It was Halm’s turn to scowl.
“Still happy you’re here?” Pig Knot asked.
“Shut up.” Halm climbed to his feet.
Feeling somewhat vindicated, Pig Knot got up as well, with Muluk scurrying off to some shade. The Sunjan walked towards the waiting bulk of Koba, who motioned for him to move into the open part of the sands, where Halm had been for most of the afternoon. Deep scuffs and gouges marred the white surface, evidence of the violent dance Halm and Koba had performed earlier.
“You going to crack me with that stick as well?” Pig Knot grumped.
The trainer stared at him for a moment before pulling on his helm. “No. Once I’m ready, you come at me. Try and hit me.”
“Not worried that I will?”
Koba paused. “No.”
“No,” Pig Knot agreed with a weary huff. “I wouldn’t be either. Not this late in the day anyway.”
Across from him, Koba adjusted his helm and scratched at the hauberk under an arm. He then gathered up his shields and clumsily fitted them onto his arms. Once ready, he stood back from the gladiator and waved him on.
“I’m ready,” Koba informed him.
I’m not, Pig Knot wanted to say but held it in.
“Everything you have left, now. Try and take my head off.”
“What’re you going to do?” Pig Knot asked.
“I’ll stop you. Tell you what you’re doing wrong.”
“Bit dangerous for you, isn’t it?”
“I survived your friend there,” Koba said grimly. “I think I’ll survive you.”
Pig Knot shrugged and charged. He took two quick steps and delivered a slash ripping upwards from the earth like a striking snake. Koba deflected it and stepped to his right. Pig Knot matched him, going into the one-two stroke he’d learned that morning and wishing he had real steel. Koba deflected with both shields, one after the other, and the solid sounds of each block rang out. The Sunjan dug down deep and threw himself at the trainer, baring teeth and swinging for a head, an arm, and finally a leg before feinting and slashing for a leg again.
Koba ducked, dodged, and smashed the final cut away.
“Don’t feint,” Koba said.
Pig Knot didn’t hear him.
For the next few moments, he drew on reserves of energy he did not know he possessed. He whirled his club at the trainer, attacking the man as if he embodied all that was wrong with his life, and each time Koba stopped him, his frustration deepened.
“I’m spent,” Pig Knot panted after one last flurry and dropped to the sand. “Seddon above… I’m… I’m done.”
Koba loomed overhead.
“You could’ve… could’ve struck back,” Pig Knot said.
“I could’ve.”
“Why didn’t you?”
The trainer didn’t answer as something caught his attention enough for Pig Knot to follow his gaze. There, in the dying shine of the evening and walking around the far edge of the sands, was a servant dressed in light robes. Blond hair, a heart-shaped face, and skin browned just enough by the sun, she headed towards the main house.
“Seddon above.” Pig Knot smiled. “That one’s enough to make a man pause and think right thoughts.”
Koba’s face, hidden by an iron visor, turned back to the gladiator.
“Right tender, too, from what I can see,” Pig Knot said in a greedy tone. “Wearing too damn much though.”
Only then did he see the narrowing of Koba’s eyes and the stiffening of his posture. An angry heat, which made the sun feel like ice, emanated from the man.
“Get to your feet,” the trainer ordered in a controlled voice. Pig Knot didn’t like the sound of it or the fury barely contained.
“No harm meant,” Pig Knot said. “Only appreciating the—”
For the first time that day, Koba attacked in anger, slinging the edge of a shield towards Pig Knot’s head. The Sunjan got out of the way, but the other shield magically took him upside his face, hard enough to make his teeth rattle, and twirled him about like a broken top. He landed facedown in the sand and took a long moment to flex his jaw.
“Get up,” Koba told him.
Pig Knot considered the trainer for a moment. His words came out as whimper. “I didn’t mean anything.”
“Get up,” the trainer repeated, the edge still in his voice.
Suddenly fearful, Pig Knot hauled himself to his feet.
