Ashar'an Rising (Nexus Wars Saga)

by Robert Day

  Something caught Valdieron's eye as Javin haggled for the lodging. A board of notices was hanging behind the bar, and one large notice caught his attention. It read:

  Need Money?? Think you can last in the Arena of Gladius? Come and test yourself. Worthy applicants will be sponsored to enter the games, and pay is dependant upon success.

  A small portrait was set below the note, a sketch of a man's head: Dark hair slicked back and pointed beard, with sharp features. His eyes were deep and he wore large rings in his left ear. He didn't know how he knew, but the face was the face that had been haunting his dreams recently, mocking him.

  He didn't tell Javin until they were at their table; away from prying ears and eyes, and the Darishi eyed him skeptically at first, but Valdieron was adamant it was the same person.

  “Then what do you propose?”

  “I don't know,” confessed Valdieron with a sigh. “Maybe we can ask around and see what this Gladius is? Perhaps we can enter it, and try to get close to this man.”

  “That might not be a good idea, Val. From what you have told me, this man might well know your face, so if you go hanging around his game, he might discover you and have you dealt with.”

  “Maybe. But if this Gladius is big, he might not have any dealing with who enters it. If both of us are able to compete, then it will give us both a reason to be there. I think we will have to find out more before we make a decision, but that seems like the best choice so far.”

  “All right, we will ask around and see.” Their food was ready then, so they were quiet as they ate, for they hadn't eaten a large, warm meal for many days. The room was beginning to fill when they finished, so they decided to retire to their room early rather than risk exposure.

  There was warm water in their room so they were able to wash and change, though all of their clothes were worn and dirty and in need of a wash and a patch. Valdieron stretched out on the lumpy bed, feeling the strain and pressure of the last few weeks catching up to him, and he couldn't suppress a huge yawn.

  “I think I'll go down and start to find out what I can about this Gladius,” said Javin, belting on his sabers and combing his long hair back with his fingers. “Drunken people tend to care less about who they speak to, or what they speak of.”

  “All right, just don't spend all of our gold on ale. We might need it.”

  Javin gave him a wink and left.

  Alone, Valdieron stared for a time at the ceiling, letting his thoughts roam, but he couldn't help thinking of Kitara, and wondered where the Princess was at that moment. He pictured her in his mind, her dark hair, blue eyes and strikingly beautiful features. He remembered her voice, as she spoke to him and as she had sung, so beautiful and captivating it made him shiver. He knew he had fallen for her: from the first time he had heard her voice, then the first time he had seen her true face. He realized it was a foolish infatuation: she was a Princess and he was nothing more than a farmer, with a heritage that was for the most part unknown. He had nothing he could give her, nor could he even rationalize that he would be alive for long, considering his quest, but it still didn't make him stop thinking about her and worrying about her. It was all he could do not to rush to where this Gladius was held and storm the building looking for her, but reason told him that would most likely just get him killed.

  For some reason, as he drifted off to sleep and found himself in Kel'Valor, the strange face did not haunt him, nor was his mocking laughter audible as it had been, incessantly at the edge of his hearing. Kel'Valor felt more comfortable than it had, and he made his way to the Hall of Magic with a spring in his step.

  He was eager to learn more about Magic, something both mystical and intoxicating, like a drug, because he wanted it, and would need it in the days and weeks to come. The learning proved much more different than he had gone through in the Combat Ambit, for it required a focusing of the mind to accept and manipulate something that to all aspects was inconceivable. Essence wasn't anything that could be seen, though it could be felt, becoming more tangible with experience.

  He wondered once more of magicians he had read about in his youth, figures of great power who battled huge monsters from distant lands and tossed lightning and fire like a farmer tossed meal to his fowls.

  The thought made him smile as the Hall of Magic opened before him, and for the first time in many days, he kept that smile as he set about learning more about the ways of his ancestors, the Kay'taari.

