by James Wolf
A handful of Rhungars were already sprawled on the ground, now only semi-conscious. The conflict centred over the three shields: flat, firm discs, two hand spans across, covered in quartered red and blue felt, and stuffed with cloth. Taem slipped between the fighting Rhungars, eluding their strong grasping arms.
Forgrun had wrestled the first shield free, and was heading back to the blue treasury with the spoils. Ironstone Rhungars smashed into the Claymores. One red Rhungar hung around Ragad’s neck, as another worked on tripping his legs. Taem glanced around, before scooping down to pick up a free shield. Taem caught a flash of red out the corner of his eye. It was all happening in terrible slow motion. But Taem knew he was too committed to dodge out the way. Taem stood back up, and tried to brace himself. But he was smashed by a thundering shoulder charge. Taem flew. Hit clean off his feet. He saw the ground rushing towards his eyes, and struggled to get his hands up. His head smacked into the floor. Taem’s mind dazed as he gazed up, bleary eyed, to his attacker.
‘Welcome ter Gaunt Ruck,’ the Claymore Rhungar sneered, down through his great beard, as he picked up the shield Taem had been holding, and sprinted off with it back to the red treasury.
Taem stumbled up to his feet and shook himself off. All the other players had left the centre and were heading back to their treasuries to regroup, or were scampering away to one of the tackle posts if they had been knocked off their feet.
Taem returned to the blue treasury, via a tackle post, and Forgrun was bellowing orders:
‘Pendran, yhee take up thy catcher’s role outside their treasury. Ragad, don’ be afrai’ ter throw thy weight around, yhee see what they just done ter Taem…’ Forgrun’s voice trailed out of earshot as Taem got to the blue treasury.
‘Yhee be all right, lad?’ Harnan asked. The mighty Rhungar had taken up his keeper position, defending the treasury.
‘Yes,’ Taem said stoically.
Harnan smiled at the man’s courage, ‘I be seein’ thy speed, lad. Don’ try an’ compete with brute force, play ter thy strengths.’ Harnan patted Taem on the shoulder.
Heading back to the centre, evading the incoming Claymore raiders, Taem saw Ragad bowl over one of the Claymores. Forgrun hurled another to the ground, stealing the shield the red player had just picked up. Sturad, the Claymore captain, had just tackled an Ironstone Rhungar who had stolen a shield from the red treasury, latching onto the thieving raider’s legs and pulling him down. The stewards sent the downed blue Rhungar scurrying off to a tackle post. Seeing Sturad take up the dropped shield, the thrill of the chase overcame Taem’s hazy head and he leapt after the Claymore Rhungar.
Taem urged his legs to move faster as he gained on the fleeing Claymore. He caught Sturad just outside the red treasury and pounced like a lion on the Rhungar’s back, sending them both tumbling to the floor. With a look of incredulity on his face, Sturad wasted no time in heading to the nearest tackle post, leaving Taem to pick up the shield and run wide round the arena floor, avoiding any red tabards, to store the shield in the blue treasury. There were three shields in there now.
‘Well done, Lad!’ Harnan bellowed, as he jumped forward and dropped his shoulder to block red Rhungars trying to raid the blue treasury. Ragad picked one of the Claymores up and dumped him to the ground, sending the Rhungar dashing off to a tackle post with a sour grimace on his face. Leaving the keepers to their jobs, Taem headed back out to the main field.
Claymore mounted a serious assault on the Ironstone treasury, coming away with two shields, whilst blue raiders and roamers had turned their attentions to the red treasury. But Forgrun and two other Ironstones were dispatched with thumping hits from the Claymore defence. Their attack blunted, the blue Ironstones were sent scurrying off to a tackle post, once they had picked themselves off the floor.
This was the most exhilarating game Taem had ever played – even better than Maul! There was so much going on all over the pitch, and you had to keep your wits about you and your eyes open all the time. The reds were everywhere! Surrounding Taem, but he managed to elude them by turning, changing direction and accelerating away.
A bone-crunching tackle went flying in, as the red catcher intercepted a blue Rhungar running towards home with a pilfered shield. The Claymore’s shoulder hit the Ironstone’s waist so hard that the blue Rhungar was bent in half, and knocked clean off his feet. But Harnan was on hand to pick up the dropped shield and deposit it in the blue treasury. Another shield outside the red goal zone changed hands three times before it was returned to the safety of the red treasury.