35
When the sun finally fell from the sky and the trainers released them from their drills, both Halm and Pig Knot collapsed, their limbs wailing. Both men groaned and wished for death, feeling as though they had been dragged behind a koch a considerable distance. Muluk attempted to rouse them from where they lay, but they waved him off.
“Up and for the baths, you sacks of shite,” Machlann roared, pointing. “Seddon’s rosy ass, you’ve stained and stunk up my sands enough for one day. Up! Up, or by Seddon I’ll stab your eyes out with my prick! Eeee.”
That got them moving.
They staggered to their feet and stumbled towards a door held open by a manservant. Steam clung to them and filled their senses upon entering the chamber, a wide area with flagstones set into the ground. Ahead, just barely seen through the oppressive clouds, lay a wide bath ringed with round beach rocks fitted closely together. The entire area lay before them, fashioned after the famous bathhouses of Sunja, and its waters appeared calm and shimmered in ghostly lamp light.
“This is for us?” Halm rasped.
“It is.” The servant gestured with an arm.
Slowly, disbelieving, they dusted off their feet and bodies, painfully aware of how filthy they’d become, and stripped off their loincloths. The walls were made of black wood with long benches wide enough to lie upon. Low tables stretched out before the bath waters, set in a depression marked with iron drains and placed before the low wall holding back the waters.
“Lie on the tables,” the servant instructed, “or sit.”
Neither Halm, Pig Knot, nor Muluk spoke. Naked, they splayed out while more men entered the room carrying buckets of warm water. Soon, the three were set upon and scrubbed down with coarse cloths and soap. Sore, knotted muscles were massaged.
“Dying Seddon!” Muluk exclaimed into the crook of his arm as he lay on his back. “This is wonderful.”
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Pig Knot asked nearby.
“Don’t say anything, else that hellion Machlann might hear you,” Muluk shot back, genuine concern in his voice.
At the end, the servants emptied the buckets over the men’s heads with a splash.
“You may relax here for a while,” one servant informed them. “Just know that supper will be waiting for you. The longer you linger here, the colder it will become.”
With that, the three servants retreated outside, closing the door behind them.
“Not as nice as the baths in Sunja.” Halm sized the place up as the pooled water at his feet leaked away into drains. “But after this day…”
“Don’t complain,” Muluk warned a second time. “These walls might have ears.”
The three of them hobbled to the clear waters and sank into the depths up to their chins. Groans of relief cut the smoky air as they settled in.
“Dog balls, this is better than rutting,” Halm hissed, water lapping at his chin.
“Fool,” Pig Knot said.
“I’d almost consider coming back tomorrow if this is what’s at the end of the day,” Muluk said.
“After what Machlann said?” Pig Knot asked.
“Hmm. Well, perhaps not then.”
“You’re still sore?” Halm asked of Pig Knot.
“Aye that. That one named Koba nearly took my head off. All because of…”
“Of what?” Muluk asked.
“Aye, of what?” Halm added.
Pig Knot’s brow scrunched in confusion. “There was a serving wench crossing over to the house there.”
“The little berry with the bl
ond hair?” Halm asked.
“Aye that. That’s the biscuit.”
“She is,” Muluk agreed.
“Well, I was eyeing her. Might have said something as well—I can’t remember. Next I knew, the brute was pounding me with a shield. And doing the work too. I think I lost two teeth at one point.”
“She must be something to him,” Halm said.
“I know that now,” Pig Knot reflected. “Just didn’t know it then. That bastard damn near killed me. If it was a real fight and I was rested…” He trailed off with vengeful eyes.
Muluk tsked. “First Machlann and then Koba. You aren’t that good at making friends.”
“That Koba knows what he’s about,” Halm stated quietly. “Both of them.”
Muluk glanced over his shoulder to check if they were indeed alone. “Why does he make that sound? That eeeee sound, it’s strange.”
“Perhaps you’ll make that sound when you get his age,” an amused Halm said.
“I don’t expect to live that long.”
