Section Eight: The Gladiators
"So what exactly is beyond the mountains?" Falco asked, guiding his horse down the road.
"That's going to be the problem." Peppy admitted, looking at a map. "Recent reports say that's where the Jack of Tears has made his home…"
"Jack of Tears?" Katt glanced at him. "I've heard of him. Why hasn't the King dealt with him, if he and his many henchmen are so dangerous?"
"Mostly because the King isn't that much of a muttonhead." Falco said sourly. "I've also heard a good bit about the Jack of Tears, and none of it is good."
"Beyond the mountains is a saltwater swamp, then it changes to open fields. That's the border." Fox suddenly said. "Andross' front stronghold isn't far from the front lines of battle, by what I've heard in the various towns we've passed through."
"That's about right." Peppy said. "Actually, we'll be coming up on another town rather soon, but it's abandoned, according to this… er… Fox, where did you get this?"
"One of my father's friends made it for me." He smiled a bit. "Noticed it changes with our movements, eh?"
"Well, I…"
"It isn't abandoned, it's a Gypsy town." Said Bill abruptly. "Passing groups use it as living space. During good weather, there's almost always a minor populous, waiting for others to show up for trading. It's in good repair as far as I know. Even Andross wouldn't stoop as low to destroy it. Besides, it's said to be a spot watched by Fharlanghn and Olidammara."
"The God of Roads and the God of Rogues." Fox nodded.
"Who exactly do you follow anyway, Fox?" Slippy asked.
"Heironeous, Pelor, Corellon Larethian, and Ehlonna all get my approval, but I only pray to Heironeous." He replied, tapping the insignia on his shoulder. "As did my father."
"I remember." Peppy nodded. "I think that Heironeous had his eye on your father as well, pardon me." He looked to the sky and made a religious gesture.
Silence, then Falco twisted and looked at Bill. "How did you know about the town?"
Bill didn't reply.
Not long later, they rode into the town. No one was there, but it was still in good repair. It was several small houses and shops based around one large, circular building—an arena, by Fox's guess. Not surprising, while the capital itself had no arena, many other towns did.
The group spread out and did a thorough check of the empty village, and came back by the same report. It was empty.
"I wouldn't be traveling either, with what's going on." Said Slippy, shaking his head. "Andross' influence is spreading far past the front lines."
"Indeed." Fox took the tack off the horses and put them in a small pasture near where they were camping, setting his pack against a wall and stretching out. "Which means we have to be even more alert."
"This place has an aura." Katt remarked, brushing her hands over one of the building walls. "Much has happened here. Spirits talk."
"Yes. And scream."
"Is it safe to stay here?" Falco looked around wildly, totally dead to the whispers that flowed through the town.
"Of course. This town is protected, for now. Probably not for much longer, but we are safe." Peppy said, arriving, and pointed out spires around the town. "Those that travel through here have made efforts to ward away creatures that would do harm."
"Always a good thing." Falco relaxed, poking the fire.
"Where is Bill?" Slippy asked, finishing up a minor spell to protect their campsite.
"I last saw him entering the arena." Katt said, glancing up from pulling food out of her pack. "Would you like me to find him?"
"No, I will." Fox said, leaving the campsite.
The arena was built from stone, a bit worn from time, but still standing strong. He entered through one of the many egresses onto the arena floor, noticing the old text carved above the door—"Fighter's Entrance." Bill was kneeling in the center of the circular arena floor, sword stabbed into the ground in front of him, head bowed. Fox was careful not to disturb him as he approached.
"Praying to Fharlanghn and Olidammara?" He finally asked quietly.
"That too." Bill replied, not lifting his head. "But mostly, praying for those who lost their lives here." He sat back on his heels after a moment, looking around. "This place is full of spirits and memories."
"Yes, indeed." Fox watched as Bill stood and pulled his sword out of the sand, sheathing it. "You know more about this place then you show, don't you?"
"It has much to do with my past."
"Does not everything?"
"Mm. Past, present, or future." He stared off into the distance. "My past is here."
Fox raised his eyebrows. "I believed you to be a city man who joined the guard."
"Then you believed wrong. No, I had my roots elsewhere. I've only been on the guard for a little over a year now." He started walking toward the same entrance Fox had used. "General Pepper himself found me, and asked me to join. I did. It was much more stable then how I had been living."
"Indeed." Fox nodded, pacing him.
"… So who are they…?"
