Chapter 3

During the next two weeks before the tournament, traffic through the forest became more and more heavy. The Shredder's soldiers patrolled the roads in greater numbers to protect the incoming merchants from being accosted by the outlaws, although it did nothing to deter Casey and his crew from wreaking havoc when least expected.

The day before the tournament was to start found Casey and Raph sparring in a clearing.

"I keep telling you, you've gotta move your feet, Casey!" Raph said, lunging toward his friend.

Casey dodged a swipe of Raph's arm. "And I keep tellin' you - I know what I'm doing!" He charged forward and rammed his shoulder against Raph's chest. He grunted a bit as his shoulder crunched against shell. "This ain't your fancy martial arts fighting." He ducked to avoid an elbow to the face, hooked a hand behind Raph's knee, and powered forward. Raph wasn't ready for the sudden change of direction and toppled over backwards, hitting the ground with a solid thud.

Casey grinned down at him in triumph before Raph swung a leg and took him out at the knees. Casey's feet flew into the air and he landed hard on his back, wheezing as the air whooshed out of his chest.

Raph snickered. "Yeah, you know what you're doin'." Casey couldn't speak, but he gave Raph a dirty look and slugged him hard on the arm. "Hey!"

"Whoa, whoa…" Mikey's voice drifted over from the edge of the clearing. "We're gonna have enough people to punch when this thing goes down without you two beating each other to a pulp."

"Not...beating," Casey managed, lifting himself up on his elbows. "Practicing."

Mikey smirked. "Uh-huh."

Raph brushed dirt from his shell, snorting a laugh when he saw his brother's garb. "Now that just looks wrong."

"Hey!" Mikey feigned offense, brushing at the brown folds of his friar's robe. "I'll remind you that I was almost confirmed a friar before I had to leave the monastery to break your butt out of prison."

"I know," Raph answered with a grin. "You oughta thank me for bailing you out."

Mikey huffed and rolled his eyes. "That's debatable." But he extended a hand to help Raph to his feet.

"What about me?" Casey asked indignantly.

"Nobody's gonna help you up during a real fight," Raph answered. "You're on your own."

Casey grumbled and got to his feet as Leo and Don entered the clearing from the far side. Raph's face darkened when he saw his brothers carrying rucksacks, ready to leave. Both were wearing the colorful fighting masks their father had given them when he had begun teaching them martial arts: blue and purple. "So this is it, huh?" he asked.

"We're ready," Leo answered. "Sydney's fighters are in by now, and the tournament starts tomorrow."

"Which is when we'll get there," Mikey said, nodding. "We'll move in first thing in the morning."

Raph folded his arms across his chest. "Just watch your backs."

"They'll be fine, Raphie," Mikey said, draping his arm across Raph's shoulders. He waved a cheerful goodbye as his brothers set off towards the tournament grounds, tightening his grip with a smirk as Raph tried unsuccessfully to shrug him off. "C'mon, cheer up," he said. "We can take advantage of this lull to get your disguise in order." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tightly folded wad of fabric, shaking it out to hold up a second brown hooded monk's robe.

Raph snorted and rolled his eyes. "Great."

Don pulled the folds of his hooded cloak more closely around himself, eyes darting to and fro as he and Leonardo joined the steady flow of wagons and foot traffic entering the exhibition grounds. He didn't see Sydney anywhere in the crowd, but he knew she had to be close. They'd planned to meet her near the south entrance, but they'd arrived a bit early and she wasn't in sight.

Leo brushed a hand lightly against his arm. "Take it easy," he said, giving him a smile.

Don laughed a little and let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Sorry," he answered quietly. "It's been a while since we've been around so many soldiers."

"True enough," Leo said wryly. Sentries stood at every street corner, and flickers of motion at the edges of his vision betrayed the location of shadow warriors skulking in the crowd. The air was thick with dust stirred up from the road and smoke from the food vendors and blacksmith stands. Despite the mass of people - and despite the fact that they were considerably shorter than most of the humans - no one bumped into them. Even if Don's bo and Leo's bow, quiver, and sword hadn't been plainly visible, the fact that they were Demi-humans was enough of a novelty so that they were given a wide berth.

"The arena for quarterstaff fighting is at the far end of the grounds," Don said. "I'll plan on scouting the area to see how far we'll have to…" He trailed off and his hand clamped on Leo's forearm, jerking his brother to a halt. "Leo...look."

Leo followed Don's gaze about a hundred yards ahead. A heavily muscled man with a long yellow braid strode towards them, standing head and shoulders above the crowd. "Hun." The word slipped out of Leo on a breath. He shook off the shock that had rooted him to the ground and clutched Don's arm in return, steering his brother over behind a nearby blacksmith's tent.

Don swallowed hard against the churning in his gut. "Leo, what's he doing here?"

