City of Delusions (The Dying World Book 2)

by John Triptych

  Miri nodded. The Yidaar stable did not look very formidable. On the other hand, she noticed an armored giant of a man who was bringing up the rear of the column, surrounded by the largest crowds. No one seemed to be throwing any pebbles at him. “Who is that?” she asked, glancing back at the nine-foot tall man.

  Todrul didn’t even bother to twist his head back. He already knew. “That is Demalion the Colossus, the reigning champion of the Great Games. His stable is House Xorot. I hope you do not have to fight him.”

  Korbius had overhead them. He gave an audible snort. “If the Colossus were to go up against me, I shall have his head on a silver plate.”

  Todrul shook his head. “Be careful what you wish for, that man has slaughtered an entire stable once. All on his own.”

  Miri kept quiet. She didn’t care who she fought, for all she could think of was trying to find Rion.

  The streets began to widen, and they were soon walking into an open plaza that signified that they were now in the central district. This was the first time Miri had ever ventured into this part of Lethe, and she marveled at the huge, ancient buildings. Crowds of cheering freemen and slaves thronged their column as they all continued to advance towards the Central Arena. Beneath her mask, Miri gawked at the moment they passed through the massive arched entryway of the coliseum, the entire structure looked like it was able to hold a hundred thousand people all at once. Even though the seats in the audience area were only half full, there were dancers and musicians performing on the arena’s sandy floor. The pit fighters were soon divided up according to their stables once more, and each column was led to their respective barracks that flanked the amphitheatre.

  Vulre was one of the younger pit fighters in the Oranto stable, and he looked up to Miri. He had fought his first match less than a moon ago and won it by the skin of his teeth. The youth still walked with a limp from a nasty wound given to him by his last opponent. He quickly sat down beside her. “Did you ever see such a sight before, Miri?”

  Miri shook her head while taking off the mask. She adjusted the leather straps once more to make sure the fit was snug. “No, I never dreamed people could build such a place to be used for events like this.”

  A loud blaring of trumpets was heard, and a number of people stood up in surprise. A few slaves came into the compound, bringing jugs of watered wine which the fighters eagerly drank. Miri sensed that the audience in the stands of the arena was getting larger due to the ever increasing noise.

  Korbius was sitting on a stone bench all by himself. He had just taken off his breastplate and he leaned back down and placed his arms over his eyes. “It is best you fools get some rest, for our first match shall begin soon.”

  Vulre glanced nervously in his direction. “What makes you think that we shall fight in the first match?”

  “A little ret told me, you son of a canis.” Korbius pointed at Miri’s direction. “I heard that they want her killed off as quickly as possible.”

  Vulre was in shock as he looked back at Miri. “Why?”

  Korbius closed his eyes. “How should I know? What matters is that the odds will not favor us as long as Miri is alive. We shall fight against the most of powerful adversaries today.”

  A few hours later, twelve fighters from the Oranto stable, along with Miri, Korbius and Vulre, were sitting along an underground corridor. The bronze door at the end was closed, and they were required to venture out into the arena floor the moment it opened. Everyone was silent as they readied their weapons. Miri had chosen a spear with a quetzal wood shaft. It was not easy to procure, but she called in every favor with Matriarch Silili to get it, telling the head of House Oranto that it would make a huge difference in her fighting abilities. She continued to notice Korbius’s intense stares being directed at her. It seemed evident that he was up to something, so she kept him at arm’s length, and always in her field of vision. Miri also had a short sword sheathed at her side as an emergency weapon, along with an old shield made of bronze and leather.

  Todrul stepped inside the staging area, coming in from the opposite direction. His face indicated a foul mood. He glanced at both Miri and Korbius before he started talking. “Listen, I have just been informed that you will be fighting the Yidaar stable and it will be a multiple match. This means that all of you will be out there at the same time. Miri, Korbius- this is the moment to let go of your mutual hatred of each other. I consider you both as the leaders of this group, and you must work together if you are to survive until the next round. The two of you must offer guidance to the others, for you will need everyone to live through this.”