Taem saw the defenders inside the red tackle zone open up and he darted forward on a daring run. Stepping this way and that, he cut through two red players. Taem looked all around. He slowed to steal a shield from the red treasury, jumping aside as one of the red keepers tried to mash him between two great fists, and accelerated away from the Claymore defenders. Red catchers spread over the pitch to ensnare him. He knew he could side-step faster than them. Taem just had to wait until they were committed, not make his move until the last moment. He criss-crossed so many times that he muddled the first red catcher into tripping over his own feet, and dodged through and around the other two. There was a huge roar from the crowd as Taem put the shield in the blue treasury. Taem realised the Rhungars were all running out of puff. It was time for him to try and up his game.
Harnan and Ragad were keeping up a solid defence of the blue treasury, putting in monstrous hits on the invaders, with only a few red runners getting through. Even so, shields seemed to be changing hands with a frenzied frequency. In the middle of the coliseum, Forgrun and Sturad had both grabbed the same free shield at the same time, and were now engaged in a ferocious fistfight. The stewards arrived and pulled them apart, sending them both off the pitch to separate tackle posts.
Taem launched a second ranging run and raided the red treasury – to which the crowd again screamed their approval. But Taem realised there were many Claymores eyes glaring at him. They had had enough of his looping runs, and were going to knock the wind out of him.
Three Claymore Rhungars encircled Taem, all grasping to get a hold of him. Taem dodged aside the first. The second, Taem managed to leap over his swinging arm. The third Claymore hit Taem square in the chest with his hefty Rhungari shoulder. Taem felt the air sucked from his chest as he was bent double, lifted clean off the ground and smashed to the floor. He could not breathe! Taem panicked as he wheezed for air, clutching at the pain shooting over his chest.
Forgrun roared a battle cry, when he saw what the Claymores had done to his friend. He charged over Taem’s body into the fray, fists flailing. The furious Ironstone clobbered down two of the Claymores with mighty haymaker punches. Other Ironstones came flying in behind their captain. More Claymores arrived, then Ragad and Harnan joined the brawl, now every player on the pitch was involved in the all-mighty scrap. The bellowing Rhungars exchanged vicious punches and elbows. Within moments, every one of them had dark bruises on their belligerent faces. The team-mates backed each other up to the hilt. The Gaunt Ruck bell rang out time and again across the arena, as stewards piled in to separate the teams, whilst the crowd cheered every punch and wild swing. Finally, some order was restored by the gamesmaster.
Looking up at the giant sand timer beside the Lord’s booth, Taem saw there were thirteen minutes gone and seven remaining, as he wearily got back up onto his feet. Play restarted and the teams were off again. After the rough treatment he had received, Taem was determined to relieve the Claymores of more shields. Cutting back through the red defence, he did not even slow down as he scooped another shield from the Claymore treasury. He realised the Rhungars were getting even slower, as the game wore them down.
Taem chased after two red raiders who had each just thieved a shield from the Ironstone treasury. The thrill of the hunt surged through Taem. With his light, ranging strides Taem loped after the fleeing red Rhungars and leapt, taking down the first Claymore in a diving tackle. Taem jumped up. He hurt
led after the second fleeing Rhungar and sprung on him, as a hunting hawk takes down its prey. A great roar rose up from the crowd at Taem’s athletic display. Both red players were sent traipsing back to their tackle post, muttering and grimacing at Taem.
‘Be held back!’ Forgrun roared to the two blue roamers. ‘Take him!’ Forgrun boomed, sending one forward, as he held himself in reserve to sweep up any red players that got through. ‘Yhee be takin’ ye other!’ The Ironstone captain yelled over the cheers of the crowd. One of the blue roamers thudded home a thumping hit, upending a Claymore. The other blue roamer went flying off the wrong way as he missed his tackle, but Forgrun was right there to clean up, smashing the red raider to the floor.
‘Follow me!’ Forgrun bellowed, now the Claymore ranks had been thinned. ‘Raid! Yhee do take left! Yhee do take right!’
Taem surged forward. He swooped into the red treasury, side-stepped through the defence and swiped a shield, but was confronted by Sturad on the way back to the blue treasury. Taem feinted one way then the other, and bolted back the other way again. Sturad stumbled. Taem was sure he was through and round the Claymore captain. But as he passed Sturad, the Claymore dived after him, catching Taem’s heel with his lunging hand. Sturad tapped Taem’s foot enough, to send the man off balance and tumbling to the floor. It was a skilful tackle.
