He stood at the back of a crowd, hands in the pockets of his coat. His mountains loomed in the distance. He thought about going around the mass of humanity. Blocking the road was not a reason to start a fight.

“Who else will challenge the strongest man in the world?,” shouted some shill on the other side of the wall of people. “We love to take your money!”

He decided to start working his way around the crowd. There was bound to be some bad blood developing. He didn't want to get involved.

Settling things had been his job for a long time. He had been able to almost retire from that after a raft of years. Now he dealt with things when one of his former comrades involved him with some problem, or something got in his way.

Someone claiming to be the world's strongest man didn't bother him. Stopping him from finishing his journey did. And he knew that someone would try to feed him to the fighter since he was a new face, and no one knew him.

And he knew who the world's strongest man was. And he wasn't matching himself against some yokels in the middle of nowhere.

He pulled out fixings for a cigarette and tried to roll one up as he moved around the mob. He grimaced at the thing when he was finished. He needed more grace in his hands since his cigarette didn't come together in a neat roll up.

He wondered what he was doing wrong. He needed someone to show him how to do the things right.

He stuck the collection of paper and tobacco in his mouth. He cupped his hands over the end and snapped his fingers. A spark struck and he puffed it into life. He tried to enjoy the smoke instead of getting irritated at the people standing in his way.

“Hey, you!,” shouted the shill. “You with the cigarette! You want to try your luck?”

He indicated himself with a thumb.

“Yes, you!,” shouted the shill. “Do you think you can stay for three minutes with Jumbo?”

The crowd split and reformed to block his path out of town, and leaving a path to a roped area for fighting. A sign said Fight the World Strongest Man for Money in a shaky hand.

He didn't mention the missing possessive as he puffed on his smoke.

“All you have to do is stay in the circle for three minutes,” said the shill. He waved a hand at an hourglass on a small table beside the roped area.

“Are you sure you want this?,” he asked. He finished his cigarette and shredded the remains.

“If you think you can stand against Jumbo, you should see if you can,” said the shill.

He looked at the crowd. They had taken losses. He could see that in the way they seemed ready to rush the fighting area. Should he get involved in this? He finally walked toward the ring. He might as well get this over with so the town wouldn't give him trouble and caused him to retaliate.

It wasn't his job to put down everyone that made him angry. His temper would lead him to clear whole towns of their populations just for talking to him the wrong way.

He pulled off his coat before he stepped through the ropes. He hung it on a post. It wasn't the best coat, but he had to make due until he reached home.

He had lost his original coat during a fight at the starting point of his long walk. That one had come from a lost and found before he had left the city.

It had served him well during the intervening miles. If he lost it, he would have to take a coat from someone else. It would be easy, but a pain at the same time.

Jumbo loomed over the challenger and his promoter. His hands were like small calfs, arms like full grown cow heads. He wore a gold belt around his waist. Moving scenes decorated the metal as he flexed his wide upper body. His face didn't seem capable of growing a beard, and his hair had receded from his face.

“So all I have to do is stay in the roped area for three minutes?,” asked the challenger.

“And not get knocked out by Jumbo,” said the shill.

“But Jumbo will knock you out,” said the giant. “Jumbo stronger than you.”

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“I have two more questions before this starts,” said the challenger.

“What is it?,” asked the shill.

“Have you two hurt anybody badly with this scam?,” asked the challenger. He glared at the promoter. His brown eyes were flat stones in his face. “And do you really want to do this?”

“Jumbo only break bones,” said the giant. He banged one fist against his chest. “They know the rules when they fight Jumbo.”

“So you didn't kill anyone?,” said the challenger. He turned his gaze. “What about you, little man?”

“Are we fighting, or just standing here?,” said the shill. The man looked at the crowd. “We're fighting here, right?”

“If you want,” said the challenger. “Let's get this over with. I want to get to the next town before nightfall.”

“Get ready,” said the shill. He walked to the hourglass. He picked it up. “Go!”

He slammed the empty hourglass cell down on the table. He grinned as the sand started falling. He stepped out of the roped areas before one of the fighters knocked him out by accident.