  Miri bit her lip. If there were a dozen of them, then there would be a dozen from the Yidaar stable. “Will they be armed the same way as we do?”

  Todrul shook his head. “No. Another house has decided to sponsor them and I only learned of this now. We used up all of our coin to equip you with the weapons and armor you have, yet I fear it will not be enough.”

  A fellow pit fighter stood up. His lips were trembling beneath his bronze helm. “But this is not fair!”

  “Nothing in life is fair!” Todrul said. “There is a chance you can still win this match, if you work together, remember that.” After he said those words, the head instructor turned around and went back out. The door at the opposite end closed behind him. The twelve men and women sat in stunned silence when the door leading out into the arena was suddenly flung open.

  Miri clutched her spear as she strode forward towards the open doorway. “Follow me.”

  When the twelve pit fighters came out, they were greeted with a tremendous roar. Miri looked up at the tens of thousands of people seated in the stands above her. Men, women and children from all walks of life had been galvanized into a fever pitch of anticipation. The stench of death was in the air. Glancing around her, Miri could see that the nobles had their own partition, just above the lowest levels, which gave them not only privacy from the vulgar masses, but the best views of the bloodletting that was about to commence.

  Rion was seated on fur cushions, right beside his Uncle Acro. Matriarch Cirine sat in the center of their private box, attended to by slaves who brought endless cups of wine and other refreshments. Sitting in a similar arrangement at the opposite side of the stands were the members of House Aranida. Both families faced each other, and Rion could see that Lord Falx of the City Watch had been seated beside Matriarch Tanys, openly flaunting his loyalty to the rivals of his family. Cirine’s two husbands sat just behind her, and Laox gave Rion a wink when the boy stole a glance over to them. Rion smiled back before looking out at the arena once more. It seemed that the trumpeters had finally finished and they were walking towards an adjoining tunnel to exit the floor before the real attractions were to begin.

  A portly crier, wearing a long, flowing white gown, stood on a podium in front of the lowest seats. He raised his arms up in the air to get the crowd’s attention as a metal door was opened, and twelve pit fighters emerged onto the sandy ground. “People of Lethe, I present to you the first match of the Great Games,” he bellowed. “In that part of the arena, we have the best warriors of House Oranto! They are led by … the Red Gorgon!”

  The crowd went wild. Rion placed a hand above his brow so he could focus his eyes to get a closer look. The Red Gorgon carried a spear and wore hardened leather armor with riveted metal plates on them. She had a mask on, but the way she moved clearly indicated she was indeed Miri. Rion had wanted to cry out to her and run down the stands and into the arena, but he quickly sensed his mother’s mental tendrils probing his mind again. The boy covered up his true thoughts by imagining what it would be like being a pit fighter, constantly replaying the stances, feints and attacks in his mind that were taught to him by the house bodyguards. He continued this train of thought until he sensed that the mental probing had gone away.

  The crier gestured at the other end of the arena as the adjoining door began to open at the other end. “And in that part of our great amphitheatre,
we have the greatest warriors of House Yidaar, the Metal Beast!”

  The crowd leapt up in thunderous applause as a strange noise, akin to grinding metal and growling thunder, began to reverberate from the dark tunnel beyond. From his vantage point, Rion could see a glint of bronze that indicated something huge was lurking inside the corridor. As the memories of his time in the desert began to coalesce in his mind, the boy let out a muted gasp.

  Miri saw that the door behind them had closed, but their opponents had not yet revealed themselves, while the sounds coming from the opposite passage grew ever louder. She quickly scanned the arena floor. Todrul had told her about the rumors of underground tunnels buried beneath the sand, but she could see no indications of it. The terrain all around them was flat, and there was no place to hide against whatever it was that would emerge at the opposite end.

  Vulre was visibly shaking as he clutched his shield and bronze axe. “What is in that tunnel?”

  Miri held the bronze shield in front of her. “Whatever happens, stay together. We must fight as one.”

  Korbius spat on the ground before strapping on his bronze helm. “We would have had an easier time if you were dead.”

  Another pit fighter who stood with them banged his sword on his shield. “Silence, Korbius! Miri is our ally!”

