Beam POV: Day 87

  Current Wealth: 224 gold 18 silver 2 copper

  Solitaire’s fight was over quickly, and nastily. I won’t describe it, because I can’t. Not without feeling a bit queasy, even after all these years. To give the broad strokes; his enemy had been paid to hurt him so he’d have a harder time fighting through the rest of the tourney. Solitaire noticed, and was stronger than them.

  It took three men to carry the poor sod out of the arena. He wasn’t that heavy, it’s just that after he regained consciousness, he kept flinching and clawing at any hands that came near him, screaming so loud nobody even understood what he was saying. Solitaire’s mood seemed improved as he returned to the box.

  Slightly.

  “Got it all out of your system?” I asked, throat tight as I awaited his answer. It was good that I was here, instead of Shango. However awful it had been seeing Phelia break down at what had happened with Helena, my brother’s need to head back to the mansion and comfort her meant he hadn’t watched what I had. My guts still squirmed at the very memory.

  “To some extent.” Solitaire shrugged. “You know how it is, eh?”

  I didn’t, and I didn’t want to, but I also didn’t want to make any further mention of the fact. The day had been long enough already. “When’s the last match?”

  “Soon. Possibly right now.”

  That perked me up a bit, I glanced at Solitaire, whose eyes were affixed almost unblinkingly on the arena.

  “We’re already pretty far back in the alphabet, and things are moving along faster as they progress. I don’t think we have much of a wait before round one is over.”

  As usual, Solitaire was right. The two of us were seated there for much of the day, watching fights, betting, winning. Time dragged on around us and eventually we came to the crescendo of it all. Dozens of bouts fought and won, with only a single one remaining. Solitaire was leaning forwards in his seat as it got called.

  “Do you know who they always send out first for these?” He asked. I glanced his way.

  “Who?”

  “Anyone but the King of Blades. He comes last, every time. He’s the climax.”

  Before I could even answer that, Shango’s voice made me jump from the side.

  “What have I missed?” He asked, barging into the room. He looked about as good as I felt, which was a grim thing to witness. My confusion was quick in bubbling up after the observation.

  “What are you doing here?” I frowned.

  “Solitaire.” Shango shrugged. “Sent word to me about twenty minutes ago, apparently the King of Blades is fighting?”

  It really was annoying, the way he just made things correspond to his timing, but it was a lot more useful. Solitaire grinned, clearly aware of both facts.

  Shango took his seat, twitching, shifting. I thought for a moment he was eager, then I saw the curled fists at his sides. Idiot. He was still worried about Helena, still dealing with Phelia. None of us had expected his wife to take things as hard as she had, and it was only more salt on the wound of what had happened.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  I turned to the arena, silently urging the King of Blades to hurry up. We could all use something new to look at.

  Fortunately, we weren’t kept waiting for long. The crowd probably saw to that, their impatience growing at an exponential climb as the seconds sluggishly trickled by.

  The King of Blades was not the first to emerge; that honour belonged to one Xerght, a man with no last name and a height which rearranged Argar’s position on our hierarchy of stature. He was big. So big, really, that to even frame him in relevance to other humans was redundant. It was like looking at a great marble statue come to life and striding around, so toweringly huge that he barely even fit in through the mouth of the arena’s entrance.

  Next to him, the King of Blades looked absolutely diminutive. Which was not to say the near-seven-foot giant entering second and covered from head to toe in golden plate armour wasn’t an impressive figure in and of themselves.

  “What are their stats?” I asked Shango, who looked suddenly rather disturbed.

  “I…Don’t know.” He breathed. “I mean, I can see Xerght’s, but the King of Blades…Nothing. It’s like I don’t have the ability at all.”

  “The armour?” Solitaire asked, sounding more concerned, even, than Shango. “Might be enchanted, if it resists magic then it’d probably resist your Appraisal, right? We do, fundamentally, use magic abilities here.”

  “Right.” Shango nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. Fuck, so we’re going in blind.”

  “Not blind.” He assured him. “Xerght’s stats, what are they?”

  “Uh, Strength seventeen, Toughness eighteen, Speed ten, Alertness six.”

  Not a bad set, I had to admit. Could I beat him? I watched as the giant moved forwards, crossing as much distance in one step as a short man would have in two. He had to be nine feet, or even more.

  No, maybe I couldn’t. Scary.

  “So we can learn about the King by looking at his performance here.” Solitaire finished. “Just keep your eyes peeled, we’ll be gleaning information from this, as long as we focus. There’s always information to be gleaned.”

  For once, his rampant intellectualisation was actually reassuring. At the very least it gave us all something to do, and my expertise was rather uniquely suited to this task. I kept my damned eyes peeled.

  The match began quickly, and it began with Xerght stepping forwards and swinging. He wielded an axe, a giant, heavy thing which looked like it’d been made to hack boulders rather than wood. It came down like a battering ram, and I waited for the King to sidestep.

  He didn’t, simply raising his sword one-handed and catching the axehead against its blade. The sound was so loud, I actually heard it over the crowds, and the King’s armoured body slid back a good few inches along the stone. His opponent was reeling, unbalanced by the shock of his swing being stopped, fighting to right himself.

  I never saw the King’s move, it was just too fast. All I knew about it was more deductive than perceived.

  His sword stopped a few feet beside the giant, and the blood came out after. Xerght shuddered, took one stunned step backwards, then toppled over and fell. Like watching a house fall down. I almost expected the ground to shake as he hit it.

  The crowd was silent for a long moment, then the cheers came. By then the King had already turned and started back for the entrance, making his way out without so much as glancing at the roaring audience, as if he’d been alone with his enemy. It was so cool, I actually felt a little bit angry just watching it.

  “So…Uh, we probably shouldn’t try to fight him.” I noted.

  Solitaire and Shango did not bother responding, they both just sort of went quiet. I couldn’t blame them. Hell of a thing to see, what we’d just watched. Hell of a thing, to find out in one moment that our chances of actually winning the tournament were literally zero.

  We watched as the tournament’s announcers strolled out, pretty women dressed nicely to catch the eyes of the audience and quieten everyone down while the information was conveyed.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, you have just witnessed the first round of Elswick’s Tourney of Wolves. We’ve had quite an exciting show of it so far already, with a potent turnout if I’ve ever seen one, but believe me things will only get better and more hotblooded from here! Please give a hand to this year’s first-round victors…”

  Names started being rattled out, ours, thankfully, among them. I started to zone out after that. It was Shango who snapped me back to focus, and he did it with an excited gasp. I turned to him, eyes wide, half expecting some disaster to be awaiting me. Instead, I saw a wide grin splitting his face.

  “Experience points!” He laughed. “Finally, we’ve got experience points. Fucking hundreds.”

  As far as revelations went, there were certainly less pleasant surprises to be faced with.