  “This is the building,” stated Javin, as the two stopped before what appeared to be a huge coliseum, circular with a large square building set into its front. This building was ornate in the extreme, with railed balconies, marble pillars, and stained glass windows that depicted a myriad of scenes. A huge gate was opened leading up to the building via a cobbled path, flanked by thick hedges, with a row of circular fountains set in the center of the path, sprouting a constant spray of clear water. Armed guards stood at posts around the complex, dark figures wearing dark clothing rather than armor, with swords across their backs.

  “Zhak Lomar is the man's name. He is supposedly a descendant of one of the noble families, thus his wealth, but I heard one old man last night say he was linked with the local assassin's guild. They are called Kiroba.”

  “Well, at least our gold was well spent”. Val had found out that morning upon waking that Javin had spent all but enough of their money for one more night's stay, but he conceded the information was invaluable. One more look at the guards who patrolled the complex, and he wondered if they weren't the Kiroba assassins Javin spoke of. He had a feeling they were watching everything while appearing to be merely patrolling.

  “Let's go. This place gives me the creeps.” Javin nodded and the two joined the rush of people once more and wound their way back to the Inn. It was terribly warm inside the city, where the sun beat down mercilessly, and the huge walls and buildings kept all but the strongest wind away, so there was little respite. Not that the locals seemed to be bothered by it, but just the short walk to and from the Gladius building to the Inn had both of them sweating and parched.

  “So, what now?” asked Javin as a barmaid brought them some water, offering them a smile before she left.

  “Well, I think you are right about me not getting inside this place, just in case. Tomorrow, you can see if you can gain entry and enter the competition. There is one in three days time, didn't you say?”

  “Yes, and from what we have heard, another one six days after, which is going to be bigger. All of the winners from the last year's performances will be entered. The prize is said to be something priceless.”

  “Kitara!”

  “Maybe, maybe not. We don’t know that for sure, Val. Don’t lose heart on me now.”

  Val gave a grudging nod. “But what will happen when you enter? If what we have heard is true, only a select crowd will be asked to attend the big competition. All of the nobles have been invited, and most of the richer merchants and citizens. Some are selling their tickets, but I don't think we could afford one.”

  Javin shook his head ruefully.

  “Then we will just have to see if we can get an invitation. I don't like it, but we might have to steal one if we can. We might be able to barter for one, a ticket for Firefox perhaps, but I don't want you to have to give him up like that. We might need him for a quick getaway from the city.”

  Javin nodded. “I will see what else I can find out tonight.”

  Valdieron nodded. He had a bad feeling about all this, but knew there was no easier way.

  Chapter 31

  If Javin felt in any way uncomfortable standing almost naked before the small group of male and female Dak'marians, he merely gripped the hilts of his sabers tighter and stood unmoving before them, not meeting any of the gazes and trying not to let their penetrating stares make him sweat: at least any more than he already was. The small circular chamber he was in was very cloistered, the sweat making his dark skin glisten, something that didn't seem to concern his watcher
s, especially those who were female. They formed a semi circle outside the room, looking in through a long window.

  It was with mixed feelings he realized that the man, Zhak Lomar, wasn't one of those watching. He wanted to know about this man who might be holding the Princess Kitara captive, find out if he was a typical overconfident royal who paid little heed to potential danger and not have any bodyguards. He wanted to look him in the eyes and see what sort of man he really was, if he was a coward who merely kidnapped others for the purpose of making a gain, or if he was a cold and calculating man, who had more ulterior motives.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the opening and closing of a door behind him, and he turned to find an armed man standing before him, also nearly naked save for a thin loincloth, and he carried a longsword and a shortsword, the preferred weapon combination of these southerners. The man was not tall for a Dak'marian, a hand shorter than the lithe Darishi, but he was very muscular, his almost hairless body also gleaming from perspiration. Looking into his eyes, Javin saw the man was unblinking, and was regarding him with what he could only describe as hatred, as if Javin had done something to offend his honor.

