“Bahadur.”
“Well, Bahadur, aren’t you experienced enough to know that kind of deal is out of the question?” It was, really. Two fighters not fighting for their lives was not a fight worth watching. And if a fight did not meet the standards of a good battle, the arena owner would make sure they got other things to fight instead. Like releasing wild animals into the fighting pit, or more fighters.
“I know” he nodded. “We’re also both experienced enough to not fear pain.”
“Or death” Avia added. Bahadur gave her a look. She considered his face. “You are afraid of death.”
“I never thought I would, but yes. When I became a father, things changed.” Father? That explained a lot. “I thought one last fight… But when I heard who I would fight against… I regret being so greedy.”
“No,” she said. “I can’t make you such deal. We need that spur to fight worth the money. You made your bed. Now you sleep in it.” His eyes glowered.
“Don’t worry. I make sure no one will hear of my visit here.” His voice was harsh, and the humiliation of the visit surfaced in his face.
“I count on it.” They gave each other a glare, and then he left.
When she stepped out into the arena, the audience cheered. Before they had silenced Bahadur came out opposite her, and the people around the fighting pit yelled even louder. They knew this man and had seen him many times before. She was the legend, the worthy opponent, but he was the one they hoped would win. And if he died he would die with honor and be remembered for a long time by his admirers. She reckoned they did not even know her name, just the rumors. Would they cheer for her if she won? They would not grieve her if she died, as they would with Bahadur.
It was fierceness in his eyes when he glared at her. She met his eyes with a steady stare, sending daggers back. He had a simple leather armor, not much different to what she wore herself on a daily basis. He had a sword in his right and a spear in his left. He had a more extensive range than her and probably the strength on his side. How fast was he? They began to circle. The spear was a weakness since it was easily broken; a lousy weapon when it came to defense. She decided for the goal to get really close to him and take him down. She would not stand a chance at a distance, because of his length, his spear, and the sword unless he got tired before her.
He lunged forward with a swing of his sword. Avia stepped aside and did not bother to return the attack. He was testing her. She wanted him to find out as little as possible. He tried a jab with his spear, and she took a leap out of his reach. So far it had been no problem to predict his moves, but he, just as she, might very well hold back to hide his assets. In that manner they danced around the arena for quite a while. She wanted him to make the first severe attack, and he apparently wanted the same for her. She thought she could wait him out and she was right. She noted he moved a bit closer for every step sideways and then he burst forward spear first, sword second. She focused on the spear, fending it down, leaping up on it, breaking it. When her feet reached the ground, she parried his sword with her right and aimed for his body with her left. Bahadur jumped away, and her blade gave him a light wound only.
Blood was drawn. The audience cheered. What she saw in his eyes made her uneasy. He was frightened. He had become the underdog. In two quick moves, she had turned his attack to her own and ruined one of his weapons. The furious outburst from him came as a surprise, and she backed away knocking into the arena wall. In the last moment, she rolled away, getting out in free space again. He swung around before she had the chance to attack. She saw the blood pouring down her right arm before she felt the wound. He must have hit her somewhere close to the shoulder. He still had the stub of the spear in his hand, and now he threw it at her. She had not removed a weapon from the game, just given him another. She saw the sharp edges of the broken wood fly towards her and knew it would hit her. It jammed in her left shoulder, and she stumbled backward, dropping her sword as she fought to keep her balance.
Furious she yanked the broken spear out and thrust it at her attacker as he raced towards her to finish her off. Throwing things had never been her strong suit, but for some reason she had more luck than she deserved. The sharp wood dug itself deep into his thigh, and he was on his knees. Blood pumped from her wounds. Her left arm was useless and without a weapon. Her right was cut bad but could still be functional with a bit of effort. She attacked him before he got to his feet. Before her sword reached its goal, darkness closed upon her mid-move. She felt the sand on the ground hit her face, and then all was black.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Putt
“How are you feeling?” the tall man asked. How did he feel? “Shall I carry some of that for you?” the man motioned for the two backpacks. Well, it was heavy to carry both. Putt handed one of them to the man who took both.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t mention it.” They continued to walk. “Is Avia your master?”
“No. Grandmother.” Though the man’s arms and face were covered with scares, he felt strangely safe in his presence. Maybe because the battle marks reminded him of his granny. His mind was one big whirl, and he wanted to get it back to normal again. “I’m an orphan. She tried to have me as her apprentice. But it didn’t work out.”
“Why?”
“I…” Putt hesitated. “I did everything wrong, I guess.” He had no idea if it was a wise thing to tell a stranger. He did not understand the world he lived in nowadays. It was tiresome.
“So what plans does she have for you now?” Putt listened to what the man said and its subtext.
“She lost today, didn’t she?”
“Yes.” Putt’s heart pounded. He did not dare to ask. Hope told him this man would not have fetched him if Avia was dead.
