Cory led the way to the table where his parents were sitting, eating steaming noodles from disposable plastic bowls and talking to Rohn Toro—the man Anden had begun to think of as the Horn of Southtrap—and two others that Anden did not know, but suspected must also be Green Bones. Cory said, “Well, relayball season’s over; we finally got rained off the field and decided to come here. I brought my crumbs.” He smiled and shook hands with the other men around the table, who clapped the Pillar’s son on the back affectionately, asking him whether he was excited about going to law school.
Dauk Losun beamed when he saw Anden standing behind Cory and motioned him over. “My young friend from Janloon! You’ve never come to the grudge hall before, have you?”
Anden shook his head. A commotion rose up as the next cockfight got off to a rousing start. The Pillar raised his voice to be heard. “Now that we know you, you’re welcome anytime. We keep some of the old ways from the island, you’ll see. Some of it is serious, but most is in good fun.”
Rohn Toro said, “Everything is sorted out over that little incident, by the way. Just so you know not to worry.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Rohn-jen,” Anden said, relieved. “I never wanted to cause trouble for anyone.”
“From what I hear, you’re a great help to the Hians, more so than their own sons, who are too busy to visit.” Dauk Sana clucked her disapproval, then patted Anden on the arm. “Have you eaten? You absolutely must try the noodles Mrs. Joek makes.”
Anden and Cory rejoined Tod and Derek at their own table, then took turns going upstairs to fetch food and drinks. Anden’s wet clothes were soon dry; the basement was warm, and as more people arrived and filled the space, it grew somewhat uncomfortably stuffy, yet no one seemed to mind. The cockfighting appeared to be the main attraction, but people were also playing cards, drinking, and socializing. Anden overheard several nearby conversations heatedly discussing Espenia’s involvement in the Oortokon War. Two young women sidled over to their table, looking sly. “Hey, Cory.” One of them pouted. “Why don’t I ever see you anymore?”
“Aw, Tami, you’re seeing me now, aren’t you?” Cory slapped her ass and pulled her into his lap. She gave a squeal of mock indignation and draped her arms over his shoulders.
Anden looked away uncomfortably. He slurped another mouthful from his steaming bowl of noodles, which were indeed well worth Dauk Sana’s recommendation, and turned to Tod. “I didn’t know this place existed. Is it always like this?”
“No, only on certain evenings.” Tod glanced at Cory, deferring the explanation to him, but the Pillar’s son seemed distracted, so Tod turned back to Anden and said, “When it’s not a grudge hall, it’s a training gym.”
Anden looked around and saw the folded blue gym mats leaning against the wall in one corner, the stacked wooden blocks and closed equipment bins. “A gym for Green Bones,” he said.
The chatter in the hall abruptly died away. The girl hopped reluctantly out of Cory’s lap and hurried back with her friend to their own table. A few oblivious teens in one corner of the hall continued chatting, but several nearby adults shushed them so remonstratively that they fell silent. Anden turned around on his stool to see that the latest cockfight had ended, and now two men were stepping over the blue ropes. They took off their boots, then their shirts, and handed them to friends standing on the other side of the cordon before facing each other.
It was easy to hear the scrape of chair legs as Dauk Losun pushed his seat back. There seemed to be nothing to distinguish the Pillar from those around him—his seat in the room was not better than anyone else’s; he wore a red sweater vest and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin as he stood up—yet no one else spoke a word as Dauk cleared his throat and said, “Orim Rudocun, you’ve been offered a clean blade by Yoro Janshogon. Do you accept?”
“Yes,” said one of the men, who was of slightly heavier build than the other. Neither man actually carried a blade. They touched their clasped hands to their foreheads in brief salute but did not pause to offer up any prayers to the gods.
The challenger, Yoro, launched himself at the other man with an angry shout. It was over quickly. Yoro drove his shoulder into Orim’s chest. They staggered together into the blue ropes, bringing the cordon down with them as Yoro dragged his opponent to the ground by the neck. They rolled about in a tangle for a minute. Orim flailed and caught Yoro a blow across the face, but the slighter man ended up on top and clamped his hands around his rival’s throat. Snarling, he shook the other man—the back of Orim’s head smacked against the concrete floor with a sound that made everyone in the hall flinch—then he jammed crossed forearms against Orim’s windpipe, leaned his body weight forward, and began to press with all his might. Orim sputtered and kicked and clawed at Yoro’s arms. No one in the hall made a move. A few worried murmurs began to rise.
Seconds passed; Orim’s face turned purple. Dauk Losunyin stood up again and said, in a stern and concerned voice, “Mr. Orim, do you yield? Raise your hands if you do.”
For a moment, Anden thought that Orim would refuse and consent to be choked to death. Then, reluctantly, he opened his hands in a gesture of submission. Yoro spat in disdain, then released him, stood up, and strode away to gather his shirt and boots, staunching his own bleeding mouth with the back of his hand. Orim lay on the ground gasping. Two of his friends lifted him to a sitting position and, taking him under the arms, helped him out of the hall.
Someone righted the rope cordon. The Pillar sat back down. Anden caught a glimpse of Dauk; he looked relieved as he leaned over to say something to Rohn Toro. People turned back to their tables and conversation returned to the hall.
“If you can believe it, Orim and Yoro used to be good friends,” said Derek.
“Business partnership gone bad,” Cory explained, in response to Anden’s questioning look. “Orim says Yoro cheated him out of ten thousand thalirs. Yoro says he did all the work while Orim was doing the deal with Yoro’s girlfriend behind his back.” Cory unwrapped a sour sweet and popped it into his mouth. He offered another to Anden, who shook his head—he couldn’t understand why anyone liked the taste of those things. “My da was worried about this duel going all the way,” Cory said, in a lowered voice. “It doesn’t happen often, only once in while over really serious things, but it’s a good thing Orim yielded. No one wants the police to come snooping.”
Anden felt stunned by what he’d seen. Not by the duel itself, despite all the odd differences in custom, but ever since his encounter in the park with the crewboy Carson Sunter, he’d been careful to try and learn all the rules in Espenia. “I thought dueling was illegal,” he said.
“Crumb, everything in Espenia is illegal.” Derek laughed. “Even cockfighting.”
Cory patted Anden’s arm in a reassuring manner that surprised Anden and made his face warm a little. “Naw, it’s only that the law is complicated. And more often than not, negotiable.”
“True words from an aspiring lawyer,” Derek said.
“Shun Todorho!” came a shout from the center of the room, where a young man now stood in the place where the clean-bladed duel had happened minutes earlier. “Tod, where are you?” He pointed through the crowd at Anden’s table, then crossed his arms in a posture of mock offense. “I’ve been hearing some talk that your Deflection is better than my Lightness. Care to test that bit of bullshit?”
A round of foot-stomping applause ran through the grudge hall. Cory smacked Tod on the back encouragingly and shouted back at the other man, “He’s only had two drinks, Sammy, you sure you don’t want to wait?” Shun Todo raised his glass and drained the rest of it dramatically, then slammed it down on the table and rose with his hands held up in a show of acquiescence to the crowd’s demands. “Etto Samishun,” Tod growled. “For your arrogance, I offer you… an ass kicking.” More foot stomping and cheers as Tod climbed over the blue rope. In contrast to the sense of deathly seriousness of the preceding duel, the mood in the grudge hall was now jovial; everyone could tell that this contest was benign, the typical sort of social challenge that Kekonese threw down all the time.