by E B Rose
Beast stood in front of the doors. A thin, orange line marked the gap between them. It must have been just after midday outside. He could hear the cheers of the spectators, demanding blood. Beast’s heart raced in its cage and he was amused to discover his thirst for a fight.
When Valnar put his hand on Beast’s left shoulder, the slave recoiled. “No, don’t say it!” Beast yelled in panic, thinking Valnar was going to speak his Kill Word.
Valnar’s eyebrows shot up, then furrowed into a scowl. “Relax,” he said. He pulled his knife out and drew a wide circle on the sandy floor around them. He pulled Beast on his knees, then kneeled himself. With one hand on Beast’s shoulder and the other on Kiejain’s symbol on his breastplate, Valnar started praying.
“Uniting Kiejain, the first Rider, the first warrior, the first husband, the wisest of them all...”
Beast gritted his teeth. Although he was annoyed at first - he had no affection for the Twelve, and no reason to believe they would lift a finger for him - Valnar’s act filled his heart with a warm feeling he couldn’t describe. He tried not to listen, but he couldn’t help it.
“Keep this warrior safe today. Stand by him. Bless his sword, so it may be the sharpest. Bless his armour, so it may be the hardest.”
Outside the double doors, the crowd quietened when the announcer started speaking. Beast picked out the words ‘purebred’ and ‘roast’. He made to stand up and take his position by the door, but Valnar grabbed his arm and kept him on his knees.
“Bless his mind, so it may be sharper than his sword...”
The announcer yelled: “Without further ado, please welcome our shepherds to the stage! Shepherds, take your positions!”
Muffled by the deafening roar of the spectators, Beast heard the thick sound of galloping horses on the sand. It was almost time for him.
“Bless his rhoa,” Valnar said softly. “So it may be the truest.”
Beast’s grey eyes grew large. He thought Valnar didn’t believe he possessed a rhoa.
Valnar let go of his arm and Beast stood up slowly. He had a lump in his throat. Behind him, the announcer was telling the crowd to be quiet and welcome the bull.
“Good luck,” Valnar said.
Beast nodded and turned just in time when the doors started sliding open. The orange light grew thicker, until it became the battlefield in front of him. Beast blinked his eyes rapidly, to force them to adjust to the light as quickly as possible. He stepped out and studied the field in the space of two heartbeats, before the announcer started the Fire Breath.
42
BEAST
The sand was painted in different colours, marking different zones and areas. It was bright red where Beast first walked into the arena, followed by a golden strip. His eyes scanned the coloured markings, until he located the blue zone more than a hundred feet ahead of him.
He ran.
Six horsemen charged into the arena; three on his left and three on his right. The crowd shouted in excitement. Beast only needed a second to judge the distance between them and understand he wasn’t going to make it into the blue zone before the riders got to him.
He drew his Lor’Kas while still running and prepared to greet the first attacker.
VALNAR
Valnar jumped up the stairs underneath the arena three at a time. They were given a private box near the side of the stage. Lowest row, closest to the stage, yet still felt like a world away to Valnar, who had lost sight of Beast as he made his way there.
When he heard the spectators holding their breath in unison, Valnar held his. The roar which followed the brief tension was deafening.
By the time Valnar came out of the underground stairway and ran along the side of the stage, the fight had already begun. He was relieved and proud to see that Beast had drawn the first blood. He found both Lygor and Ink leaning over the balusters, watching the fight intently. They hardly even acknowledged Valnar’s presence.
Valnar still felt the same dread when he looked down at the stage. He’d claimed the Union had played Lygor into signing up for this, though he couldn’t tell what they would gain from getting Lion of Zarall killed. He was sure that was their intention though.
This arena was built to kill beasts.
The egg-shaped arena was separated into red, gold, and blue zones. Both the red and gold zones were also marked with randomly scattered purple circles and small fire pits.
The sand in the area where Beast first started was coloured in blood red, so was the area at the other end of the arena. After the red zone, gold coloured regular sand stretched for a good hundred feet, cluttered with nearly twenty purple spots and fire pits. The gold zone was followed by a narrow slice of blue zone. Then, came the fire river.
A long, wide trench was dug to divide the arena in two halves. It was filled with firewood and set on fire. In three places along the fire river, stone pedestals were placed to form three crossings to the other side. The pedestals varied in size; some were too small to step on with both feet, while others were large enough to allow two people sitting. The placing of the stone pedestals made each of the three crossings equally difficult, not to mention Beast was wearing a flammable helmet that could easily catch on fire.
After the fire river came another thin slice of blue zone, a long stretch of gold zone, and then a red zone. Beast’s goal was to cross the whole arena and step into the black square inside the red zone which marked the ending.
However, the fire river wasn’t Beast’s only obstacle; he also needed to defend himself against six mounted warriors called ‘The Shepherds’.
Valnar glanced at the score board at the far end of the arena. Shepherds were free men and each one of them were represented on the board with a symbol and two colours. Their goal was to collect the most points before Beast made his way to the finishing square. They all currently stood at zero points, though Valnar still couldn’t find any reason to relax.