“Well… Then she doesn’t have a plan, I guess. If she had won, she would have used the money to put me in the wizard’s school.” The man walked in silence beside him. Putt hoped these things were not of the kind his granny would mind if he told a completely unknown man. She probably would, but he needed to talk to someone. And what did it matter? They would move on soon, and they would not meet him again. If she was alive. He did not dare to think she was not. Besides, she blamed him for so much it was hard to remember what he was allowed to do.
“Do wizards exist for real?” he asked. He had never heard of any wizards. On the other hand, what use did a farmer have of magic?
“A few.”
“And they really do magic? And not just tricks?”
“Tricks are useful too, but yes, they can do real magic.” He sounded so confident, so knowing.
“Does the school exist?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.”
“What can a wizard do?” It was more like a thought than a real question to this particular man. His eyes towered over him, as he was taller than most men he had met.
“Relax. You’ll soon be by your grandmother's side. She is hard to kill, you know.”
When she woke up she was in the room she had been waiting for the fight in. The bed was soft and comfortable. Putt was by her side and stroke a cold, wet rag over her forehead and cheeks. What had happened? She had had him. She was going for the lethal strike. It had been within her reach, and she had gone for it. She had been sure of victory.
“Granny? Are you feeling better?” Putt asked. Had she felt bad? In her last memory, she had she felt triumphal; felt success in her whole body. “You lost a lot of blood” Putt continued, as to explain his question. “They said you fainted on the arena.” Loss of blood. Of course! She was no longer young. Her body had not handled the damage as well as it used to.
“I hate being old,” she whispered.
“What did you say, granny?”
“I lost the fight.” Putt did not reply. She was alive and cared for. “What happened? Why am I here?”
“You were here when I came. You’ve been out for two days. Are you hungry?” Avia laughed. He was a sweet and caring boy.
“
No, dear, not yet.”
“I was asked to get the man who got me here when you woke up. Shall I get him now?” Raborast no doubt. Yes, she could just as much sort things out now. She nodded, and Putt left. She examined her wounds when he was gone. They had bandages, and they did not give her a great deal of pain unless she pressed on them. The left shoulder was worst. Her upper arm was fixed with bandaged to her torso. She guessed she would not fancy moving that arm much anyway at the moment. She was thirsty and wished she had asked Putt for something to drink before he left. He was not gone long. When he returned, it was not with Raborast, as she had expected, but with Bahadur, her opponent. She stared at him.
“Good to see you have some roses on your cheeks again” he grinned at her.
“Did you arrange this for me?” she asked in shock. Bahadur nodded.
“Why?” He shrugged.
“You had me. I owe my life to your loss of blood. Besides, you saved one of your opponents the day before our fight. Honestly, I didn’t feel it was a fair death for a great warrior as you to be fed to the beasts.” She was moved by this gesture which was an unusual feeling for her.
“Thank you. And congratulations to the winning.”
“My pleasure.”
“And mine too!” Putt stepped forward and held out his hand to Bahadur. “You saved my grandmothers life. I owe you my gratitude for the rest of my life.” He had a way of expressing himself sometimes Avia thought. Bahadur smiled and shook the boy’s hand.
“Guess we’re all winners then, in a way” Bahadur beamed. “The deal is that you stay until you feel you can continue wherever you want to go. You and the boy get what you need to survive. If you need me, Raborast knows where to find me. Otherwise, you’ll likely not see me again. You’re the greatest warrior I have ever faced, and I wish we had met in another place.” He bowed to her. “I wish you good luck in your life, Avia. And to you as well, boy.”
“Thank you. You fought well, Bahadur. I’m glad your child still has a father. Keep it that way.”
“I intend to.”
“All these efforts and we’re still just where we started” Avia complained. She heard herself whining and hated it. It did not bring anything to a solution. But she honestly did not know what to do. They were still in the room by the arena, though she knew it was time for them to leave soon. The damages were healing, and she could handle her right arm without effort. But where should they go? What should she do with her grandson? If she just kept him along, he would become an adult without a proper profession. He would not be able to support himself. They took a walk in the city. She wanted to know if she could manage to return to her vagabond life soon. And she also searched for a specific kind of shop. A shop she guessed could be found close to one of the main streets crossing the city, but not at the main street, but around the corner. She saw the door to a shop for magic potions about where she had thought she would. No matter city, they were so predictable.
Inside, its walls were dressed in light wood, and the floor was solid gray stone. A bell announced their entrance. Avia turned and saw a little brass bell hang over the door, and when she closed the door, the stick on its top hit the bell again. Not bad, she thought. A woman appeared just a moment after. Her looks were just as you expected of a magic potion shop - beads in her hair, odd and worn clothes in many layers and long fingernails. Avia could not help but wonder if those nails were real. They ought to be in her way sticking out from her fingers like that.
“Good evening. How can I be of service to you?”
“With information” answered Avia and went straight to the point. “What does it take for this boy to become a student at the wizard’s school? You went there, I presume.”
“Certainly I did.” The woman scanned the boy. “Does he even have any talent for magic?”
“How do I know if he has?” The shop owner turned and went to the back of the store and returned with two bottles. She uncorked one of them and held it out to Putt.
