He clanged his gauntleted hands together. "But you made it. That in itself is very impressive. I’d take my hat off to you, but honestly, I'm not sure this thing can come off anymore."
As he continued cackling, Rich stepped forward, his sword drawn. "We don’t have time for this. My mother's been mortally wounded and needs help. You have healers here, don't you?"
The Gray Knight stopped laughing. "We have everything here, lad. The question is, what are you willing to pay for such services?”
"Tell me how to help her, or I will test how easily the helmet comes off," Rich said, waving his sword.
A deep growl dark sounded in the back of the Gray Knight’s throat. "Perhaps you are forgetting who is in charge here," he said, his voice sick with menace. “If you want something, you must pay dearly, by treasure or by trial. I understand you want to see the sovereigns too. That will also cost you."
"Enough," Phillip snapped. "She isn't going to last long."
For some reason, the Gray Knight found this funny. "You know she's going to end up here one way or another, don’t you?”
"What do you mean, you bag of bolts?" Bruno asked. "I'm with you, Rich. I think it's time somebody new was in charge.”
As Bruno advanced with his sword raised, the Gray Knight pointed in his direction. There was no flashing light, no bolt of power. Bruno just stopped, the color draining from his face until he looked like he was made up of nothing but various shades of gray. He remained upright and breathing, but he stared ahead like a living statue.
“Now I'm only gonna say this once," the Gray Knight said with a sigh. "Two ways to pay. You can give up items of such incredible value that they belong in the museum we have here, or you can submit to trial by combat under the command of the sovereigns. There's no third choice, and there's no turning back. What do you say?”
"What you want?" Phillip asked. "My sword—my armor? I didn't know we were supposed to bring treasure with us.”
The Gray Knight shook his head, the movement making his armor squeak loudly. "Oh, I doubt you have anything valuable enough to pay your way. I think it will be trial by combat, then. Whatever form of combat the sovereigns see fit. They do like to switch things up every now and again. You'll end up fighting each other, but that shouldn’t surprise you. I mean, I reckon that's the status quo. If you survive, you get what you want.”
He gestured to the stands full of cheering knights. Nadia didn't understand what he meant. "Who are all these people? Did they come through the maze like we did?" she asked.
The Gray Knight turned to Nadia. "Well, hi there. I don't think we've been properly introduced. My name is Leonis, and I'm first lieutenant to Lady Temperance, Queen of Balance. To answer your question, the stands are full because this is where most of the knights from either side who die end up. You see, none of us can go to our eternal rest—oh, no, not yet. Some decide to come back and fight, some wander the earth, but most of them end up here. They cheer on their sovereign, lending him power and are often called on to fight. So if the woman here dies, she can simply choose to join the crowd in the stands. I imagine she'll be much more comfortable that way, wouldn't you think?"
"It's a deal, Leonis," Phillip said. “We’ll fight to get an audience with the sovereigns and a healer for my wife. You have to keep her alive in the meantime."
The Gray Knight rubbed his hands together. "That sounds like a plan. Oh, this should be good, good, good! Just follow me. All paladins will go to the left, all nemeses to the right. You should have one of you stay with your civilian.”
Nadia cut in before anyone could comment on there only being one civilian. "Angela and I can just stay together," she said. "We'll be fine."
"As you wish," he said. "Come quickly."
By this time, Bruno had thawed to become his normal grumpy self and limped along after the others.
The Gray Knight led them to a long flight of stairs toward the base of the coliseum. He took them underground into stone tunnels lit by torches, and they reached a point where they could only proceed right or left. Rich, Aaron, and Phillip, carrying his wife, took the way to the left, trying to hurry, while Bruno, Jezreel, and Mallory took the corridor to the right.
The Gray Knight tapped a spot on the wall, and a third way opened straight ahead. "Come along, you two. I have excellent seats for you.”
Nadia followed him up another flight of steps and into the openness of the coliseum. He led them toward a sort of box containing two plush chairs that had a wall around it. Just then, the crowd started cheering, and it was the most deafening sound she’d ever heard. She’d been to a few rock concerts before, but this was like cranking it up to an eleven.
The noise died down. Nadia lowered her hands from her ears and took one of the seats. She didn't like what was going on, but it felt incredible to sit down on something so comfortable.
The Gray Knight tapped the top of one chair. "Only the best for my special guests," he said. "Enjoy the match. I suspect I will."
He was about to go, but then leaned in and spoke so Nadia could hear. "By the way, that was very sly to prevent exposing what you are. Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."
Nadia sat stunned. How had he known? She didn’t trust this guy, either, so his words weren’t much of a comfort.
"I don't like this," Angela said as the Gray Knight walked away. "We shouldn't be here in the spectator box. We’ve got to help them."
Nadia hung her head, shaking it slowly. "I don't think we can now. This is a knight thing."
She put her face in her hands, trying to control her feelings. Come on, Rich, she thought. You've taken on crazy things before and won. Just do it one more time and surprise everyone.