Beast was making a stand in the middle of the gold zone, while the shepherds attacked him from every side. He was less than fifty feet away from the blue zone, where he would be untouchable for the duration of three minutes. However, the shepherds didn’t allow him to go any further and continued to ride around him in confusing patterns while simultaneously attacking with their clubs and maces. All Beast could do was to parry and dodge their attacks, while trying to find a path to the safety of the blue zone.
Once, he found an opening amongst their flanks, but he wasn’t fast enough and was cut off immediately.
“Strike me down Twelve times!” cursed Valnar out loud.
It was the bloody chain shirt! The armour, which Valnar had insisted Beast to wear, was now slowing him down. Valnar had seen him move a lot faster than he did now. The slave had insisted on agility, and Valnar hadn’t listened. Although it wasn’t a heavy armour, it was still taking a toll on Beast’s agility.
It was going to get him killed.
Beast parried another attack, then attempted to dash. A horseman charged his horse behind him and brought his mace down on Beast’s back.
BEAST
The chain shirt had lessened the blow.
Beast was grateful to Valnar for insisting on an extra layer of protection.
Still, he’d felt the full force of the impact. Pain exploded in his lower back and the air escaped from his lungs. He collapsed facedown, struggling to breathe and holding his back with his free hand.
His Lor’Kas was knocked out of his hand, though he was lucky it was still within arm’s reach. Beast coughed, gasped for air, and somehow convinced his body to grab his weapon and get up. To his surprise, the riders allowed him a couple of seconds to pull himself up on his feet.
The blue zone was still too far. Beast ducked as one of the riders swung his club over his head. They weren’t going to let him run there.
Beast needed to change his strategy.
VALNAR
They hung one wooden plate on the score board, under the red and white symbol. Those we
re the colours of the shepherd who’d managed to hit Beast for the first time.
For the first time, Valnar repeated inside his head dreadfully. It wasn’t going to be the last.
Lygor was leaning with his hands on the stone balusters. Although his face didn’t give away much, blood was drained from his knuckles as he clutched at the structure as if Beast’s life depended on it. Ink stood next to him, his arms crossed and his face a mask of silent fury.
Striking at him when Beast was on the floor gave shepherds no points, so they waited until he climbed back up on his feet. The crowd cheered on when Beast ducked under the next blow. He made another desperate dash towards the blue zone. In an effort to confuse his pursuers, he ran from side to side in random patterns.
One of the shepherds - green and purple coloured symbol - caught up with him and aimed his spiked club at the back of Beast’s helmet. Just when Valnar was praying the helmet was as sturdy as it looked intimidating, Beast dropped on his haunches so that the blow went wide. He jumped straight back on his feet, turned, and slashed the next rider’s side.
Valnar shared the surprise of the viewers. The rider with the silver and yellow symbol dropped his weapon and sat crooked on his horse. Beast grabbed the horse’s saddle, stepped on the man’s foot to pull himself up and finished the job by slashing his throat.
An arena staff took the silver and yellow symbol off the score board.
Beast took wide steps, his Lor’Kas a blur over his head. He parried the attacks while searching for an opening in any of the shepherds’ defences. He wasn’t trying to get to the blue zone anymore. He was going to get these men out of his way, then cross the arena in peace.
When he got too close to one of the purple spots, a rider distracted him with a frontal attack, while another one bludgeoned him from behind and into the purple spot.
The crowd went wild. A horn sounded to indicate a half a minute break for Beast, while an arena staff recorded three wooden plates for the shepherd with the black and green colours.
“He looks hurt,” Lygor gritted his teeth.
Valnar wanted to say something to soothe him, but he couldn’t think of one. Beast did look hurt. He was struggling to get up, though it was okay; he still had time. Whenever he got struck into one of the purple spots, he would be given thirty seconds to rest. Though the time-out was only given if he was hit while inside a purple spot, so simply walking into one didn’t work.
Striking Beast into a purple spot also meant more points for the shepherds.
This was a sick game, and Beast was right; Fire Breath wasn’t designed for beasts to win.
Beast pushed himself up on his knees and looked to his right. His Lor’Kas lay there, out of his reach. The horn sounded again to announce the break was over.
The riders charged. At the same time, Beast lunged for his weapon. One of the shepherds - Red-and-White - pulled out a weighed net from behind his saddle. He rode past Beast and threw the net over him.
Lygor cursed out loud.
Beast tripped on the net, fell and got himself tangled further. The net pinned his arms at his sides. He thrashed like a captured animal.
Without getting off his horse, the shepherd pulled several ropes to tighten the net around Beast. Then, he turned his horse towards one of the small fire pits, where he would score ten points for throwing Beast inside.
BEAST
The horns of the bloody helmet were tangled with the net.
Beast reached for his dagger. He pulled it out with a twist of his wrist and started cutting. However, even if he managed to cut the net open, he would still have to untangle the helmet.
The golden sand filled inside his clothes and armour as the rider dragged him behind his horse. Beast rolled to his side and looked ahead. A weak yelp escaped his throat. He didn’t have time for anything. The fire pit was just ahead.
Beast closed his eyes and braced for being thrown into the burning pit. He almost heard the sound the flames would make when his helmet caught on fire. He wondered if he could survive this.
