Chapter 30 -Catalyst

The match up was intended to be two versus two, and by all organizational accounts, it was. But the reality of it was far from how it had been organized.

The second I saw Mavsaum was to be my partner, I knew someone had a hand in skewing this confrontation.

We stood across from each other, one pair facing off against the other, and already I was searching for a way to leverage the situation. The crowds were respectfully quiet as the useless officiator stood between us. I found Hensler in the stands, but he was too far for me to make out the expression on his face. Perhaps he had no clue what was about to happen. My eyes continued to search the people surrounding us: I saw my brother and Zana holding their newborn son, I saw the queen and her sister, I saw Khatvari and Ramazi, I saw the old bookkeeper and one hundred more familiar faces, but I saw no way out of the clash I knew was about to erupt.

Across from me stood none other than Pirveli and Mavsaum’s brother Mamuka… and I knew this fight would be two versus one at best. Worst case scenario, it would be three versus one.

As though that would not be difficult enough; the rules of this tournament dictated that, I could not kill them.

Despite the cool autumn breeze I felt the heat of the seventeen fires of Akharis blazing around me, and yet my blood still froze in my veins. My tongue traveled over a ghostly ache, feeling the gap where the line of teeth was interrupted by smooth gums. I rarely thought of my missing tooth these days, but as I faced off against them, an eerie feeling of déjà vu crept up withing me.

Only, instead of a narrow alleyway in Orid-narr, I stood in the open stage of Belnar’s largest coliseum. And instead of inexperienced, angry young men, I was surrounded by experienced gladiators.

Even the foulest of curses would have been too light.

The stage was set, decorated as though the four of us were the final survivors after a battle. Fake bodies littered the floor, and next to them, their weapons. As of yet, our hands were empty, but my eyes had latched onto a nearby spear.

A sharp whistling split the air as the officiator signaled the start of the match. Without waiting a single heartbeat, I bolted away from the three and picked up the spear. The three of them leisurely walked around the ‘battlefield,’ making a show of leisurely picking and choosing their weapons.

My first instinct was to attack. To dash forwards and open their throats with the tip of my spear.

“fuck the rules…” I muttered under my breath. But still I stuck to them, unwilling to risk losing everything I had. If there was any justice, I would be allowed leeway to bend the rules when fighting three versus one.

I did not bother complaining to the officiator, the apathy that decorated his face told me everything I needed to know.

Surely there had to be someone out there who saw what was about to unfold.

And there was. My brother, my mentor, Hensler and one other watched with growing unease as my teammate walked away from me and did his own thing.

I felt the tip of my spear with my finger. Blunted. Good. That meant I did not have to restrain myself as much. An idea came to me then, and I scoured the ‘dead bodies’ around me, searching for more weapons I was familiar with. I saw one more spear and a sword. Hensler would likely chastise me for what I was about to do, but I was running out of time.

The three had picked up their weapons.

A longsword for Mamuka and Mavsaum. A noble’s rapier for Pirveli. You would think that the longswords would be more dangerous, but the brothers lacked Pirveli’s upbringing and his dedication. Do not misunderstand, the two were still ruthlessly capable -a byproduct of their aggression and the weight of the weapons. But it was Pirveli that was the true danger here. His reach was deceptively long despite the shorter weapon. I had caught glimpse of him training in the past months.

For all my hatred of the rotten fucker, it did not change his prowess with the weapon. His shoulder to the point of the blade was a snake ready to strike, and his legs were powerful enough to close the distance between himself and his foe in a fraction of a second. He worked harder than Mavsaum and Mamuka, and I loathed to see such dedication wasted on so terrible an individual. I wished every aspect of him to be malignant and repulsive. I wished him to be lazy and dirty. But reality has a way of disappointing people.

They began to advance towards me with relaxed strides, but their eyes were alert and focused. Pirveli had underestimated me once, and I had beat him with sheer force. Now I needed another tactic. And I had one up my sleeve. Only, I waited too long.

I backed away from them, cursing as they walked over the bodies that held the extra spear and sword. It looks like I wouldn’t be throwing my spear after all. Evelilas damn it all.

The rest of the crowd saw the three making their way towards me, but instead of crying in outrage, they cheered. No better than the rats of Chereba.

I stepped on a hand as I continued to retreat, trying to circle around to the extra weapons, and Pirveli called out, “Come on Little Mouse. I thought you were Khaisar, or are you not the one who doesn’t know defeat?”

“Are you not the Champion of Chereba?” he goaded, “I expected more of you!”

“You expected more of me? Is that why you need the two brutes on either side of you?” I retorted.