  Korbius held his shield up while drawing his own sword. “Once you see what we are facing against, you will regret saying those words.”

  “Keep your eyes ahead and stop bickering,” Miri said tersely.

  When their opponents finally ventured out of the tunnel, all of them drew their breaths in utter surprise. What came out seemed to be a metallic vehicle of some sort. It had four stone wheels and its body was made of hammered bronze. Great gouts of steam emanated from multiple chimneys along its back. The strange contraption seemed to move slowly, and Miri could see a half dozen slaves from the open cracks near its underside, toiling away at what looked to be some sort of metallic machine in its interior. Sitting at the top of the twenty foot tall hood were five men and a woman in armor, with strips of leather that ran from hooks in their backs and attached to the vehicle. They had bows in their hands and leather quivers filled with bone arrows slung over their shoulders.

  “Shield wall!” Miri shouted as their opponents began to knock back arrows on their bows while the machine slowly headed towards them. All the pit fighters beside her brought their shields up as a half-dozen arrows flew at them. A few of the projectiles bounced away due to the angle of attack, while two embedded themselves into shields.

  Suddenly, the strange vehicle began to pick up speed as it barreled towards them. Two of Miri’s fellow pit fighters panicked and ran towards the sides of the arena, the crowd jeering at them before they were cut down by the archers standing on top of the machine. One of the two was hit by an arrow in the leg, and limped away. The second man took an arrow in his hip and fell screaming to the ground. For a brief moment, the entire contingent of House Oranto was frozen with confusion and fear. The vehicle wobbled as it seemed to steer itself directly into their path. A series of long metal spikes suddenly jutted out from the stubby front of the metal monstrosity, intending to impale them all.

  Miri knew that to stay where they were would result in their collective deaths. “At my command, split the shield wall in two- now!”

  The remaining ten pit fighters split into two groups as they moved sideways while keeping their shields at the direction of the enemy. The vehicle passed right through the lane that they had just vacated, but one of the fighters had moved too slowly and got caught underneath the stone wheels, crushing his ankles. One of the archers from the top fired an arrow into the back of his exposed neck, killing him instantly. There were only nine of them now.

  Miri’s shield had an arrow embedded on it as she kept the four men with her in a half circle, their large shields covering their bodies from the incessant arrows that were being loosed at them. “Back up, slowly,” she ordered, hoping that they would get at the man who was wounded in the leg near the arena wall.

  The vehicle slowly turned to its right while Korbius ordered the three men with him to charge at its back. The small group held their shields out in front as the vehicle kept trying to turn around, but its front wheels were pivoting too slowly. The archers on the top sensed the immediate threat and let loose multiple arrows at Korbius’s group, but their shields took most of the volley. One man held his shield too low and promptly took an arrow in his right eye, falling onto the ground, mortally wounded.

  Just as Korbius and his two remaining companions got close, the vehicle suddenly reversed into them. One of the two men running with Korbius didn’t have time to react, and he collided with the vehicle’s rear, his body crushed as the metal monster’s stone wheels rolled on top of him. Korbius and the second man dove to the side, but one of the archers was able to shoot an arrow into the side of the second man’s knee, causing him to slip and fall, his shield clattering away in the dust. The other archers promptly let loose another volley, piercing through his leather gambeson and left him mortally wounded. Korbius backed away to the side of the wall, his shield full of arrows as the vehicle passed him by.

  Miri could see the vehicle rounding the opposite side of the oval, in due time it would be able to complete its wide turn and go back to face them once more. As the remaining men formed a circle around her, she crouched down and turned over the wounded man who had been hit in the leg. The man was dead, his face turned purple. Miri scowled in despair. The arrows were poisoned tipped. Seeing the other corpse nearby, she thought of a plan.

  “That thing is coming back,” Vulre said.

  “All of you keep a tight wall in front,” Miri said. She tapped the shoulders of the man nearest to the other corpse. “Turriak, you and I must get that other man on the ground, drag his body and shield over to us.”