“I don’t expect to live that long,” Pig Knot grated. “I’m getting the feeling they’re not wanting me around here.”
The men became quiet for a moment, and then Halm said, “We’re on the cusp of something here. If you think they’re working you hard now, just wait until later. I think they do this to weed out the lesser souls.”
“You think I’m a lesser soul?”
“I think if you truly want to stay here, you’ll have to do much more.” Halm stared him in the eye. “And I think it’ll be worth it.”
Pig Knot mulled. “I don’t know…”
“What else do you have to do? Or be?” Muluk asked.
“Nothing and nowhere,” Pig Knot admitted, “but there’ll come a time when that argument won’t work anymore. And it’s coming soon, I figure.”
They finished their bath, dressed in clean loincloths the servants had left for them, and ate their meal of porridge and dried meat while half-asleep. Goll was nowhere to be seen, nor were any of the trainers or the taskmaster. Once they were done eating, a manservant directed them to their small rooms, which were really nothing more than deep alcoves. Heavy curtains hung over each entrance for privacy, while inside were a bedpan, a cot, and little else. The men sank into their beds exhausted and left the evening behind.
They had little doubt the next day would be just as difficult.
When the following day began, Pig Knot was all for doing what he could with it, though embers of loathing for the trainers burned in his head and chest. The three men ate in relative silence, feeling as though another day’s sleep was needed. Their muscles and joints ached in ways never before realized, and Muluk wondered loudly if the baths were open. The servants feeding them informed him they were not but would be in the evening. That brightened the Kree’s spirits.
When they finished eating, they filed out onto the sands and stood abreast of each other. Waiting for them were Goll, the two trainers, and Clavellus.
“Feeling stiff this morning?” Machlann roared, breaking the morning stillness and causing a flock of black birds to take flight.
None of the men dared reply.
“No matter, Master Clavellus.” Machlann stepped to one side. The taskmaster stood with his silver mug in hand and studied the three of them.
“You, Halm of Zhiberia, will be with Machlann this morning. He wishes to speak with you before you leave this morning.”
Halm blanched at the words.
“To the arena,” Clavellus explained with a smile. “Easy, lad. We aren’t kicking you out yet. But you do have some work ahead of you tomorrow, in the form of the House of Curge. Listen well to what Machlann has to say, and then rest up. You’ll be taking up steel tomorrow.”
The taskmaster singled out Muluk. “I’m told you’re to be the new armourer.”
“I am, Master Clavellus.”
“Then you see that smithy?”
“Aye that.”
“That’s yours to work if you lot become an actual house.”
Muluk blinked and took in the smithy, his eyes suddenly attentive. It was perhaps the first time someone had offered him anything substantial in a long time.
“But your fighting days are finished,” Clavellus told him.
Muluk didn’t say anything upon hearing the news, and the taskmaster went on to the next man.
“Pig Knot?”
“Aye, Master Clavellus?”
“You’re to stay here with us while the others head into the city.” The taskmaster shook his head. “You have a hard day ahead of you. A hard day indeed. And I for one look forward to seeing what you’re capable of.”
“Oh.” Pig Knot became downcast. He wasn’t looking forward to a day where he was the centre of attention with both trainers. Goll regarded him with a stoic air, and that didn’t surprise him in the least. He vowed to make it through. Before him, the gazes of the two trainers stayed rock steady, but Pig Knot thought there was a flick of eagerness there.
“It’s going to be a long, hot day, lads,” Clavellus declared, and Pig Knot knew he was right.
“Best of luck,” Halm said before leaving his side.
“As you,” Pig Knot muttered back, inwardly steeling himself for the trials he’d have to endure alone. A part of him became venomous. Why did he have to prove himself to these men? He didn’t really want to be here anyway. But he was here, and so were they, trying to break him so they might toss him out. Break him. That thought almost made him smirk. Being part of a house was something he still wasn’t sure of, but he’d show them this day that he was worthy regardless. He would not allow them to choose.
He would be the one doing the choosing if he stayed or left.