"No caravan markings…"
Fox woke up with a start and with a surge of his body snapped to his feet, ready to fight in seconds, looking around. The town had come strangely alive around them. Instead of empty, over a hundred people flocked here—several caravans. He looked around at the gypsies eying them, nudging his group awake. "We don't mean any harm, and we aren't a gypsy caravan. We are simply travelers."
"Indeed, good sir." The one that was apparently in charge raised his eyebrows. "Amazingly well armed for travelers."
"It is a dangerous world, sir."
"Indeed."
Fox's unicorn whinnied, leaping the corral fence and coming to stand by Fox, snorting. Against the glow of the unicorn's horn, the people in the village seemed almost faded.
"I-illusion?" Slippy said, standing.
"No. Memories." Said Katt.
"If you wish us to go we will go." Fox said, glancing at the horizon. Sunrise.
"No, no… you may stay. We have seen the markings of the gods you worship. We can tell you mean us no harm." Said the man in charge.
"How did you get into the village without us seeing?" Demanded another gypsy.
"We simply rode in. We saw no one." Falco replied.
"Indeed! And why should we believe you? You're Guild!"
"Thief's Honor." Falco bowed.
"He is correct." Said Peppy. "You can trust us."
"With the increasing evil in this world, none can be trusted." Said the second man.
"All too true." Fox said softly. "As for staying… no. We will pack and leave. We have quite a ways to go."
"Actually we would like to ask a favor good sirs." Said the man in charge.
"Oh? What kind of favor?" Fox gestured for the rest of his group to pack, and they obeyed, clearly uneasy with this situation. These were merely ghosts, spirits talking to them, changing the area to a bustling town. This was powerful magic at work, and they didn't want to disturb it.
"We were supposed to have a tournament. Several bands agreed to put in two fighters." The leader wove at the arena. "But… one of the caravans hasn't shown up, and the fight is tonight."
"So you want us to put in two fighters to replace those missing." Fox finished. "And if I am correct, arena fights are to the death, are they not?"
"Yes, or this one will be. Gladiators know the risk."
Bill stepped forward. "I'll do it."
"Bill!" Katt hissed, eyes wide.
"Do not worry. I did this for a number of years before I joined the guard." He said over his shoulder, eyes not leaving the leader.
"Ah a retired Gladiator, then?" The leader raised his eyebrows. "Who will be your partner then, young man?"
Fox stepped forward. "I will."
"It's done, then. You two will compete as partners. And do not worry, if you survive, the prize will be well worth it. The tournament is tonight. Please come with me…"
"They are crazy." Falco said, pacing back and forth. As the rest of the 'caravan,' they had a private box set up for them, some of the best seats in the arena. "Completely crazy."
"They aren't fighting normal people, they're fighting spirits." Katt said, looking out over the arena. "Apparently there are some unsettled sprits who wish to fight again, and they need mortal participants… or perhaps one of the caravans is truly missing."
"All of these people are dead, aren't they?" Whispered Slippy, looking around. "Andross?"
"Yes." Peppy nodded. "Let's just hope that Bill and Fox know what they are doing."
"Why did you agree to fight with me?" Bill asked, strapping on arm guards.
"Because you need a partner who is competent, at least with fighting. I admit I know nothing about arena-style fighting." Fox finished getting out of his armor and switched to gladiator-style armor, which was very little compared to what he usually wore. He passed over wearing a buckler, instead settling for arm guards and two leg guards. His swords weren't made for arena fighting; the blades were too long, the style of fighting used with them wrong. He tested short swords until he found one he was satisfied with, then hung it around his waist. "But I CAN fight, and that is better then nothing."
"Not if you get me killed."
"I won't." Fox looked at him seriously. "I know we haven't known each other long, and you are the veteran here, but you'll have to trust me, William."
Bill startled at the long version of his name—he hadn't really been called that since before he had started fighting as a Gladiator. "All right. I thank you."
Fox sighed, and tightened an armband around one upper arm—a leather band decorated in the insignia of Heironeous. "Who do you worship, Grey?"
"Kord, god of strength."
"Mm. I suppose that is the best choice for a gladiator."
Bill smiled. "Indeed."
They were in a room, almost like a cage or cell, not far from the fighter's entrance. As evening approached, they could hear other fights going on, and not far away, an angry beast roaring and rattling cage bars.
"How did you come to be a gladiator?"
"I'm not originally from this kingdom. I was sold into slavery at an early age, and when I was twelve I started training to fight. At fourteen I was in the arenas. I'm nineteen now." Bill easily wove a knife through his fingers absently.