But as Nadia watched the battle rage, she knew this was no obstacle course or spelling bee, or something silly like that. This was life or death, and there was a very good chance she'd never see Rich alive again.
CHAPTER 19: THE PALADIN GLADIATORS
The healer met Rich and Phillip in the tunnels. He looked like an old paladin, with a trailing gray beard and robe. He took Maria from Phillip and laid her on a cushioned ledge. "As per my instructions," the healer said, "I will keep her alive as long as you're fighting. If you win, I will use my craft to heal her as completely as I can. If you lose, I shall leave and let nature take its course."
Rich wanted to interject that there was nothing natural about this, but instead, he just nodded and thanked the man. The Gray Knight led them through more twisting hallways and out a long tunnel that had a metal gate at the end. "This is the entrance to the arena. Once the current match is concluded, the gates will open and you will proceed immediately through them. Hesitate, and you’ll find out what kind of pets I keep down here to gobble up stragglers."
Rich balled his fists, resisting the urge to lash out. He didn't want to experience what Bruno had gone through because he defied the Gray Knight, whatever that was.
The Gray Knight turned to go. "I'd say good luck, but you're going to need so much more than that. Well done, getting through the maze. That was quite spectacular. Not too many people manage that, you know? I’ll add your names to the little plaque in the museum.” He then turned and stomped off down the hallway, his armor creaking the entire way.
Rich turned to his father and grabbed his arm. "Are you ready for this, Dad? I’m glad I don’t have to fight alone.”
Phillip cleared his throat. "Roger that. I’m glad you’re here too, son. I’ve run off into way too many fights alone. And it might be nice to finally knock some nemesis heads together for a change, huh?”
Rich let out a tired laugh. "You said it." He sighed and asked his father something that was bothering him. "While I was in training, Arlenen showed
me a vision of this place. The two sovereigns are still fighting each other. But unless they’re hiding in those huge statues …”
"Yeah, I doubt that,” Phillip said. “But I'm sure they're still pulling the strings. They’ve got to give the spectators what they want. They can gain some power from them, remember? If it were the same old fight all the time, a lot of them would get up and leave. Besides, their powers are growing weaker and weaker, and it might be that they can't fight very well for themselves now. Hard to know, though. We can ask them when we see them."
The cheering from outside intensified to the highest level yet, and the gate at the end of the tunnel rose slowly.
Phillip reached over and patted Rich on the back. "I’m proud of you, son. Let's do this."
“For Mom?”
“For Mom.”
They both withdrew their swords and ran for the exit as fast as their weary legs could take them.
They emerged into the bright outdoors, and it took them a moment squinting to adjust to the light. Rich could see other knights coming out of tunnels on their side, all of them paladins, while on the other side, a group of dark knights emerged. He took a quick count of their numbers. Exactly sixteen on both sides. That felt very familiar.
All of the knights ran toward the center of the arena, those reaching it lining up in rows, like they had done this before. Rich followed, looking at the dark knights that had come out against them. Mallory was there, and Bruno too. Then there was Jezreel, grinning wickedly, who joined her niece in the back line.
Rich could see that one end of the coliseum held an enormous dark throne over which a bright pale light shone. On the throne sat a hooded figure in black, but Rich could not see his face. This must be Nemes and his Moonstone. He turned around to look at the other end of the arena and saw a figure in white robes who also concealed his face. Bright golden light shone from above his head—the Sunstone.
Some of the imagery from the door with the telescope room made more sense. Temperance and the Gray Knight were trying to eclipse the other knights, dimming both day and night, chaos and order into gray.
A booming voice echoed through the coliseum, and Rich recognized it as the Gray Knight’s. "By the will of the sovereigns, the next match will be a duel of sixty-four! Each sovereign will appoint a king in proxy and choose all of the other pieces from the assembled knights. May the best side win!"
In the next moment, a ghostly white figure appeared in front of the two lines. It was a replica of the man sitting on the throne, though transparent. The center section of the arena became an enormous chessboard pattern like what Rich had seen in the school auditorium.
The phantom set right away to assigning the pieces. He chose all of the pawns first, and none from Rich’s party were chosen. He then chose the stronger pieces such as knights, bishops, and rooks. Not surprisingly, Phillip ended up as one of the rooks.
The phantom then reached out and touched Rich on the shoulder. "You, I will make my king," he whispered.
Rich took his place on the board, hardly able to believe it. Why hadn’t Palad picked his father or any one of these other knights? They all looked older than him, and probably had much more experience. But he knew he couldn't argue even if he wanted to.
Rich felt a stab of dread at the thought of what might be going on over on the other side of the board. One glance over confirmed his worst fears. Nemes had made Mallory the black queen. He had made Jezreel a bishop, and all the rest of the dark knights looked like villains from a fantasy movie.
Both sides completed their lineup, and the Gray Knight spoke again in a booming voice. "Let the games commence!"
Rich heard a voice in his head. "You are my proxy king, and so you must agree with every move that I make," came the voice of Palad. "I say we start with this pawn."