“What does this smell like to you?” He took a step forward, grabbed the bottle and sniffed suspiciously.
“Fresh grass. Wood.” Avia saw him smile all over his face. “A field of ripe wheat in the wind.” The women took the bottle back and gave him the other.
“And this?” He smelled again but jerked back.
“Rotten. Like a bad egg.” The shop owner corked both bottles.
“Don’t bother to take him there. He’s a farmer all the way to his bones.”
“If I do anyway, how much money do they want?” Avia insisted.
“They won’t accept him. Not without a talent. Will you pay me for this?” Avia left a coin on the counter and left. They returned to their room at the arena and ate dinner, though none of them had any appetite. Finally, Avia said:
“We pack and leave tomorrow morning.”
“To go where?”
“The wizards’ school.”
“But…” Avia held up her hand.
“It’s a long way there. We think of something. We need to get moving anyway. Can just as much go in that direction as anywhere else.”
The next day they packed the little they had. Putt was worried again. He wanted a stable place in life and had had so for quite a few days. The longest period since his parents died. But now they were about to leave again. He had never felt more like a burden than now. He had tried to prove himself over the last days, taking care of his grandmother the best way he could. But still, she could see no talent or purpose in his life. When they reached one of the city’s main roads, someone behind them called out for Avia. He turned, and when he saw who it was, he pulled Avia’s sleeve.
“It’s him!” He did not remember his name, but his grandmother frowned.
“Bahadur?” He caught up with them.
“You’re leaving.”
“Yes. Thank you for your care for us, but now it’s time for us to move on.” He nodded and did not seem surprised. Putt and Bahadur exchanged a look. Putt had heard he was a father of a little newborn girl. How he wished the tall man could be his father as well. Bahadur radiated such comfort and safety.
“What are your plans? If I may ask.” Putt had a feeling he was asking to learn Avia’s plans for him. He looked down at his feet. There were no plans.
“I’m a nomad. I take the day as it comes.”
“Go in piece, Avia.”
“Live your life well, Bahadur.” The adults said their goodbyes and Avia continued her walk. Putt lingered, looking back. It was something about Bahadur he could not understand. There was no reason for him to care. Avia and he and fought in the arena attempting to killing each other. Would not the typical reaction from Bahadur be to hate Avia? He missed the life he had had with his parents. This was not only a longing for his dead mother and father. It was a longing for a life that made sense, that he could grasp. People were so complicated outside his home village.
They walked along the main street. Putt breathed the dust, the heat, the smell of sweat and feces. He was not going to miss it. The delicious smell from the potion maker’s first bottle had reminded him what was outside of Posita. He looked ahead and saw where the city ended, abruptly. Avia had to slow him down because he had been rushing ahead. At last the town came to an end, but the road remained big and populated, air thick of dust. How long before they were alone on a path again? He spent a huge amount of time among people he did not know. Now he wanted solitude. It was something he seemed to have in common with his grandmother. She did not stop to talk to people unless she had to. She did not make small talk he had heard so many times from others. The two soldiers Sinik and Pho had talked a lot at nights, about plenty of insignificant stuff. It was like they could not sit down together without drowning the air between them with talk. He and his granny, they could sit in silence and still enjoy each other’s company. If he had had to talk like Sinik and Pho every night, he probably would have left Avia for any other option if he could. As it were now, his granny was his perfect company.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Visitors
He found them where they sat on some boulders, opposite each other, resting along the path. Down in the valley, the road had been no more than a cart wide when he left it. The couple had been easy to follow once he had put the city behind him. For them to take the unlikely path up the hill was easy to spot. It was much harder to track someone in a place with a lot of people. He stopped beside them on the path.
“I wish you long and happy lives” He smiled. The old woman he had been told was Avia became displeased at once.
“The same to you, stranger” she replied, a clear marking they did not know each other.
“My name’s Jadoog” he soothed. “May I sit down with you?” The child, Putt, moved aside so he could sit down on the same boulder as him.
“Much obliged.” He took off his backpack and sat down. Avia did not approve, but she did not protest. The bread he unpacked still had the freshly baked aroma about it. He cut it up and offered a share to Avia. She took a piece, but he felt her suspiciousness. The boy was easier to reach. He grabbed a slice gingerly.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Jadoog took a bite of the bread. He considered where to start.
“I heard you’re on your way to the wizard’s school” he began. The woman was alerted before he had finished. “I know you don’t know me, but you know Bahadur. He was the one telling me.”
“I don’t remember telling him such thing” Avia replied, sharp as a knife.
“I did” Putt confessed. “I told him.” Avia growled in frustration. “What? What’s the harm in telling?” the boy defended himself.
“No harm at all” Jadoog sided with him. “If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Yes. And?” Avia snapped back at him, not trying to be polite anymore. Jadoog did not mind much. He already knew her emotions.
“I’m a wizard. If Putt here shows the right talent, I’ll take him on as my apprentice. If it pleases you, of course.”
Caged Warrior (The Warrior and the Wizard Book 1) Page 10