Leo shook his head, risking a glance around the edge of the tent. "I don't know. I guess he could be here for the tournament, but he's never come before. I don't know what else could have brought him here; it's a two-week journey from York."

"What if he's looking for Raph?" Don asked quietly.

"Nobody but us knows for sure where Raph is," Leo answered. "Besides, it's been ten years...do you really think Hun would try to track him down after so long?"

"We know he can hold a grudge. He's certainly done his job making sure Raph stays a wanted man," Don replied grimly. He leaned close to Leo, watching as the crowd flowed by. Hun soon came into view again, gazing around self-importantly, and Don's eyes widened as he saw the gold badge with the Shredder's crest pinned to Hun's vest. "Ohhh shell," he said in a low voice. "He's the sheriff!"

"What?" Leo craned around Don to see. "What happened to Stockman?"

"I don't know, but we'd better find out fast. Where in the world did Sydney get to?"

Leo glanced around once more. Hun had vanished into the crowd, and he couldn't decide if that made him feel more or less at ease. But he couldn't see Sydney either, and the unexpected appearance of his family's enemy had rattled him more than he cared to admit. "There," he said, relief evident in his voice as he recognized a familiar face. Don followed his gesture and smiled in welcome as he made eye contact with their friend across the street.

Sydney returned the smile, crossing quickly and stepping behind the tent to join them, out of the press and flow of the crowd. "There you are! You know, little guys like you are hard to find in a crowd."

Leo smiled slightly in return, but sobered quickly. "Sydney, have you heard anything about a new sheriff?"

Her brows lifted slightly at the unexpected question. "Oh, Sheriff Hun? The Shredder just appointed him. He got impatient with Sheriff Stockman's failure to 'eliminate the plague of outlaws'," she smirked, "and apparently Hun has quite a reputation in his hometown. I'm not sure what happened to Stockman, though. No one has seen him since Hun came to town." Her smirk faded a bit. "But this doesn't change anything, does it?"

"Hun and Raphael have met before," Leo answered. "It was ten years ago. I doubt Hun has forgotten it, but…" He sighed. "Well, no, nothing has changed. But we'll have to be careful."

Don winked and gave Leo a nudge. "We're always careful."

Leo rolled his eyes, but huffed a laugh. "I'm glad it's you saying it and not Raph. I might actually believe you."

The first day of the tournament dawned clear and bright. April rode to the royal pavilion alongside Karai. Hun and a large squad of soldiers hemmed them in on all sides, keeping the milling crowds of fighters and spectators at a safe distance. April didn't dare search the crowds to try and spot the outlaws; she knew they'd be doing their best to blend in, and she wouldn't see them unless they wanted to be seen.

The tournament grounds were too large for April to view all of the events. The hand-to-hand combat and swordfighting competition would be in the main arena while the archery and quarterstaff elimination rounds would take place elsewhere over the first two days. Even so, it was hard to see everything; six fighting rings had been staked out in the arena.

Hun eyed the hand-to-hand combat fighters skeptically. "The Shredder never chooses many of these fighters. Why even bother with them?"

"The ones who fight with weapons are rarely skilled at fighting without them," Karai replied. "I don't think much of fighting hand to hand, but it does have its uses."

A young voice chirped at April's elbow. "Sweet roll, milady?"

April turned to see a dark-skinned teenage girl standing next to the pavilion, holding a covered basket. April started to say no, but the girl's bright gaze seemed to intensify as she looked at her, and she changed her denial to a nod. "Yes, thank you." April was sure the girl charged for her wares, but she did not name a price, and something about the firm way the paper-wrapped roll was pressed into her palm told April she should not offer. The girl grinned at her and vanished into the living river of people.

April carefully unfolded the corner of the paper, heart fluttering as she saw what she'd expected to find - a few lines scrawled on the inside of the wrapping in ink almost too light to read. She carefully pulled off pieces of the sweetened bread, hardly tasting it as she darted glances down at the paper every few minutes.

The girl who brought this to you is Angel. She's one of ours. You should know that Hun may recognize R and C. The plan is still in place. We'll be in touch. - D

That was it. April crumpled the paper in her hand, heart thumping uneasily. What did Donatello mean, Hun might recognize Raphael and Casey? How big of a problem was this going to be? Perhaps not much, if they were willing to go ahead with the attempt to overthrow the Shredder - but then again, these were the outlaws who had spent years courting death to better the lives of their countrymen. Their abilities at risk assessment weren't quite what would be considered normal.

She felt a laugh bubbling at the edge of her stomach, but she wasn't sure if it was elation or hysteria. But the surge of hope that she had felt over the past couple weeks refused to die, and she took a deep breath. The hand that was curled around the message from Donatello turned into a determined fist, and April held her breath as the first six pairs of fighters stepped into the rings. With a ringing of gongs and a roar from the crowd, the Shredder's tournament commenced.