Fox imitated him, then threw it at a target, hitting dead center.
"How about yourself? You seem much like a Knight who has no lord, and has not been knighted, if that makes any good sense."
He had to laugh. "A Knight? Me? Oh, no. You have to understand that my father was a Knight, Bill, and one of the King's most well-recognized and noble fighters. A crusader, in fact. While he was on the crusades, he ended up forming a, well, team with Pigma Dengar and our own Peppy Hare." He sobered. "He was executed for murder. He was framed."
"I suppose that is why you are questing like you are."
"Yes. It is my father who trained me, and while I do side with the King, while I have my honor and uphold the law, I have my own agenda. I know what has to be done and I'll do it with or without permission from the King." He sat back against the stone wall.
"Brave man." Bill smiled. "And I suppose that a very beautiful, charming princess who is being held by Andross has nothing at all to do with it?"
Fox sputtered, then said, "No, of course not!"
"I believe you." Bill grinned and said no more.
The door opened, and the town leader stood in the doorway. "It's time."
Fox propped a foot up on the anvil, watching the heavy metal cuff be secured around his foot. He and Bill were now chained together with four feet of slack between them. This restricted his fighting style even more; he'd have to drop much of his oriental training and depend on more direct moves.
"Stay in stride." Bill ordered as they moved to the gate and waited. "The last thing we want to do is trip."
"I agree. Who are we against?"
"Four or five other pairs, I believe. To last pair standing." Bill looked through the barred gate into the arena. "We might or might not get challenged after that if we survive."
"Hmm. What do you believe our odds to be?"
"Like the others. Oh, and Fox… NO MAGIC."
"All right." He held up his hands. "You must understand how much magic drains me. I'm far from being a mage or sorcerer. It's just that that small percentage of elf in me allows me to perform SOME magic."
"Hmm."
They stood in the center of the arena with the other pairs, waiting. The gypsy in charge gave the nod, and the fight began.
Fox and Bill spun back to back and drew their swords. Fox automatically laid out the fight in his head, then shook his head sharply—he couldn't fight like that right now. He'd have to change his tactics completely. He was chained to his partner, and he didn't have the weapons he was used to.
"We have to start moving!" He shouted over his shoulder above the din of the crowd.
"Agreed!" Bill spun so he was beside Fox, still in a ready position. "NOW!"
They charged forward, staying in stride. Fox had to heavily compensate for the weight on one ankle, but Bill was used to it and paced him perfectly. They leapt into the fray, and Fox twirled on the chain, leaping to Bill's other side. The chain cracked the air, catching one of the other fighter's ankles. The other fighter staggered, caught between Bill and Fox, and Fox swung.
Crimson blood splattered into the air, flying up in a fan, following the short sword's motion. It ran down the blade, soaking into his fur, but he ignored it, setting a foot on the chain. The dead man's partner spun, staring with wide eyes as the short sword slashed through his throat. The crowd screamed as the fighter fell.
Fox muttered softly, praying, as he spun to fight the next team. He didn't want to kill his fellow fighters, but knew he had to, and struck as Bill did, fighting with all his ability.
In the end, it was only Fox and Bill standing there, the other fighters dead or wounded. Fox shook off slowly, moving to sheath his sword, then stopping when he saw the blood dripping off it.
"Congratulations." Bill said, looking at Fox. "You can now call yourself a gladiator."
Fox didn't reply, wiping at blood that had splattered over his cheekbone. Much as he tried to uphold the law, much as he tried to uphold his father's ideals, he had just killed ten innocents. Well, innocents in his mind. Fellow gladiators, true, but not enemies.
"Well done." Said the man in charge, clapping along with the crowd. "Very well done."
Bill and Fox bowed as one, shaking blood off their swords and sheathing them.
"We've done what you asked us to, and we've won." Fox said.
"True." The gypsy's smile changed slightly. "And I did say there was a prize. However, there is one more fight you must complete if you wish to gain that prize."
"Indeed? Well, I suppose we shall accept that challenge then, if the prize is worth the risk."
"You tell me."
One of the gates opened, and a smaller red dragon burst through it, wings partly unfolding and rearing to its full height, then screaming as chains held it back. It shook the chains and shrieked furiously, eyes picking out and targeting the two fighters left. It opened its wings; the webs were gone. This dragon had clearly been forced into captivity, and wasn't happy at all.
