She Who Has No Name (The Legacy Trilogy) (57 page)

‘You are in no position to make such bold statements, Magician.  Perhaps I will play with you some more to test your resilience and then we shall see if I cannot dampen some of that fiery spirit.  I was personally quite disappointed with your effort in the arena today.  I hope next time you will display some of your fabled magic, rather than running around like a witless fool.  Your friends have put on a much better show than you.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked with concern.

She smiled as if she had just eaten a gloriously delicious sweet.  ‘Your other friends from the
W
est, Samuel of Cintar.  You didn’t think I would let them sit idle in my city did you?  They have been entertaining my people much more splendidly than you, although they have started to look a little worse for wear.’

‘Where are they?’

‘Would you like to see them?  Very well.  I will arrange it.  Go now and leave me be.’

She looked at her attendants and a trio of bare-chested guards stepped from the shadows with their curved swords at the ready and escorted Samuel back to his new room. 

He slept uneasily and woke when the unusual presence of sunlight came streaming in through his window.  After spending so long in his prison, the diurnal cycle of light and dark felt entirely foreign to him, but it was a welcome sight nonetheless. 

Dressing himself in his Paatin robes as best he could, he readied himself for what the day would bring.

Utik’cah brought him a set of magicians’ robes shortly after breakfast and explained that he would be expected to perform in the arena once more.  The clothes were expertly made and seemed more than just a copy.  He suspected they had been stolen from the Order and brought all the way from Turia, appearing to be authentic in make and brand new.

‘How many will I be expected to kill today?’ he asked the man.  After having some decent meals and a good night’s rest,
h
e felt a different man to yesterday.

‘I do not know and cannot say,’ was Utik’cah’s reply.

‘I will kill as many more of your people as you set against me.’

Utik’cah gave a hint of a smile, not out of cruelty, but of one who has received an unusual surprise.  ‘They were not desert people that you killed, Lord Samuel.  They were captives, like yourself
,
from the land of Avalia.  We would not make our own kind fight for amusement.  We are not animals.  In fact, we had assumed you would ally yourself with the Avalians for your first battle, weakened as you were, but you seemed intent on killing them.  I was surprised by your ferocity.’

Samuel had no reply, for he was taken aback by the revelation.  At that point, he wished he had some tiny mote of his power, for it seemed that Utik’cah was one of the Paatin Queen’s most trusted servants.  If he could reach inside the man’s mind he could learn everything he wished to know about her and her war, or perhaps even force the man to be more open to suggestion.

Frustrated, he had only a question for the Paatin.  ‘What was that creature I fought?  Will there be more of them?’

‘That was a
jidanti
—a lizard of the desert.  I cannot say what you will face today.’

‘I can’t imagine such beasts are natural.  They could not grow to such dimensions without magical intervention.’

‘As you presume, Lord Samuel, our wizards have gained great insight into many aspects of nature.’

‘And in the desert I saw another large creature.  I could not see it clearly, but it had a great hardened shell upon its back.’

‘
Sitt’i
,’ Utik’cah stated.  ‘A powerful creature, but unreasonably slow.  They are immeasurably strong and resilient.  They can demolish the strongest of fortifications quite easily.  I am not fond of such beasts, but they have their uses.’

‘Are these what you have in mind for Cintar?’ Samuel asked, but Utik’cah replied with a look that meant there would be no response to a question such as that.

‘Let us go,’ he stated instead and waved his hand towards the door.

Samuel followed the Queen’s loyal servant towards the arena, and this time he had regained his senses enough to memorise much of the route and what he saw around him.

Reaching the same double doors, Utik’cah merely stepped aside and waited as the guards open the portals wide and shunted Samuel through. 

The blazing sun and the noise of the crowd fell upon him at once and he took a few shuffling steps into the open.  Standing in the middle of the arena was another black-robed magician and Samuel immediately recognised the energies of Eric.

‘Eric!’ he called, and scampered over as quick
ly
as he could, feeling the hot sand getting into his sandals and between his toes.  As he arrived beside his friend, he was shocked
at
the sight of him.  Eric was gaunt and haggard, and his aura was thin and wan, but he smiled as well as he could when he saw it was Samuel approaching him.

‘Samuel.  Where have you been?  I thought you were dead.’

‘No.  Not quite yet.  What happened?  Why are you here?’

‘The Queen caught us as soon as you left.  She took us to her dungeons and they have been making me fight here ever since.’

‘Where are the others?’

‘I haven’t seen anyone since they caught us.  They beat me and starved me and then brought me out to duel in this barbaric spectacle.  Only Lomar escaped, for he was out in the city when they came for us.’

‘And the Koians?’

Eric shook his head.  ‘I don’t know.  I haven’t seen anyone.  They could all be dead for all I know.’

The crowd hushed and the two of them read
ied themselves.
O
ne of the many doors that marked the arena
walls
opened and figures
could be seen moving about within.