A picture of the move appeared in Rich’s imagination, and he agreed without saying anything. As soon as he’d thought it, Palad made the move so.
The black king shouted something that sounded like Russian. He moved one of his black knights out. Rich stared at the dark-faced man and thought he saw something familiar. They exchanged several moves in rapid succession before the dark king attacked one of the white knights with one of his dark knights.
The crowd on both sides screamed and cheered, each one vying for their side. "Oh, our first blood," the Gray Knight cried. "Let's see what challenge this first match will bring. Let’s roll the die to see.” The image of an enormous die with many sides to it hovered in the battlefield in midair. It tumbled over and over as though it had been thrown and landed, displaying an image of a circle of flames. "Oh, the ring of fire! That's a good one to start with."
The chessboard split in half, taking half to one end of the coliseum and half to the other, though remaining perfectly flat so that all of the pieces remained on their squares. The two pieces scheduled to fight were flung into the center of the arena, and just as the die had determined, a ring of fire sprang up around them easily six or seven feet high. It closed in slowly so it would eventually consume them both.
Rich guessed the idea was to find a winner before then. As the ring grew ever smaller, it would make them even more desperate.
The two knights launched right into battle, matching every blow as the ring of fire shrank around them. The crowd grew wilder as the fire closed in, and the dark knight kicked his opponent into the flames. The chessboard snapped back in place and the white knight fell, still occupying a square, but facedown and still smoking. The dark knight basked in the audience’s applause, though the paladin side of the stadium booed him loudly.
Palad proved he’d chosen wisely with his pawns, however. For two bouts in a row, he attacked with his pawns and brought down stronger pieces. The first battle took place on ground like an ice skating rink’s surface, and the dark knight didn’t handle the ice well. The second battle had strong gusts of wind shooting through the arena, keeping both fighters constantly off balance.
A few more moves and Palad suggested a move with Aaron, pitting him against the dark knight from the first duel. Up to this point, Rich hadn’t hesitated to accept the commands, but this gave him pause. This nemesis was a hulk of a man with greenish-gray skin that made him look like something out of a Tolkien novel. He swung a sword that would have been two-handed for any regular knight and wore armor that looked half porcupine.
“Do you have reservations about the attack?” the voice of Palad asked.
Rich knew he would have to send all of them into battle eventually and there would be no pushover opponents. He needed to trust Aaron, even if the risk was high. “He’s my friend. It’s hard for me to send him up against that guy.”
“I understand,” Palad said, his voice actually sounding compassionate. “I have had to make many such decisions, and it is difficult every time. That is part of the responsibly of being a king.”
The crowd sounded restless, and Rich knew he didn’t have time to deliberate. Somehow, Palad’s words made him feel a bit better. “Go ahead.”
The die flew through the air and landed on the image of a mouse.
“Oh, now isn’t that interesting?” the Gray Knight boomed. “It’s not often we land on a miniature fight.”
At these words, Aaron and the dark knight shrank to the size of rodents—Aaron looking more like a mouse and the dark knight like a mangy rat. High above the battle, Rich saw a projected image of the fight below, enlarged for everyone to follow along.
The dark knight went berserk, covering the ground with deep gashes from his massive sword. Aaron darted around even more nimbly than usual, swinging on the long spikes on the knight’s armor. Each time he rounded the knight, he chipped away at the knight’s armor bit by bit with a little dagger, loosening it a bit a
t a time.
Soon, the dark knight abandoned his sword altogether and tried to grasp Aaron with his hands. Aaron’s opponent dove from him and missed, allowing Aaron to jump on his back and pry free a section of the armor he’d been weakening. Rich’s heart soared. This would be over soon, and Aaron had literally run circles around this guy.
Then the huge knight threw himself backward with incredible force, bringing himself up and then back down on his back, pinning Aaron under his spiked armor.
The battle looked so tiny from where Rich stood, barely more than a couple specks, but the enhanced image above showed everything in horrible detail. The dark knight stood slowly, picking up his sword and bellowing a victory cry.
Aaron and the knight returned to their normal sizes with Aaron lying motionless on his square.
“I’m sorry, Heinrich,” Palad whispered in his mind. “Your friend fought bravely. Though I regret that you must feel the sorrow of a king today, it lessens my own burden a bit to know that someone else understands what it feels like.”
Rich couldn’t bring himself to reply. He realized that the stakes might not be the same here as they had been back when he’d fought Mallory in the school gym. Would Aaron get back up at the end of this? Or had the dark knight killed him? If a bishop was able to heal fallen pieces, maybe he could call the other one to help him.
For the next few moves, Rich watched numbly as Palad positioned the pieces around the board. Then Mallory moved for the first time, clobbering one of his pawns, which barely lasted ten seconds against her ruthless attacks. He suddenly felt extremely tired. He hadn’t had good sleep, or good food, or peace of mind for a long time now, and something told him a duel with Mallory lay in his future. The idea filled him with dread. He’d rather have detention and a hundred-question test every day of high school than ever see Mallory again, much less fight her.
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