He didn’t want to die.
The heat never came. When he opened his eyes, he saw the fire pit growing distant behind them. The shepherd didn’t throw him in there. Why?
The golden sand underneath him turned red.
The red zone.
The rider had dragged him back into the red zone at the start and was heading towards another fire pit there. The shepherd’s greed had earned Beast precious extra seconds, though he still had no way of untangling the helmet.
Then, he had an idea. He twisted to reach the net around his legs and started cutting.
VALNAR
Shepherds earned double points for everything they did in the red zone. Hitting Beast while he was in the red zone meant two points, instead of one. Striking him into a purple spot in the red zone meant six points.
Throwing him into a fire pit in the red zone meant twenty points, instead of ten. Greed had gotten the best of the rider with the red and white colours.
The crowd jumped up on their feet and yelled their encouragements.
“We need to stop this,” Ink growled. His face was pale.
Lygor couldn’t take his eyes off Beast. A frustrated snarl twisted his mouth. He mumbled something that sounded like a prayer. Valnar held his hand on his chest and joined in: “Kiejain, the first warrior. Help him stand up and help him stand true...”
He could see Beast rolling and thrashing inside the net, still trying to cut free, though there was almost no time left. Just when Valnar was wondering maybe Ink was right, maybe they should have stopped the fight, Beast’s feet came out of the net. Half his body was still inside the net and his helmet was stubbornly tangled, but he managed to turn himself and bury his heels in the sand. Kicking with his feet on the floor, he allowed the net to pull him up. Then, he snuck his hand out of the net and threw his dagger at the rider.
The shepherd held his bleeding neck and slid off his saddle. The horse slowed down to a stop. Beast lost his balance and rolled on the floor, then sprang up on his feet and pulled the net off his headgear after several attempts.
He wasn’t out of the danger though; he was still too close to the fire pit and the remaining four shepherds were nearby.
Beast dodged the first two by ducking and stepping to the side. The other two stretched another net between them and charged, herding Beast towards the fire pit. Instead of trying to get out of their way, Beast ran towards the pit.
“Is he out of his mind?” Ink exclaimed.
While Beast sped up towards the fire pit, Lygor leaned over the balusters, as if getting ready to jump himself. Valnar made a desperate attempt to calculate the weight Beast was carrying, his speed and the width of the pit. It was impossible.
The spectators stood up, yelling their encouragements and daring him to jump.
Valnar couldn’t help but wondering, if Beast didn’t make the jump, who would get the points?
Beast didn’t make the jump. Instead, he threw himself on the ground, flat on his stomach. He covered the horns of the helmet with his hands. The net scraped his back harmlessly. As soon as the riders passed him, Beast was on his feet and running in the other direction.
Lygor let out a chuckle that sounded like a gasp. He was smiling proudly. The rest of the arena didn’t share his relief; they were shouting their disappointments. Someone demanded the shepherds roast him. Others joined in, chanting for ‘roast beef’. Valnar wished he could shut them up.
The two shepherds had to let go of the net, because their horses came too close to the flames and they needed both hands to regain control. However, the other two were right behind Beast.
He randomly changed directions, trying to shake them off with quick turns. The riders didn’t hurry; they waited until he got too close to one of the purple spots, then attacked from both sides.
Beast stopped zigzagging, turned his back to the purple marked sand, raised his forearms together, his fists pointing up, in front of him. He greet
ed the blunt of the first attack with his iron bracers and allowed himself to be thrown into the purple zone.
The horn sounded, giving Beast a thirty second break. The shepherd earned six points.
“Smart,” Lygor said, grinning.
“Are you sure?” Ink countered.
The four riders came together. They started riding in a circle around the purple spot. Whichever way Beast came out, they were going to bludgeon him back into the spot. Beast sat on his bottom, rubbing his arms, while his head turned from side to side, scanning for a way out.
The horn sounded again.
Beast dashed forward. Instead of trying to pass between the horses, he slid under one of them. The riders fell behind him. Beast crossed back into the golden zone and ran straight toward another purple spot. He stopped and formed a shield with his forearms again, but the nearest rider aimed for his head, instead of his chest. Beast raised his arms up in the last second and managed to greet the attack. However, his own arms smashed against his face, and he fell hard into the purple zone.
The horn announced another break. Beast pushed himself up on his hands and knees. He was shaking his head, dazed. Valnar saw blood on his face.
“I hope that...” Lygor started, but he didn’t finish. Beast was on the move again.
Instead of waiting for the horn, Beast sacrificed his break, in a desperate attempt to surprise the riders. It almost worked, but they still caught up to him before he could get into the blue zone. Beast trailed towards another purple spot. He covered his head with his arms and braced for the attack.
The shepherd got him just below his left arm.
“He’s so close,” growled Lygor.
It was true; the blue zone was only ten feet away. One of the shepherds stood between him and the relative safety of the blue zone, while the other three surrounded him.
“He’s injured,” said Ink. He was biting his nails.
“He’s fine,” Lygor denied stubbornly, though Valnar was afraid Ink was right. Beast was still laying in the purple sand, holding the left side of his midsection and rolling from side to side. He was in pain.