  Shaking his head at the strangeness of these southerners, he raised his weapons to the ready. He knew this was a trial, but had not really been told the rules of engagement, but the swords the man carried were as real and as sharp as his, and one look at the man's hate filled eyes was enough to know it wasn't going to be a friendly encounter.

  But that was all right with Javin. He was a competent swordsman, probably one of the most skilled in the land, even though he had failed at the tournament in Thorhus, but he had lost to Valdieron, and there was no shame in that. He felt he was at a higher level now, with his almost daily sparring matches with Valdieron, who had taught him there was so much more to the often regimented and sequential moves of combat. He was more aware of what consequences each of his moves had as he performed them, making each move a step towards the goal of defeating his opponent, rather than just go out with blazing sabers and try to pummel him into submission, or dazzle him with less effective moves. That is how Valdieron had beaten him in Thorhus, for he had been playing to the crowd, expecting the young warrior he had never heard of to be too caught up in the tension of the combat before such a vocal and buzzing crowd. Too late he realized how he should never have underestimated his opponent.

  So he wasn't about to do the same here, even though he knew these people were after somebody who could please a crowd as well as somebody who was a master swordsman. He would fight and win because he couldn't afford to lose, not that he thought the man would kill him, but winning meant getting closer to discovering the whereabouts of the Princess.

  At least he didn't think the man was out to kill him, but when he exploded into motion and charged Javin with a spinning attack, swords came at him high and low, hard and fast. For a split second Javin was stunned by the speed of the man, but he was no slouch himself and his instincts honed over many years of rigorous training had him joining the melee with counters and then attacks of his own, nothing fancy but enough to take the momentum away from the Dak'marian and to test if his skills were not just limited to fancy attacks.

  They weren't. For a time Javin thought the man was his better, for he came close to being injured several times, even taking a slap with the flat of the man's longsword and a kick that glanced across his leg, any harder and he would have been in trouble. But as he worked into the battle, he realized the man was not adapting his fighting to counter Javin's different style, while Javin was working out the man's methods of attack, trying to understand why he was attacking as he did, to see if there was any plan, or if it was just mindless offence.

  Suppressing a smile, Javin began to set the man up as he worked out the Dak'marian didn't recover well after being worked low: he usually stepped away and came in again, using a kick or a feinted rising slash to give himself time and to make Javin hesitate. This time, after running him through a series of wide and low thrusts, Javin let the man draw back, but this time stepped forward and to the left. The expected feinted rising slash came, too late the man saw Javin's advance and managed a weak slash, but Javin swatted it aside with a saber and lunged low, sweeping his left saber around at the man's legs. With his longsword high and out of the focus, the man knew he was in trouble, because his shorter sword couldn't help either, not low and across his body as it was.

  The blow Javin gave him wasn't with the edge of his saber, but with the flat of the blade, smacking against skin and buckling the man's leg forward. The Dak’marian’s foot slipped on the smooth floor and he almost fell, but regained his balance somehow, at least until Javin spun again and hooked his legs out with a sweeping kick. His swords were high, a precaution to guard against a stray attack the man might somehow make, but it didn't eventuate. With a heavy thud the man landed on his back, the air knocked from his lungs and his longsword falling from his hand. Flicking it aside with a saber, Javin rested the other against the man's throat.

  The hatred hadn't left the man's eyes, and he almost surprised Javin again when his shortsword feinted up for an attack. Javin reflexively moved to intercept it with his saber, allowing the man to roll away, but not fast enough to get away from the Darishi. Javin was there again as the man tried to rise, this time his saber didn't rest on the man's throat, he punched forward and caught the man in the side of the head with the flat pommel. The man's hate filled eyes clouded and rolled up as he toppled to the floor. As a precaution, Javin took the shortsword and threw it to the far side of the room, then turned back towards the gallery.

