The woman led the way out of the feasting hall, Garth following. There was a clatter of stools and excited shouts as the other fighters fell in behind them. Ascending the stairs out of the hall, the woman turned left, going down a corridor paneled with a dark rich wood, and lit by high stained glass windows set into the ceiling so that the hallway was awash with color. Reaching the end of the hallway, she flung open the doors to a circular room a dozen fathoms across, the walls lined with benches, which were quickly filled by the other fighters of the house. The arena was occupied by half a dozen fighters, who were going through their morning exercises of weapons practice with lance, dagger, and throwing spikes. At the far end of the room several other pairs of fighters were sparring with spells, one of them struggling to use a team of goblins against his opponent’s dwarven warriors.
“Clear the arena,” the woman snapped.
The sparring fighters looked up and an instant later their minions disappeared into smoke and they withdrew.
The woman stepped out into the circle.
“Rules of the House. No fire, no creature of disease, and no spell which can go out of control or damage the House.”
“Is this match a mere testing, a wager of spell, or to the death?” Garth asked as if the answer really didn’t matter one way or the other.
“You know the answer to that,” she snapped. “Unless we have permission of the Master, it can only be a testing.”
“Well, do you have the Master’s permission?”
She smiled softly.
“Not yet.”
“Then a testing.”
Garth stepped into the neutral box at the far end of the arena while his opponent stepped into hers.
Garth waited until another fighter stepped forward as circle master and held his hands up.
The two bowed to him, then to eat other, and then back to the circle master. He clapped his hands three times and on the third clap jumped back. Like a panther the woman leaped into the arena and, as she did so, Garth reeled from the impact of a psionic blast that flayed the strength out of his body. He staggered forward, knowing that the spell was so powerful that it would in fact harm her as well, though the damage he would receive was far worse.
An approving crying of awed respect rose up from the spectators at the audacity of her move.
Garth finally waved his hands, erecting a barrier of protection to block the attack, thus conceding the offensive to her. Within seconds she drew upon yet more mana and wolves appeared to either side of her and a small host of goblins materialized in the middle of the arena. All rushed toward him.
An icy shadow filled the middle of the arena and there was a great rushing of air and a loud trumpeting.
A great mammoth stood in the middle of the fray, its feet trampling down the goblins. The wolves paused in their headlong rush toward Garth, recoiling and cringing against the side walls of the arena as the mammoth thundered, its heavy trunk flaying about to snatch up the last of the goblins.
There was another swirling cloud and out of it hundreds of rats emerged. Their hot red eyes gleaming with hunger, they swarmed toward the mammoth, leaping upon its legs, sinking their yellow razor teeth into it. More and yet more clawed their way up its sides, clinging to its heavy coat and burrowing in.
The great beast shrieked in pain, and Garth, mercifully, raised his hand and the creature disappeared. The rats that were clinging to it tumbled to the ground, dazed. And then they started to look around for something else. As if driven by a single hand they charged toward Garth and then as suddenly stopped. They turned and started back toward the woman and then paused, slowly turning back toward Garth.
The two wrestled, laying spell upon spell to control the rats, who weaved back and forth, while the wolves cowered and stayed out of the fight. First one way, and then the other, the rats were driven back and forth. Some of them started to collapse, twisting and kicking from the stress of the powers swirling around them.
The struggle continued for long minutes so that the arena pulsed and glowed from the power, neither fighter pulling in other spells, both attempting to control the rats as a singular demonstration of their ultimate power over the other. A hazy glow started to build up around the two, flickering with flashes of light, becoming so bright that those who sat nearest to them had to turn their heads away.
Suddenly there was an audible pop, not quite an explosion but rather a caving in. The rats turned and swarmed straight at Garth.
He lowered his head and stepped back into the neutral square. Still the rats came toward him and he stood with arms at his side. Even as the first of the rats started to leap toward his throat, the woman raised her hand and they disappeared. A loud cheer went up from the assembly.
Garth stepped back into the arena and bowed low at the waist. The circle master stepped back into the fighting area.
“Win to Varena of Fentesk.”
Again there was loud cheering and Garth straightened as she approached him.
“Good fight,” she said quietly.
“Good fight.”
Garth started toward the exit, ignoring the crowd of Fentesk fighters that pushed around him, laughing, going up to Varena. Hammen stood to one side.
“So how much did we lose?”
Hammen smiled.
“Nothing?”
“If you beat her, I really don’t think you would have gotten out of here alive and that would have included me. She was obviously a favorite and if she had not intervened, you would have had to fight them all over that man you killed the other night.”
Garth looked over at Hammen and said nothing as they left the arena.
A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he turned back to look.
“Good fight, One-eye.”
“You’re an excellent challenge.”
“We need to soak; come with me,” she invited, pointing toward a narrow flight of stairs. He followed her down, the air becoming damp and hot. They stepped into a small, dimly lit room filled with steam. The room was lined with alcoves; inside of each of them was a hot bubbling pool. Varena looked over at Hammen and stared at him pointedly.
“Hammen, either it’s in the pool or take a walk,” Garth announced.
“I’ll walk,” Hammen said, a bit of a leer lighting his features and he disappeared back up the stairs.
“He really does stink, you know.”
“It’s his way.”
“And you don’t smell so good yourself.”
“I had a little adventure last night and haven’t had a chance to completely wash off.”
Varena casually untied the cincher around her waist and pulled her tunic off over her shoulders. Garth found it difficult to ignore what he was seeing. He had assumed her to be almost boyish in figure, but realized now that the tunic had been deceiving. Next she stepped out of her trousers and loincloth as if he wasn’t even present and, folding her clothes up, she placed them on a stone bench, though she made a point of taking her satchel with her as she walked into one of the alcoves. Stepping down into the circular pool, she stretched out and floated, sighing with contentment, resting her satchel on the edge of the pool.
Garth hesitated for a moment, then undressed and, like her, took his satchel with him. He then walked through the swirling steam and into her alcove.
“Am I invited?”
She sat up and nodded.
“Just pull the curtain shut.”
Doing as ordered, he stepped down into the pool and stretched out beside her. Hot bubbles swirled up around him, smelling slightly of sulfur, and he let them massage the tension out of his muscles.
“That fight was a sham,” she finally said.
He looked over at her for the first time. She was sitting up on a bench in the water so that her body was fully exposed from the waist up.
He sat across from her.
“What makes you think that?”