“He might try to take you physically,” Hammen whispered. “Watch out for his blade. Look at his left boot; there’s another dagger tucked in there for throwing. Poisoned most likely.”
The final trumpet sounded and the circle master for Garth’s fight stepped into the center and then looked over at Garth.
“How do you declare this fight?”
“Spell match,” Garth said quietly.
The circle master looked back over at the captain.
“How do you declare this fight?”
“To the death.”
The circle master turned and went over to the pole at the edge of the circle.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Hammen shouted.
The circle master, ignoring Hammen, hoisted the red flag of a death match.
“This is a fix!” Hammen shouted, turning to look back at the arena stands, his words drowned out by the eruption of screaming from half a million throats.
Hammen looked back at Garth.
“If I lose, get out of here quick,” Garth said quietly, and then he lowered his head and closed his eyes.
“Fight!”
Garth opened his eyes and stepped into the circle. Concentrating, he started to pull upon the power of his mana, upon which would be built the power of his spells. Instantly he felt a block. The captain had already drawn upon his own mana and cast a blocking spell, draining Garth’s power away. Garth felt a momentary flicker of fear. The man was powerful, extremely powerful, and skillful in his tactics.
Smoke swirled up in the center of the circle and half a dozen decaying corpses stepped out of the cloud, the stench of their corruption washing over Garth. He stepped back, still struggling to bring forth his mana as the first corpse staggered up, pale bone showing through the rotting phosphorescence of its face. Garth struggled to suppress a gag, his concentration broken as he had to dodge out of the dead man’s grasp. Another one caught him on the shoulder, icy fingers digging into flesh and wrestling to draw away the spirit of life. Garth tore free and quickly moved away, feeling his strength draining away. In the center of the circle more forms appeared, plague rats, their green eyes glinting evilly. The rats charged. Garth danced about, crushing several under his boot but two managed to leap upon his legs, sinking their teeth in, their poison seeping into his blood. Staggering, he kicked them off.
At last Garth was able to raise his hand, the mana of the forest drawn into his control at last. A dark green fog swirled around him, blinding the undead. For a brief moment the attack was thrown off and he raised his hands, a cool stream of water cascading down from above, washing over his body, drawing out the poison.
His draw of mana continued to strengthen and yet he could sense that his opponent’s was increasing as well. The fog started to disperse and Garth extended his hands outward and drew an image in the air. A second later there was a burst of light and a form coalesced, the mob roaring its approval at the appearance of a white knight mounted upon a rearing charger. The knight, swinging a mace, trampled down the corpses that started to close in again on Garth and then turned to charge the captain. The knight’s attack slowed and then came to a stop as if he were trapped in a dark web. The horse tried to rear up, neighing in pain, and then rolled over, crushing the knight beneath him. With his opponent diverted by the attack of the knight, Garth was freed to counter the plague rats which still pursued him, by unleashing a swarm of stinging hornets that harried and tormented the rats, stringing with such viciousness that the rats, one after another, curled up and died.
Another strike lashed over Garth and he felt his mana withering away, his power draining down. His opponent, Garth realized, held powers equal to that of a House Master, or even a Grand Master, and as the thought raced through him, he looked at his opponent and saw the man’s mocking gaze, as if his opponent were simply playing with him and held supreme confidence in the final outcome.
Garth waved his hands in a circle and managed to erect a circle of protection from his opponent’s onslaughts. Then he doubled the circle. Though he was doing no damage to his foe, at least his attacker was no longer damaging him. More undead appeared, but were repulsed by the screen. There was another strike toward his mana, but it was stopped as well. The captain now turned his attention toward the hornets, which were swarming toward him, and in an instant they fell to the ground, their power to fly drained away. Writhing about, they curled up and died.
For a moment there was no attack from either side. Garth spared a quick look around and saw that nearly all the other combats were finished. The attention of the mob was entirely focused on the death struggle in the middle of the arena. In the center of the circle a darkness appeared and started to drift toward Garth, a frozen shade of terror. He felt his outer circle of protection fall beneath the attack. Garth raised his hands and an instant later a stand of trees appeared to encircle him. He stepped out of the circle of protection and then moved like a shadow himself, drifting silently. The frozen shade floated past him, looking, probing. Garth extended the line of trees so that they filled his half of the circle. He felt his power growing and, with a snap of his arm, he pointed behind the frozen shade. One of the trees came to life and grabbed hold of the shade with branchy arms, tearing it apart.
The mob, unable to see what was happening, cheered with a wild frenzy so that the sound of the struggle was drowned out. Moving stealthily, Garth darted to the edge of the forest he had created. His opponent was moving to the edge of the woods, hands raised. Bolts of lightning came down out of the sky, blasting the forest with blow after blow. Garth motioned toward the captain and the tree-walker crashed out of the woods. Reaching down, it snatched at the captain, lifting him up into the air. A wild frenzy of cheers erupted as the fight again became visible. The captain, writhing in pain, pointed both hands at the tree-creature’s face; the creature staggered backward, fire burning its eyes. Howling with pain, the creature staggered around in a circle, the mob laughing at its antics.
Garth raised his hand and the creature disappeared, its torment ended. At the same instant he raced up to the captain, lashing out with his feet, kicking to break the man’s knee. The captain dodged the blow, tripping Garth to the ground. Laughing sardonically he lashed out in turn, kicking Garth’s side so that the sound of ribs cracking could be heard. Garth rolled away, raising his hands. Tiny forms appeared, looking almost comical, for they were nothing more than woodland fairies. They buzzed about on silver wings and then closed in. They lunged at the captain’s eyes, with tiny spears causing him to howl with pain and back away. Behind Garth the forest he had created was in flames, thick coils of dark smoke soaring into the heavens, the fire crackling and hissing.
Garth, gasping for breath and unable to take the time to heal himself, conjured yet again, sending a bear into the melee. The bear was blocked by Ironclaw Orcs, who hacked at it with heavy scimitars, the bear in turn ripping them apart. From overhead a rain of stones started to fall, smashing into what was left of the forest. Garth could feel his power draining away.
He erected yet another circle of protection to buy time in order to replace the mana his opponent had rendered useless.
The captain stood on the other side of the circle, streams of blood coursing down his face and arms from the attack of the fairies, who now lay scattered about. He wiped the blood from his eyes, his features contorted with rage. Garth reached outward, probing into the man’s thoughts in a bid to ascertain what he might attempt next. Garth smiled and, with a raised hand, sent another swarm of fairies in.