  Turriak grunted in affirmation. He was the strongest in the stable. He quickly ran over to the second dead man and dragged him back to where they were. Miri placed the two corpses on top of each other, then placed their shields in a sloped position over them before adding her own. She could hear the slapping noise as more arrows began to embed the shield wall in front of her.

  “Miri, they are picking up speed, they shall be upon us in an instant,” Vulre said, his voice filled with desperate panic.

  Miri stood behind the four men as she peered through their shield wall. “At my command, all of you lower your shields on the ground and move sideways to evade that thing. Wait. Wait. Now!”

  Just as the speeding vehicle was about to ram them with its front spikes, Miri and her companions scattered towards the side. The shields that they had placed on the ground had formed a ramp, and the vehicle’s right front wheel drove over it. The mechanism suddenly lurched sideways as the weight of its heavy wheels on its left side became unbalanced, and the entire vehicle tipped over and fell onto its side, sending the archers on its top sprawling into the dusty ground.

  “Attack!” Miri said as she charged into the confused masses of men. She thrust her spear at one of the archers who had fallen, goring his side.

  Vulre swung his bronze axe, but his angle was wrong. It merely bounced off his opponent’s metal helmet, bending the edge. As the youth tried to back away, the pit fighter from House Yidaar drew his sword and plunged it into Vulre’s abdomen, seriously wounding the youth. Miri cried out and speared Vulre’s opponent at the back of his neck, killing him instantly. Turriak was able to kill two archers with his sword, but one of the slaves picked up an arrow and stuck it to his leg. Turriak turned and swung back, decapitating the slave with a single blow, before the poison began to slow him down. One of the archers shot an arrow at point-blank range into another Oranto pit fighter before he was run through with a bronze sword.

  Miri seethed with rage as she used her spear to gore another slave that tried to pick up a weapon. The steam from the infernal machine made everything harder to see. Another slave came up behind her, ready to plunge a
bone knife at her back until a sword blow felled him from behind. Miri turned, her spear at the ready.

  It was Korbius. He ran all the way from the other side of the arena. “That is one life you owe me.”

  Miri nodded in silent thanks. She ran over to where Vulre and Turriak were, but they were already dead from the poison. Fighting back the tears, she surveyed the carnage all around her. Along with Korbius and the other man, there were only three of them left.

  In between the matches, there was an apparent commotion near one of the private partitions in the noble’s seating area. Rion wiped the sweat off his forehead as he noticed Miri walking away from the battle that had just concluded. A great sense of relief came over him. The boy was glad that she was still alive. That strange vehicle had nearly spelled the end of her.

  Acro made his way back to his seat, having made his way over to where an argument had occurred near the other side of the amphitheater. He sat down with a tired huff, and beckoned at one of the slaves hovering nearby. “Bring me another cup of wine.”

  Rion turned his attention over to his uncle. “What happened, Uncle?”

  Acro shrugged nonchalantly as he accepted the wine. “It seems that one of the minor houses accused another of having cheated in this match.”

  “Which houses were they?” Rion asked.

  “House Oranto, who won, and House Yidaar, the ones who brought out that vehicle,” Acro said. “It seems that those archers of House Yidaar were using poison in their arrows, which made the battle grossly unfair. Nevertheless they lost, thanks to the Red Gorgon.”

  Rion looked to the other side of the stadium. All the matriarchs had gathered, and they looked to be in a heated discussion. The matriarch of House Oranto could be seen shaking her fist at the head of House Yidaar. Matriarch Cirine seemed to be keeping the two sides apart, while Matriarch Tanys of House Aranida stood to the side, apparently taking a neutral stance. What made it even more interesting was when the Yidaar matriarch would occasionally glance at Cirine, indicating an unspoken agreement between them. Rion could have sworn that they were using their mindsense to try and pry each other’s thoughts, and the whole thing might very well devolve into an open conflict. Just when it seemed they were about to attack each other physically, both Cirine and Tanys stood together and gestured for the arguing to end. The Oranto matriarch turned and walked away, still fuming, but seemingly aware that further strife would be detrimental. The matriarch of House Yidaar also went back to her partition, but instead of sitting down, she seemed to gesture at her retainers to follow her as she made her way to the exit.