Ragad was a wall as solid as stone that blocked the blue treasury. Taem shuddered as a charging Claymore was upended by the Northman’s muscular frame. As the red raider was tossed high up into the air, tumbling over and round for what seemed to be an eternity, the bronze Gaunt Ruck bell rang out.
The crowd screamed and cheered their appreciation. Stewards rushed to the treasuries. The steward at Claymore’s red treasury held up two fingers; the steward at Ironstone’s, three. The blue team raised their arms, howling in victory as they hurried to bear-hug and high-slap their Ironstone team mates. The red Claymore players slumped in despondency, muttering to themselves as they stared at the floor, but began to applaud the winners.
The Ironstone team walked a lap of the arena to appease the crowd – who whooped and cheered, and downed whole tankards of ale.
Chanting “Gaunt Ruck! Gaunt Ruck! Gaunt Ruck!”
Or, “Ironstone! Ironstone! Ironstone!”
Taem was amazed by the passion of the Rhungar crowd’s support. The whole coliseum was a sea of jovial faces, all bellowing and bringing their fists together to make the sign of Gromm. Taem imagined that if this screaming Rhungar throng were to charge from the citadel now, they would be able to take on the Krun horde – even if it was five times their number – and win.
The blue Ironstone team met the Claymore team in the centre of the coliseum, where every player congratulated each player on the opposing team. Taem was struck by the humility of the Claymores in defeat. Taem watched the Rhungars smacking each other’s forearms as they shook hands, and he realised that this was an important part of the ritual of Gaunt Ruck. After all their bravado, the opposing teams praised and consoled each other with dignity and respect, as the crowd clapped a thunderous round of applause. Taem could at last see what Forgrun had meant, when he said how Gaunt Ruck brought the Rhungari people closer together.
That evening, a great feast took place in a massive dining hall. The chamber held a hundred long-tables, each one capable of seating forty Rhungars, and all the players and spectators were shepherded in. Taem had never seen the like of the feast that was put on. It must have been the Rhungari idea of heaven.
As Taem followed the other Ironstone players, he passed musicians and entertainers wearing clothes that were the colours of all the clans at the same time. Past the merry strumming and tapping of the Rhungari musicians, Taem went and sat with both the Ironstone and Claymore teams, on a huge table close to the Citadel Lord’s head table. The other companions came and sat with Taem, whilst Hirandar sat up on Drogal’s right hand side.
Taem was amazed to see the afternoon’s combatants were all now getting on well, and even Forgrun and Sturad were slapping each other on the back, and thumping each other in the shoulder.
‘That be a great punch,’ one Ironstone Rhungar pointed to his shining black eye, as if it were a badge of honour. Taem could see that eye would not be opening again for some time.
‘So do be this,’ the Claymore Rhungar pointed to the cut lip the other Rhungar had given him. Taem saw how the Claymore had needed stitches to put his lip back together.
‘Cheers!’ They both raised and clunked their tankards together, and gulped down some beer, whilst Taem shook his head in disbelief.
Taem saw Logan was not drinking beer, so he did not either. His stomach rumbled, as he gazed over the dishes of roasted wild boar, venison steaks, sirloins of beef and ribs of mountain bison.
‘It surprises me the tables of Khan Zhen have such wondrous variety,’ Taem gestured to all the different meats.
‘There be lots o’ animals do livin’ in mountains,’ Pendran sat next to Taem, ‘if yhee knows where ter look.’
‘What are these?’ Taem pointed to the roasted birds that were as big as small boars.
‘Gollys,’ Pendran ripped a huge leg off the roasted bird, and dumped it on Taem’s plate. ‘They be giant an’ flightless birds that do live in huge flocks in ye mountains. What else do take thy fancy?’
‘Steak is my favourite,’ Taem felt his stomach rumble again, as he set eyes on the pile of giant mouth-watering steaks. Pendran speared a great slab of steak with a serving prong, and slapped the meat down on Taem’s plate.
Taem ripped into the succulent steak, and had to make sure he did not drool everywhere, as the meat’s juicy red centre was revealed. As Taem savoured each chew of the delicious steak, he caught the frown on Baek’s face and smiled. The Aborle watched with disdain, as the Rhungars on either side of him ripped off strips of roast boar with their bare hands, and stuffed the meat into their mouths in between swigs of ale.