‘No matter who or what comes out, Samuel, we must kill them,’ Eric said determinedly.  ‘If we don’t, they will kill us all.  They don’t allow surrender.’

Samuel peered up into the crowd, hoping to find the seat of the Queen.  There were many lavish viewing boxes around the arena, most adorned with feathers and curtains and such, and he could not see into most of them at all.

Movement caught his eye and their opponents entered the arena.

‘I have no magic,’ Samuel stated.

‘What!’ Eric said with disbelief.  ‘Where is your ring?’

‘Balten has it.’

‘Why does Balten have it?  Where is he?’

‘He is hiding it for me or the Paatin would have it
.
I don’t know where he is.  I need to find him before I can do anything.’

Two magicians came out opposite them, wearing thick furs and armoured helms.

‘Gartens!’ Eric said.

‘Why are they dressed in furs here in the desert?  Not even the Gartens are so foolish.’

‘It’s part of the entertainment,’ Eric said.  ‘They want us to look the part.’  And he gestured to the black Order robes he, too, had been given.

‘We can’t kill them.’

‘We must!  I’ve seen what happens to those who try to parley.’

‘They are fresh, Eric.  I cannot call my magic and you look about ready to fall over.  It’s foolish to fight.’

‘It is them or us.’

Samuel nodded finally.  ‘If they have just arrived, they will not know the rules of the arena.  Then let me take care of them.  Stay here.’ 

He started off towards the other pair, who stood ready as he approached, gathering their magic.  They were not overly powerful mages, but powerful enough to beat Eric and Samuel in their current decrepit states. 

Samuel raised his hands and showed them his empty palms.

‘Parley!’ he called over in the Old Tongue, but the two remained defensive.

‘
Tay panna!
’ Eric called from behind.

‘Tay panna, tay panna,’ Samuel called, moving in closer. 

‘Hold there, Turian,’ one of the
N
orth-men replied in the language of magicians.  He was a portly and elderly man with a red
,
scruffy beard.  ‘No need to go butchering our language.  We understand the Old Tongue as well as you.  What do you want?  Quickly, before you die.’

‘A truce,’ Samuel called, edging closer.

‘Hold there!’ the magician’s mate called, summoning an inferno of magic around himself, and Samuel stopped dead in his tracks.  ‘We can make no truce.  It’s clear these desert pigs want us to kill each other.  And we’re not going back into those accursed cells.’

‘We can bargain with them,’ Samuel continued.  ‘The four of us against ten of their warriors.  They expect entertainment, but if my friend and I fight you two, it will be a slaughter.  We are clearly outclassed.  He is a poor magician to begin with and I am no magician at all, as you can surely tell.  If we cannot entertain them, they will simply increase the odds until we are dead.’

‘That’s your trouble.  The sooner we kill you the sooner we can be free.’

Samuel sauntered
closer to
them, looking as helpless as he could.  ‘They will never free you.  We have been here many weeks and they expect us to fight until we are dead.  However, if we can take on greater odds and give them a good show
,
we have the chance of freedom.’

The two seemed hesitant.  ‘I don’t trust you, Turian.’

The crowd was unsettled and taunts began to fly.  A row of spear-men stood from their seats at the top of the wall, and three hundred sharpened missiles came to the ready, bristling towards them like a row of spines along the wall.  The spear-men began to draw back their arms.  Somewhere from up above came the smell of magic.  Wizards were also preparing their spells.

‘Do you at least want to ask them or not?  There is nothing lost, but make your mind up before they spear us all.’

‘How will you speak with them?’ the red-bearded man asked.

Samuel was almost close enough—just about three steps away.  Their power was at hand, but they had prepared themselves for the magic
-
to
-
magic warfare of magicians, not for close-ranged physical attacks from a man with no power.  His goal was not to convince them of anything, but just to keep them occupied while he closed the gap.  He hoped to position himself so that, when it was time to act, he could have Red Beard between himself and the other one who had readied his spells—and he had done nicely.  ‘We can talk to that one, up there,’ he said and pointed high up into the stands.  The position of his arm was just right, so that his elbow was aimed directly into Red Beard’s face.  Their heads turned to follow his finger and
,
in that instant
,
Samuel leapt. 

He shot out with his elbow, springing across the final distance between them and he put his body into the blow with everything he could.  The point of his elbow struck the North-man square to the cheek.  Red Beard’s head spun like a top, almost to the rear
,
before his body gained the sense to begin spinning and follow it.  As his fellow returned his gaze from the crowd and had just beg
u
n to open his mouth with surprise, Samuel turned about and brought his other elbow over and down onto the nape of his neck, driving down with all his force.  The second Garten’s eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled like a swooning lady.  His magic vanished as he dropped, but the first
N
orth-man was still gasping and staggering about.

Samuel swept the man from his feet with a kick across the back of his knees and finished with a kick to his ribs that left the man gasping for air like a fish out of water.  The Gartens were still very much alive, but in no state to do anything but writhe in pain.