  Not knowing what to expect, he was surprised to find some of the group had left, though several still remained. The official who had met Javin earlier, a balding Dak'marian of middle age, stood amongst them and was turning from one to another as they spoke to him. It didn't take long for Javin to realize they were bidding to be his sponsor in the coming Gladius. He knew whoever sponsored the winner was afforded a great amount of acclaim in the city; therefore many lesser nobles and powerful merchants were keen to bid. He wasn't too surprised to find that all of the females who had viewed were still there, and seemed to be bidding most fervently. After a short time, the highest bidder was declared and the others left, probably to see another combat and bid for another warrior. Javin was motioned to exit the room, where he was brought before his sponsor.

  She was a little under middle age, not strikingly beautiful, but she was pretty and when she smiled her brown eyes flashed. She carried herself with the air of somebody who was used to command, probably the wife of a nobleman, and the way she eyed Javin was the way a local horse dealer might look over a newly purchased stallion. He was unfamiliar with the attention of women, even noble women, though he was as a Prince himself in Darishi, but he knew this woman was more dangerous than a pit full of vipers.

  “Javin of the Darishi, this is your Sponsor, the Lady Tamara.” The official was obviously used to dealing with these people, for his tongue seemed as polished as a new sword. Javin, having already sheathed his sabers, bowed low to the Lady.

  “If only my hand was not sweating, I would consider it an honor to touch your hand, my Lady.” His own tongue could be polished too, he mused, as he stayed bowed before the lady.

  Her laugh was obviously not forced, but it carried with it a threat not to try and butter her up with flattery. “It seemed to me you hardly worked up a sweat, Javin of the Darishi.”

  “Nothing in battle is assured, my lady.”

  “Well, rest assured that if you are successful in the combat in two days, you will have my sponsorship for the Champion’s Gladius in eight days time. And I have my own reward in store for you if you prove successful.” She gave a soft chuckle, her lewd gaze openly explaining her words, and Javin was glad his head was still bowed. He felt her hand touch his head then, caressing his hair and then trace around to his face. She used her hand to force him to rise, her eyes running over his body as he stood before her.


  “I will fight with greater determination to bring you victory, my Lady.”

  “Yes. Yes you will.” With another laugh she turned away, leaving Javin bemused, wondering at her words.

  “You will be here before sunset tomorrow to prepare for the combat.” The official was back at his side, obviously not offering any help to the dazed Darishi. “It would be wise of you to be prompt.” The threat was as open as Javin had heard, but the man was looking away, his eyes following the Lady Tamara as she departed, now flanked by her own guards.

  “This is from the lady. She said you should spend it wisely.” The official pressed a purse into Javin's hand before turning away. Wondering if this wasn't such a bad idea after all, Javin quickly dressed under the watchful eye of the several Darishi who lined the long viewing area, before leaving. It was midday outside and very hot, but he felt more comfortable now than he had a moment before.

  “Well, that should give you good enough incentive to win,” laughed Valdieron, as Javin told him about the morning's trial.

  “I'm not so sure,” retorted Javin, taking a long drink, this one of ale. The purse the Lady had left for him had contained ten gold pieces, which Valdieron was thankful for, as it allowed them to continue staying at the Inn.

  “And you said the public are welcome to watch this Gladius in two days time?”

  Javin nodded as he drank. “Yes. They have a limited number of seats, and it costs five gold to watch, which we have now.”

  It was good news, but still Valdieron was skeptical. “What if you don't win? All right, don't get mad,” he smiled as the Darishi darkened. “You are good, we know that, but we haven't even seen any of the other contestants. I don't want you hurt doing this for me. We can always try a different plan.”

  Javin nodded. “I know, but this is the best plan we have. It gets us both inside, and two sets of eyes. I can take care of myself, Val, and I know the dangers. You are a friend and a fellow warrior, and we are fighting for a greater ideal here, so how could I refuse. We will find your Princess.”