Koba stepped away from the gathered men and motioned to Pig Knot that he should follow.
Setting his jaw, Pig Knot started after him.
As the pair of men walked off to the open sands, Clavellus motioned Halm and Muluk over to where he, Goll, and Machlann stood waiting. Machlann pinched one end of his huge moustache while Goll appeared pensive. Halm wasn’t certain of what to expect.
“You’re heading into Sunja this day,” Machlann stated. “One can’t teach everything in a day and expect a man to remember it all. Not possible. Not with this trade. So do what you have to do for victory. Finish the fight as you would if you weren’t fighting for the sake of a house. But fight intelligently, remember the few little things you learned here, and perhaps we’ll see you here again in two days.”
Halm nodded and waited for more, but none came.
“That’s all?” Halm asked, appearing surprised.
“That’s all.”
“Have a safe journey,” Clavellus said to them both. “Borchus will ride with you into the city.”
“My thanks,” Halm said to Machlann, but the old trainer swished his hand and considered him with hard, piercing eyes.
“I haven’t done anything. Not yet.”
“You’re coming as well, Muluk,” Goll said, visibly surprising him with the decision.
With that, Goll swung about on his crutches and led them to the waiting wagon. Borchus was up front with the driver and barely noticed them get aboard. Moments later, they were all rattling out the front gate of the villa and headed towards the city of Sunja.
Clavellus stood with Machlann and watched the wagon roll away, until the gates closed.
36
They reached Sunja at mid-afternoon, when the sun was at its strongest, passing through the outer gates and inspection points without incident. The three men had dozed off during much of the trip but woke upon reaching the final road up towards the south gate. They heard Borchus answer questions being asked of him, and then the wagon moved again. The journey had been a weary one, and arriving in the city roused them much. Outside, Borchus directed the driver to bring the wagon to a livery stable, where it and the horses would remain until it was time to leave.
“We’re back,” Halm said pleasantly when the transport fi
nally came to a halt.
A moment later, Borchus pulled back the sheet of canvas covering the rear.
“All out,” he announced in a tired voice. “The wagon’ll stay here until it’s time to leave. As well as Bagrun.”
“Bag who?” Halm asked.
“The driver.”
“Ah.”
The three climbed down as Goll patted Muluk on the shoulder. “Grab that as well.” He indicated a sack on the wagon floor.
Muluk pulled it up and made a face as he slung it over a shoulder. “Heavy.”
“But you’re so strong,” Halm said soberly before breaking into a grin.
“You’re better off placing that in a bank.” Borchus’s grey eyes conveyed a deep weariness.
“No, it stays with us,” Goll said. “Easier to place wagers rather than making trips to a banker all the time.”
“It’s your coin,” Borchus said indifferently. “Where will you be staying?”
Goll gave the agent directions to the alehouse they usually frequented and asked where he would be sleeping that night.
“Sleep?” Borchus asked. “I’ll decide on that later. I’ve work to do before the night is done. Some of it best finished when ale and beer and firewater have been drunk in very large quantities.”
“How will we find you?” Goll wanted to know.
“I’ll find you if it’s necessary. Win or lose tomorrow, I’ll be at the Pit.” The short man looked at Halm then. “Don’t disappoint me, fat man.”
“I won’t.” Halm frowned good-naturedly. “Dwarf.”
“Dwarf?” Borchus scoffed. “Best you can do, Zhiberian? I’m truly disappointed now.”
With that, the short, blocky agent turned and left the livery yard. The men followed him out, allowing Bagrun to work.
Back into the crowded streets of Sunja they walked, periodically eyeing the wooden shop fronts, merchants’ stalls, and houses built side by side. They didn’t talk as they moved through the throngs of people although Halm and Muluk paused at times to allow Goll to catch up when he fell behind. The sun was just falling from the sky when the alehouse tavern came into view, and a small crew of lamplighters moved down the street, fueling the hanging baubles and illuminating the road with their torches as they passed.
131 Days [Book 1] Page 45