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“Ha, what they don’t know don’t hurt ’em. Besides, I pay the bastards an unfair share to be left alone the majority of the time. The Shadows get what they want out of it, and if they’re happy, I’m happy.”
Mara didn’t get it.
“Ha, there’s smoke coming out of your ears. Best you try not to understand it.”
“What?” Mara put his hands up to his ears.
“It’s a saying, you stupid little bastard.” Favian shook his head, then looked forward.
Mara felt stupid. How was I supposed to know?
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the woman on the square shouted, “please welcome our first dispute.”
The crowd went wild, shouting and singing, as two skinny men that looked like farmers made their way onto the square.
“Silence,” a guard shouted several times.
The duke shuffled some papers in front of him. “A dispute for the love of a Miss Gloria… Battersmill. Death, unconsciousness, or yield. Either party may yield at this moment and pay the penalty of one hundred gold coins.” He looked up from his papers. “No?”
Both men on the square shook their heads.
The duke nodded. Four guards in black armour joined the men, one standing in each corner of the square with a golden shield. Another man dressed in white stood between the two men.
“Fighting over a fucking woman, what’s wrong with these people? Women are a waste of everyone’s time,” Favian said. “Over here, you.”
A dirty young man came up over the benches. He carried a large pouch that jingled as he moved. Is that all coins in there?
“Either of those peasants favourite?” Favian asked the dirty man.
“Shirt with the cross, sir,” the dirty man said.
“Fifty gold on him then.”
“Fifty, sir? This is the opening bout.”
“Come here.” Favian flicked a finger toward his own face. “If I want your concern, I’ll fucking ask for it,” he whispered in the dirty man’s ear.
The dirty man took a bag of coins from Favian, wrote something on a piece of paper, smiled nicely, then walked across the benches talking to many other people, taking coins from each one.
“What did you give him that for?” Mara asked.
Favian licked the paper of his next roll-up. “A bet. If the man with the cross on his back wins, I get one hundred coins back.”
“What if he loses?”
“What do you fucking think? You really are as stupid as you look, aren’t you?”
The crowd cheered as the fight began, then immediately booed after the man with the cross on his back was knocked out with one punch.
“Fucking scum,” Favian shouted. “For fuck’s sake!”
Mara was happy Favian had lost fifty coins. I hope you never win.
The next fight was between two fat men who fought over a land dispute, whatever that was. The fight went on for a long time as they rolled around on the square. The crowd laughed. The man in white had got them to stand back up a few times, but they always ended up back on the floor. Eventually, the duke banged a block on the table. It reminded Mara of mealtimes in the Shadow Castle, making him hungry. The two fat men were made to stand and face the table.
“Fat bastards,” Favian said.
A different high-class man from the table stood to speak. “Either man may yield and pay a five hundred gold coin fee, or return for armed combat in one week’s time.”