“Well, you see, a little bird came onto us and explained that you enjoy underhanded tricks, and always have. The three of us? Consider us Justice. Do not mistake this for a fight or a duel, this is what your sins have wrought. We are punishment from above.”

We continued to dance, moving in a circle with me edging away and them creeping closer, until they were within swinging range.

Pirveli kept to the back, leaving Mavsaum and Mamuka before him. With their heavy blades they strode forwards, but I was done running away. With spear in hand I darted forwards, passing into their cautious charge and scoring a cut along the side of Mavsaum’s torso. I planted one foot, halting my movement and redirecting my speed into a spin, whirling my spear as I turned and whacked Mamuka across the head. The wind whistled above me as I dropped under a wide swing from Mavsaum. The loose dirt shifted under my scrambling feet as I backed away from the weighty swings. Had I ducked a second later, my head would have been freed from my shoulders.

I erased the thought from my mind and lashed out once more before Mamuka could fully recover from the blow across his head. This time I kept my distance, poking and prodding. It never occurred to me that the spear tip I had tested to be blunt, left bright streaks of red as it darted to and fro. But all were superficial, and despite their brutish appearance, neither of the brothers were fools. They pressed forwards into a range where their longswords were more suitable than my spear. Like scything waves their swords rose and fell, battering down on me with the ferocity of an ocean storm, not offering me the smallest fraction of a second to think.

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The solid wood groaned in my hand as shaft of my spear began to weaken from the repeated blows. From my periphery I made out a third shape. Pirveli. He ghosted just out of sight and vanished into my blind spot. I strained to see him without turning away from the unrelenting blows raining down on me. But all I knew for certain was that he was behind me. Unsure of his exact movements and actions, and unable to look away from my front, I let out a roar. Dashing forwards, I dove between the brothers and sprinted away, finally establishing some distance and earning a second to breathe.

But it was only a second, and the three of them swooped after me. The veins on their necks stood out and their faces were contorted into dark scowls. Evidently, they had expected me to lose to them quickly. Now, they were out for blood.

Shall we give it to them?

I planted my feet in the ground, facing the three. I took in a deep breathe from my nose to calm my racing heart, and I heard the citizens of Katentin shouting in the background.

Pirveli saw me and slowed his charge, calling out to the two in front of him, but the brothers barreled forwards like enraged bears. I crouched down and shifted my weight towards the balls of my feet. It was only then that they heeded Pirveli’s call and stopped sprinting forwards, but it was too late.

I leapt towards them, a cat pouncing on unsuspecting mice, and my spear closer the distance in a fraction of a heartbeat. Lunge, extend, stab, retract, twirl, smack. I pressed the both of them with a flurry of blows that rained down faster and faster. The growl in my chest slowly grew until I was screaming like a daemon, the dark wood of the spear blurring about my form. Dozens of cuts and bruises decorated each of the two, and still I pressed them backwards, even as the redness in their face changed to a pale white.

A sharp pain erupted from my back. I whirled around and my spear whistled through the air, catching Pirveli’s arm with a resounding crack. But in the moment before the shaft of my spear broke his arm, I saw confusion splayed out across his face. Then wood connected to flesh and bone. I did not stop, spinning my spear and hitting him across the head.

Two shadows loomed over me and the last thing I remember was cursing as Mavsaum and Mamuka swung their heavy blades down unto my shoulders.

-

I woke up in bed with a figure looming over me.

“Terlan?” I whispered.

But the blurry shape did not reply and I fell into fitful dreams.

I awoke some time later to find my brother asleep in a chair beside me. A dull pounding resounded within the confines of my skull. But apart from that, the only strangeness that I felt was a sore bump on my spine, just under back of my neck. I grimaced and lifted myself until I sat upright against the wall behind me. Reaching up with hesitant fingers, I searched my nape and found what I was looking for. The bump was not imagined, but it was not as large as it felt while laying down. Nor did it feel foreign. It was like any ridge of the spine, but marginally larger. I could not see it, but it reminded me of the bare-chested beggars in Chereba, where skin hugs so tightly to bone it shows true proportions not hidden my muscle or fat.

When I was young, I used to feel the bony ridge stand out, and see it on Garent, but we grew up and our muscles had filled out since then. Perhaps it was only bruised.

I looked around the elongated, room and saw twelve beds laid out. Six stood against either wall, and a shelf was built into the far end opposite the door. Above the shelf rested a large, arched window reflecting the lantern-lit contents of the room. In the middle of the longer walls there were fireplaces facing each other. Redundant but beautiful in its symmetry. The floor was spotless and the ceiling taller than I could reach even if I jumped as high as I could. Each bed was entirely white with a single pillow. Next to the beds was a chair and an end table with a glass and a candle. I turned to mine and found that it was full of water.

