AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Sahalik belched again and took the jug back. "So you think the tribe's ready for a new chief?" he asked.
Jedra shrugged. It was hard to concentrate on Sahalik's words, but he made himself try. He said, "The old one's still kicking, but he didn't look good when we last saw him. I don't know if you'd have to wait for him to die-he'd probably give you the honor just for the asking. If the Jura-Dai can do that sort of thing."
"The Jura-Dai can do whatever we want," Sahalik said. He drank, then said, "I think I will go back. I will come gibbering and capering out of the desert like a mad fool, and I will bark like a rasclinn at the moons until everyone laughs at me. And then-" he belched-"my worst fears already realized, I will settle down to become a wise old man whom even the warriors respect."
"Sounds like a good plan," Jedra said. "I'd love to go with you, but you see how it is." He rattled his leg chain.
"I would help you escape if I could," Sahalik said, heedless of the guards listening to him, "but the entire city would come after us. Your upcoming battle is the biggest thing to happen here since Kalak started the ziggurat. Everyone is betting on it."
"Really." Jedra took the jug and drained the last of the wine. He didn't know what to say to that.
Sahalik said, "So far the betting gives you just about even odds."
"I hate to disappoint everybody, but there won't be any fight."
Sahalik shook his head. "Don't be so sure. If you don't fight, you'll both be tortured to death. The crowd must be entertained, after all."
"Gods forbid that the crowd be disappointed," Jedra said wryly.
Sahalik didn't smile. "As hard as Kalak has been pushing this city to build his ziggurat, he needs to provide an outlet for people's frustrations. If he doesn't, there's going to be a revolt. So you can be sure he'll make a spectacle of you one way or the other."
"You're not thinking this through," Sahalik said. He took the jug from Jedra, saw that it was empty, and set it on the floor beside the bunk. "If you do fight, you can at least assure that one of you will die a
relatively painless death. Under the circumstances, it would be the best gift you could give Kayan."
Jedra shuddered. "I couldn't."
"Then you had best hope she can give it to you." Sahalik stood up. "During our next practice sessions I will show you both how to kill someone painlessly, and how to make superficial wounds that will make the battle look much worse than it is. But I'm afraid that's all I can do." He picked up his jug and walked to the door, but he paused with his hand on the latch. "Besides spreading the tale, of course. I will make the tribe's bard compose a more complimentary song than his last one about you, and I will send him to every city in the land to sing about your tragic love."
"Thanks." Jedra leaned back against the wall, blushing.
Sahalik shrugged. "The Jura-Dai honor our heroes."
Heroes, Jedra thought. Hah. He never wanted to be a hero.
* * *
Over the next few days, he got a small taste of what it felt like, though. All the soldiers and servants whispered among themselves and watched him whenever he took the practice field, no doubt trying to gauge his performance so they could decide who to bet on, and between practices he got the best meals he'd ever eaten. He assumed Kayan was getting the same treatment, but the noble was true to his word; they even practiced separately. Sahalik and Shani offered to pass messages back and forth, but neither one could think of anything to say except "I love you."
When Jedra asked Sahalik if he'd talked to Kayan about prearranging the fight, Sahalik laughed and said, "I suspect that any fighting you do will be over who has to strike the other. She refuses to raise arms against you, just as you have refused to against her." All the same, Sahalik taught Jedra-and presumably Kayan-how to perform a merciful execution. Fortunately, if anything could be considered fortunate in their situation, they would both be fighting with the simplest of gladiators' weapons: a sword and a shield, so at least they wouldn't have to bludgeon one another to death. Jedra tried to learn the various deadly cuts and thrusts into vital organs, thinking to use the best method on himself at the first opportunity, but Sahalik assured him that opportunity would never arise. He practiced with a soft wooden sword, and if he did succeed in killing himself either before or during the actual battle then Kayan would be punished for it.
"You have no options," Sahalik told him one morning after he'd caught Jedra testing his blunted blade against his own chest. "One of you must die by the other's hand or the survivor will be tortured to death, and the sooner you accept that the better off you both will be."
"I can't accept it," said Jedra. "There has to be a way out of this mess. I just haven't found it yet."
"There doesn't have to be a way out," Sahalik insisted. "You've lived long enough to know that."
Jedra ignored him. "How about my own psionic power?" he asked. "Will I be able to use that during the fight?"
Sahalik shrugged. "Who can say? The judges won't let you simply stop your heart, or hers either. It wouldn't be bloody enough. But if you try something spectacular, they might let you do it."
Something spectacular. Jedra wondered if mind-merging and knocking the ziggurat over onto the stadium and the palace would be enough, but he couldn't see how that would help him and Kayan get away. There were simply too many other psionicists who could also mind-merge and keep them from doing it. If the last few weeks in Tyr had taught Jedra anything, it was that he and Kayan weren't invincible. They had a talent, sure, and when they used it they could do some incredible things, but they weren't indestructible. They were just average people with a not-so-average ability who were nonetheless about to be chewed up and spit out by the system just like everyone else.
That kind of attitude wasn't going to get him anywhere, he knew, but neither was wishful thinking and self-delusion. Unless he could come up with an escape plan, he and Kayan would face one another in the arena the day after tomorrow and then nothing anybody could do would be able to save them.
Unless of course the king suddenly had a change of heart, but since Kalak didn't have a heart to begin with, the odds of that happening were less than slim. No, they had to escape beforehand or not at all. Trouble was, Jedra could think of no way to do that.
* * *
