” the man shouted. “Is this the lad?” he asked, pointing his quill in Anders’ direction.
Her head perked up. Upon seeing Anders, she smiled brightly and Anders weakened in the knees, “Yes, it sure is. Thanks to him we can offer prize money.”
Anders blushed through his already fading sunburnt cheeks and shrugged bashfully.
The man was not among those who’d been in the tent the day before. Otherwise he would have thanked him yesterday. He rose from his chair and grasped Anders’ hand, shaking it. “Well thank you kindly for getting that money back for us. It would’ve been a terrible loss if you hadn’t chased that thief down.” The man reached down and pulled a pouch out of a box next to his chair. “Here you are, take this.” He handed Anders the pouch. Anders took it hearing the coins inside clink together. “A little reward for your generosity.”
Surprised, Anders said, “Thank you,” putting the pouch in his pocket and looking over at Maija who was smiling at him.
The man sat back down and grabbed a piece of charcoal and stuck it out toward Anders. “Take this and write your number on your left arm and right leg,” he said. “Your number is
forty-three. Then make your way down to the shoreline and the judges will explain what to do from there.”
Anders did as he was told. As he left, Maija shouted, “Good luck, Anders!”
He smiled and waved to her as he left the tent. His family emerged from the crowd to wish him good luck. They met him near the group of men and women waiting for the judges to provide further instructions.
“It looks like you’ll have some stiff competition this year,” Theodor said eyeing the diverse group of contestants.
“Yeah,” Anders agreed. “I can tell from the tribal tattoos that quite a few Rollo Island warriors are here.”
The battle-tested warriors of the Rollo Islands were known to be very hard to beat in physical competition. Anders suspected one of them had shoved him off the trail during the last Grandwood Games because he’d heard a string of Native Rolloan words as he fell into the rocks.
“Just remember your training,” Theodor said reassuringly. “Many of their warriors lack the ability to think for themselves and don’t know how to perform when they aren’t given orders. It could give you the advantage during a battle of wits.”
“Thanks, I’ll do my best,” Anders replied.
Standing on a large rock at one end of the beach, a judge announced that he would be describing the rules shortly. Thomas, Kirsten, and Theodor all wished Anders good luck one last time as he joined his competitors for their meeting.
The judge stood tall on top of the boulder calling for them to gather around him and listen.
“This competition will involve four parts, each testing a different skillset. The first is a test of strength, which is made up of three challenges, with a maximum score of thirty points. Next will come a test of wits and problem solving, followed by a demonstration of a specialty skill chosen by the competitor, worth ten points each. The fourth and final event, the mountain race, will be timed. The faster your time, the more points you will receive.