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the arena, washing over
Garth like a wave.
 In three days time let us find the fighter who shall be worthy to be known
as servant of He Who Rules over All!
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 So be it!
The reply was roared out by half a million voices, but Garth stood silent,
except for the faintest of curses escaping his lips that was lost in the wild
insanity of screams.
-------
CHAPTER 11
ZAREL EWINE, GRAND MASTER OF THE ARENA, looked around at the howling mob which
filled the arena.
 Sometimes I wish you all had but one neck, he snarled under his breath,
dropping the power of far speaking so that his true thoughts could not be
heard.
The circle of monks lifted up the brazier and carried it back into the tunnel,
while a dozen monks, cowls covering their faces, remained behind, standing
respectfully to the left side of Zarel s juggernaut. From the far corners of
the arena the four House Masters now approached, this time on foot, for the
only magics allowed in the great fighting circle were those of the fighters
engaged in the contest and that of the
Grand Master himself. Behind each of them were four warriors, bearing between
them a heavy gold urn, which contained golden disks with the names of the
fighters of the Houses engraved thereon.
He waited, disgusted by the wild howling of the mob and what he suspected was
the deliberately slow pace of Kirlen, who hobbled along, resting heavily on
her staff. The four stopped at the foot of the great juggernaut and Zarel
finally stirred, stepping down from the throne to the fanfare of trumpets and
drums.
At the foot of the throne was the ceremonial circle of choosing, a solid sheet
of gold several fathoms across which was set into the sand-packed floor of the
arena. To one side of the circle the monks stood silent, their cowls pulled
up to cover their faces, and before them was placed a silver-inlaid table.
Zarel stepped into the circle and the four House Masters followed while the
servants carried the urns over and placed them on the table.
Zarel looked at the Four Masters, his cold gaze settling on Kirlen.
 Is his name in your urn? he finally asked.
 Who? Her voice was filled with a cold sarcasm.
 Damn you, you know of whom I speak.
 He is enlisted in my House by the right of my choosing and you may not
interfere.
 He is a wanted felon.
 He was a wanted felon, Kirlen replied sharply,  or have you forgotten the
rules? No fighter may be arrested during Festival or taken at any time from
his House.
Kirlen looked around at the other three House Masters for support.
 He s dangerous, Jimak of Purple replied.  You should have killed him.
 You only say that because he s not wearing your color. Besides, you had him
and would have more than happily betrayed him to Zarel for what I suspect was
nothing more than another golden trinket.
 I did no such thing.
 He betrayed all of us, Tulan interjected.
 Of course he did, Kirlen chuckled coldly.  But I m the one who has him now
and he ll fight for me and he ll win. I think, Zarel, your rage comes from
the fact that it will be the Walker who will finally have him and not you.
Let him decide what to do with One-eye.
 You seduced him away from me, Varnel of Fentesk snapped, looking over
angrily at Kirlen.  That was in violation of the rules.
 Well, that s too bad, Kirlen replied tauntingly.  Go over and ask him to
come back like a good boy.
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 Shut up, all of you, Zarel snarled.
 How dare you, Kirlen hissed.  You might be Master of the Arena, but
together we have more power than you.
 Try it, Zarel replied heatedly.  Just try it. Without me and the arena you
would be nothing.
 Rather it is the other way around, Kirlen replied.  You can t even control
one lone hanin
. You are a joke and unfit to rule.
Zarel fixed her with his gaze and then he noticed that the mob had fallen
strangely quiet. There was an electric-like tension in the air, as if they
somehow sensed that something was going wrong down in the golden circle. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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