No one else was in the room but my brother, and he was fast asleep, still wearing his day clothes. I drank the water, and as I drank I found I was thirsty. The one cup was not enough.

Overcome by an insatiable thirst, I threw off my covers and walked over to the shelf at the end of the room where I had seen a pitcher of water. I returned to my bed and finished the entire thing. It was only six cups, and although I was still thirsty, I could now wait. And wait I did. Forty minutes I sat in that bed trying to piece together the events of my fight, but they eluded me. Like grasping at smoke the memories escaped the confines of my mind and understanding was beyond me, much to my chagrin.

As I recollected bits and pieces of my battle, I found things that did not match up. For one, I had tested the bluntness of the spearhead against myself and confirmed that it could not cut. So why had I been able to write in red on the two brothers? It could have been that the specific place I tested on the spear was unable to cut, or that I did not test it properly.

Then there was the matter of my current health. I examined my body as I sat in the bed, and found not so much as a bruise on my body when there should have been many. Truly it was a day for thanks.

O Evelilas kind and fair

I thank you for all you have offered

For you protection from man,

beast and burden,

the evil of lust and the love of life

O Evelilas terrible and mighty

Make me undeserving of your wrath

And shower me in your generosity

Grant me access to your gardens

Never keep from me your forgiveness

O Evelilas queen of gods

You are the highest ruler

none can match your magnificence

unto you I have only gratitude

I thank you and I beg

more from you than I do of any

The sun began to rise through the window and with it, so did Garent. I heard his clothes rustling and I opened my eyes, watching him slowly open his.

“Good morning.” I greeted him.

“Brother! You are well!” He cried out in delight.

I nodded, yet inside I still had reservations. “What happened to me?” I asked.

“Do you not remember? Those three thugs ganged up on you, and you held them back. Nay, you were almost winning! If not for the third snake of a man that slithered up behind you, or had the two brutes not been so big, I daresay you would have. You were pressing them back with such ferocity and skill. I have seen terrible thunder storms that inspired less fear. But alas, when you turned to deal with the one that stabbed you from behind, the brothers swung down in unison. One blade for either side of your neck, and you dropped. They continued to hack away at your back until they were tackled off the field. You should have seen the crowds. Never have I seen the people of Katentin so ready to riot. They were going to execute the three of them on the spot, but lo and behold, you were alive. Not only alive, but seemingly less injured than them. For your skin did not break, and not a drop of your blood was spilled, but your heart beat deathly slow and you appeared to be in a deep slumber. So we let you sleep, and prayed that you would wake up. Now look! Evelilas be praised, you are alive!”

Tears welled up behind his eyes and he pulled me into a cautiously tight hug. We stayed arm in arm for a few moments before he pulled back. His cheeks were wet, and he wiped his face. He looked at me, speechless for a time as if disbelieving I was awake, then he asked, “How about some water?”

“I would love some, but I’m afraid I have finished all the water in this room.”

“So you have!” He exclaimed, seeing the empty cup and pitcher. “No matter, wait right there!”

He hurried to the door and called out, “Bring cool water! And some breakfast!”

My stomach grumbled and once again I marveled at my brother’s sheer competence. No, that was not the right word. He was more than competent. He was blessed with keen foresight when it came to people, and a decisiveness in action to boot. No wonder he had been favored among the people of Orid-narr, and had made such an impression on Zana.

While he walked back to me, I asked him, “How long was I asleep for?”

“Three days. Three long days.”

My eyes drooped as did my shoulders. Garent looked at me quizzically. “The physician said you were lucky to have lived, and others say you are favored by God. Three days is not too long a time.”

“But it is. I would have liked to compete in the rest of the tournament.”

He let out a soft chuckle at that.

“Of course you would.”

The conversation lapsed into silence as the two of us waited. Then I heard him whisper, “their blades were not dull…”

“By all accounts, their blades should have hewn your head from your shoulders. But you hardly have so much as a bruise. Like striking armor, the thugs had said. The people do not yet know, they assume that the blades had no edge. However, the gladiators know. And with hushed voices they state you have a sliver of the spirit of Akharis within you.”

I stared at him, and would not have believed a word had it not been Garent. Not only my brother, but a man known for his honesty. I sat, struggling to comprehend how or why, and what the implications were.

As I pondered this, footsteps came stampeding down the hall.