Jumbo charged forward, swinging his fist as fast as a small deer. He had taken down every fighter in front of him with one punch. This man would be no exception.

He missed his intended target. His opponent grabbed his arm. Then the world vanished into a blur of motion. Then he flew away from the roped area. He couldn't stop the scream escaping his mouth as he sailed over the nearby houses.

The challenger went to his coat and put another cigarette together. He puffed on it as he watched the hourglass wind down. The promoter couldn't keep his mouth from hanging open.

“Three minutes is what you said,” the challenger said. He pulled on his coat. “A word of advice. The next time you give an idiot a belt of strength to promote him as the world's strongest man and cheat people out of their coins, make sure the real world's strongest man doesn't show up to show you how things are done.”

When the last grain of sand fell, he picked the hourglass up and crushed it with his bare hand.

“If I were you, I would find a better use of what you got, and try that,” said the challenger. He stepped between the ropes and headed for the town. He had wanted to get food before moving on. Once he had filled his stomach, he was back on the road.

Jumbo charged from around one of the buildings. He growled at the other man.

“Fight's over,” said the traveler. “Go home.”

“Jumbo is strongest,” said Jumbo. “Jumbo say when fight is over.”

“Are you sure about this?,” said the traveler. “I have to get to the Highlands. If you want a rematch, you can find me up there.”

“Fight now!,” exclaimed Jumbo. He swung a giant fist at the smaller man.

The stranger caught the fist with his open hand. He barely shifted from the weight behind the blow.

Jumbo swung with his other hand, trying to free his fist from the grip it was in. His opponent caught that fist too. They stood there, arms braced against each other.

“I think you should get out of the fighting business,” said the traveler. He spoke as if he wasn't exerting himself at all. “You're not really that good.”

“This is impossible,” said Jumbo. His voice trembled with effort. “Jumbo is world's strongest man.”

“You're not,” said the traveler. “I am. I think you should calm down before I show you what that means.”

“Show Jumbo!,” said the giant. “Show now!”

“All right,” said the other man. “Remember, you asked for this.”

The man knocked Jumbo's hands out of the way and then stepped in and punched. Hideous pressure preceded the punch, pushing the air away from the fist as if it was annihilating the gas as it moved. The giant tried to raise his hands, but his effort was much too slow because he could feel the force of the strike even if he couldn't see the hand itself any more.

The shockwave exploded against the human obstruction. There was a moment when he stood there in the flow as it drowned everything out with the sound of a giant whistle in his ears. He flew like a leaf in a hurricane before he landed in a house next to the street yards away from his starting point.

“Jumbo!,” screamed the promoter. He ran toward the partially destroyed house. The crowd of onlookers fell silent at the monster in their midst. Who would he destroy next?

The traveler walked toward the wreck. He shook his head. He couldn't expect to get a meal now.

“Show-off,” he chastised himself in a low voice. “You know better than this.”

The shill worked to pull wood off his battered fighter. The giant had pulled things down on top of him when he blasted through the wall. He moaned in pain.

“Is there a healer around?,” the traveler asked the closest villager. “I think you should go get him.”

“What?,” said the man. He seemed stunned.

“Get a cleric, or I'm going to do the same thing to you,” said the man with a bit of edge in his voice. “Run.”

The villager took off.

The traveler walked up to where the partner was trying to wake up his giant fighter. Tears ran down his face.

“You killed him,” the man said.

“No,” said the traveler. “I think that you two should stop doing these fights and pick up a trade.”

“We were making money,” said the shill. “Jumbo is great as a fighter.”

“Eventually someone would realize you're cheating with the belt of strength he's wearing, then it would be over for you both,” said the traveler. “No matter how strong it makes him, arrows and spears would still go through him. And Avri Noll's clerics would cut him to pieces before he could swing a hand.”

He knelt down and pressed against the giant's chest. The man took a long breath of air. He stood.

“If he wants another try, tell him William Pitt has gone to the Highlands,” said the traveler. “He can find me there.”

The traveler walked away, trying to roll a cigarette as he went.