"Remind me when this is over to learn Draconic." Fox muttered to Bill, going on guard, staring up at the angry creature.
"If we survive this, I will."
The gypsy clapped, and as the dragon was released, Fox stabbed the point of his sword into the center of the chain that connected him to Bill, and snarled a few words. Magic cracked from him, and the chain broke. They lunged to different sides as the dragon stalked forward, breathing fire.
"That creature is beyond reason!" Falco shouted angrily. "I can't believe this! If I get my hands on that gypsy…"
"Talk later!" Slippy ordered, concentrating, building up spells. Katt was doing the same. Peppy loaded his bow and aimed.
"This might just endanger them more." Katt remarked.
"If anything it'll distract that thing." He replied, and all of them attacked at once.
The dragon screamed and turned its head toward them, shaking off arrows, now insanely angry. Fox gestured to Bill, and they charged at the same time. Bill leapt and landed on the dragon's back, bracing himself and stabbing in between two large scales. The dragon screamed and shook, sending him flying, and snapped around, rearing and tossing its head. It lashed its tail, and screams could be heard from the arena as the powerful appendage did damage to the arena stands, causing people to lunge, duck, and leap out of the way.
Fox, off to one side and as yet unseen, saw Bill hit the ground and roll, then get to his feet and get to a ready position. He dodged under the dragon and flipped his sword so he could stab up, looking at his partner and waiting. Bill was beckoning to the dragon, holding his sword one-handed. The dragon laughed once, great and booming, prowling closer to Bill.
"What's so funny pray tell?" Bill asked the dragon coldly.
"You. Facing me. Alone." The dragon hissed as a reply, crouched and ready, then lunged.
"FOX!" Falco threw his sword.
Fox dropped his short sword and lunged, catching the sword by the hilt then twirling. The dragon snapped its body away from the blazing blade, snarling angrily. Fox stepped up next to Bill, standing ready.
"Glad you decided to join me." Bill remarked.
"You couldn't drag me away." Fox replied, standing in a ready position that was a bit exotic to Bill—he supposed it was part of Fox's oriental training. "I personally have never fought a dragon. How about you?"
He shook his head vigorously, circling as the dragon did. "Any idea how to get past the scales?"
"Not yet." Fox eyed the dragon, holding his oriental stance as they circled.
The dragon tired of the game and lunged, snapping its head forward like a striking snake. Bill lunged to one side, Fox leapt back and upward gracefully, landing on the edge of the stands and going to a ready position again. The dragon blasted fire, and he dodged again, leaping up and forward, then tucking and rolling to one side so he was under the dragon again.
Bill held his position, holding the sword in one hand and making a gesture at the dragon for it to attack. It laughed once more, rearing its head up to strike down. Bill was ready, and when the dragon's mouth came down, his sword went up, plunging through the roof of the dragon's mouth and into the brain. At the same time, Fox struck, stabbing Falco's sword right through the dragon's windpipe, preventing the dragon from breathing fire.
The dragon fell, collapsing onto its side, blood pooling around it.
"Well then." Fox dusted himself off and looked in the direction of the head gypsy. "What's your next challenge? A tarrasque?"
The gypsy laughed out loud. "No. I do believe that I've seen enough. Now I promised you a prize, did I not?"
"Yes indeed." Bill stood as Fox gave him a hand up, nodding once to his partner.
"Unfortunately, the prize I have is only meant for one person…" He looked at Bill, then looked at Fox. "You may wash and return to your armor. I think your partner is in greater need of said prize then you are."
Fox shrugged and left the arena floor. He had just finished putting on his armor and was returning Falco's sword when Bill appeared.
The armor he had been wearing had been exchanged for red-tinted half-plate armor. He wore it comfortably, and smiled when he saw the group looking at the sudden change of attire.
"It's flame resistant." Bill said simply. "I suppose that would be a good thing, since we are entering dragon territory?"
"Yes, indeed." Fox smiled.
Wind slammed them, and they were suddenly standing in the middle of a ghost town.
"Do you suppose that the Almighties are playing a game with us?" Falco said, stunned.
"Don't blaspheme." Fox warned. "And no, I don't. If Kord sees fit to grant one of his followers some rather interesting armor, who are we to argue?"
"Kord didn't…" Bill started.
"Are you sure?" Fox looked at him.
Silence, then Bill started laughing. "No, I'm not. Shall we move on?"
"We shall." Fox swung astride his unicorn as the rest of his group mounted up.