With the meats, Taem feasted on puddings and stuffings, and the perfect gravy. Needless to say, there was gallons of strong Rhungar beer to wash it all down with.
Taem marvelled at the towering dishes of roast potatoes, parsnips, carrots, suede, green peas, turnips, and steaming cabbage, leak and broccoli. Despite them being up in the mountains, Taem was surprised to see the full range of vegetables on the Rhungari tables – courtesy of Clan Browen Dal – but vegetables were merely secondary to the meats. Taem saw many Rhungars had plates stacked only with luscious flame-grilled or roasted cuts, and nothing else. Taem could certainly get used to eating like this!
‘Be tryin’ a wee bit o’ mountain boar,’ Pendran slammed a great chunk or wild boar on Taem’s plate.
‘I’m too full!’ Taem held up his hand in protest.
‘Go on,’ Pendran and the other Ironstone players encouraged him.
‘I cannot!’ Taem puffed.
‘Yhee be too skinny!’ The Rhungars chortled, as they piled yet more steaks on his overloaded plate.
Luckily for Taem, Ragad nodded at him, and he managed to pile most of the meat onto the Croma’s plate, whilst none of the Rhungars were looking.
After a drawn out dinner, during which Taem saw some Rhungars put away more food than he could manage in a week, the main course was cleared by the serving Rhungars to be replaced by cheeses, breads and biscuits, and then a huge selection of mammoth desserts. Taem’s eyes watered as he saw the sponge cakes, cheesecakes, apple pies, custard, treacle pudding, a range of nuts, fruit tarts and cream to dollop all over it. But he had eaten so much already, he could not manage any dessert.
Beer flowed freely, and Rhungars sang rousing choruses of their battle songs, always followed by a toast and the downing of entire tankards of Rhungari ale. Taem loved the cordial atmosphere of the Rhungar party. Rhungars became more forthcoming and friendly once they had each sunk twenty tankards of beer. He thought how there was no other people in Hathlore that could match the Rhungars for merrymaking, as he wearily headed for his bed in the early hours
, whilst the party was still in full swing.
By chance, the next day was another day of celebration for the Rhungars, called The Moon-Lantern Festival. The Rhungars needed little excuse to continue their merrymaking into that following day.
Forgrun showed the Hand of Fire around parts of the Rhungari city. Forgrun took the companions to the temples, where Rhungars could come any time of day to say prayers or give offerings to the Ancestor-Gods.
Taem saw how the temples were always watched over by a giant statue of their patron Ancestor-God. He found them tranquil, spiritual places, where numerous sticks of incense were always burning. Taem sighed as he inhaled the soothing aroma that lingered over the temples. These shrines were areas of calm in the otherwise hectic Under City. Taem watched as Logan and Forgrun lit a stick of incense each, and knelt down in front of a statute of Odrin. He decided to join them.
‘You are unusually quiet, Baek,’ Hirandar murmured, as the other companions watched Forgrun, Taem and Logan praying.
‘I am ashamed,’ Baek looked down at the floor. ‘I had assumed the Rhungars were just brutes and savages – but, as I look over this spiritual place, I know I was mistaken.’
‘Do not think too harshly of yourself,’ Hirandar placed a hand on Baek’s shoulder, ‘it takes a good man to admit when he is wrong.’
‘The Rhungars are savages,’ Ragad said.
Baek and Hirandar stared at the Croma with surprise.
‘But no more than I am,’ Ragad’s keen gaze turned to Baek, ‘or you are, Aborle.’
‘Well spoken indeed,’ Hirandar raised an eyebrow.
‘The Rhungars are not the only ones,’ Jvarna nodded to Ragad, ‘who are deeper than they seem on the surface.’
‘Evidently,’ Hirandar mused to herself, as Forgrun got up from praying, and made to lead the company on.
As they walked through Khan Zhen, Taem noticed the prayer tables by the sides of the streets, or within buildings. These stone tables were spectacular carvings with harsh edges, with a detailed statue of at least one of the Ancestor-Gods. Taem could see Odrin and Gromm were the prime choices, but other popular options were Decu, Joga, Claune the god of children and merriment, Nyna the god of the home, Karlstrom the glutinous god of beer and food, and Pfynere the god of wisdom and common sense.