Broken Arrow

The champion swallowed. The roles had suddenly been reversed, and Glazkov now found himself being towered over.

It was small comfort, but he was tossed a mace as spiky as his hair, while his opponent had to make do with receiving a length of chain. As Glazkov hunched down, circling the larger man and trying to weigh up his options, the olive-skinned colossus moved to follow him, obviously still having trouble with one leg… or was it his foot? Yes, The Tsar noted that he wasn't putting as much weight on one side, as if an old injury was bothering him.

Glazkov struck and the blow glanced off the bigger man's forearm, cutting him, but not badly. At the same time, the bigger man unfurled his chain, throwing it out like a whip and snaking it around Glazkov's neck. Tugging, he yanked the champion towards him, then punched him hard in the face.

Glazkov unfurled along the chain, spinning away. His legs gave out. He ended up on the floor again with a thud, shaking his head.

The giant, seemingly in no rush at all, gave Glazkov time to recover and get to his feet as he wrapped the chain around his fist. This time when Glazkov took a swing with the mace, the newcomer batted it out of his hand, then punched the champion again, using the chain as a knuckle duster. Teeth and blood flew from Glazkov's mouth, as his head rocked to one side. Regardless of the fact it was their hero who was getting thrashed out there, the crowd responded well, cheering louder than ever.

'Who is this?' Bohuslav muttered to himself, but loudly enough for The Tsar to hear.

Glazkov was crawling around, spitting out more blood and teeth. When he looked up, his jaw was a mess. But he wasn't defeated just yet. Someone, probably one of The Tsar's guards, threw him a metal fighting pike.

He used this to help himself up, then turned it on his enemy, running at him — trying to skewer him on the end. In spite of his bad foot, the large man evaded the ungainly attack, whipping out the chain and lashing Glazkov across the back of the neck.

'Mudak!' growled the spiky-haired Russian. Livid, he tried again, but the giant used his chain to snag the pike, spoiling Glazkov's aim. Try as he might, the champion just wasn't strong enough to bring the weapon back towards his target. Then suddenly it was snatched from his grasp.

Before Glazkov could do anything, the pike had been turned on him and thrust through the Russian's shoulder until it came out the other side. Then, holding onto the pike, the man brought up a boot and kicked Glazkov off. He staggered, not quite grasping what had just happened. Then the pain registered and he howled.

The giant didn't give him long for self pity. Hefting the pike like a staff, the man struck Glazkov first in the stomach, then under his chin; with such force that Glazkov was lifted into the air, before landing heavily on the floor.

Glazkov didn't have a clue what was coming next — and that was probably for the best. The stranger bent and aimed the pike at Glazkov's head, forcing it in just behind the right temple. With his considerable bulk behind the strike, the man was able to push the sharpened end right through Glazkov's skull. Like the last time, the giant kicked Glazkov off the spear and the former champion's now lifeless body hit the ground.

The audience was speechless. They'd seen Glazkov in some challenging fights but never known him get more than a few cuts or bruises. What were they supposed to do now? They couldn't chant this new champion's name, because they didn't know it. Besides, he didn't look like the kind of man you applauded. More like trembled before.

The Tsar was equally shocked, not least when the bear of a man holding the pike and chain looked up and pointed at him. Bohuslav immediately nodded to the guards at the ring, who entered, raising their AK-47's and demanding that he put down his weapons.

'Call them off!' shouted the stranger in perfect Russian. His voice was deep, his words to the point. When the men remained where they were, and then actually moved closer, the man cocked his head as if to say, That was a big mistake.

Seconds later, the chain was unfurled and the pike was flicked to the side. The Kalashnikovs all fired at the same time, but were quickly knocked out of the guards' hands, completely missing the man in the middle. Having disarmed them, the giant set to work on the men themselves, taking out the closest by simply charging into them like a juggernaut — or flinging the chain at their faces. The others he dispatched with a series of kicks and blows with the pike.

Then, limping towards the edge of the ring, he used that weapon like a pole-vaulter to clear the cordon. At the same time Bohuslav was ordering the guards with him to open fire into the ring. By the time they'd got their act together, the giant was already part of the crowd, crouching, moving from side to side so they couldn't easily track him.

'There!' shouted Bohuslav when he saw the tip of the pike above the mass of heads. The guards looked at each other, then at The Tsar, obviously troubled about firing into the throng. The Tsar nodded firmly and they did just that, picking off the people around the troublemaker, but not touching him. It only made the confusion worse. Those who remained panicked, slamming into each other, pushing each other out of the way. At one stage, when the giant saw he was close to being shot, he grabbed a woman and pulled her in front of him.

'Enough!' shouted The Tsar. This was only losing him subjects; it was obvious this had to be handled at closer range. 'Xue, Ying.' His bodyguards nodded, and ran to the viewing rail, leaping over it, into the crowd. Pockets of clear floor were opening up and in one to their left rose the olive-skinned man.

The twins drew their Hook Swords, circling him. He grimaced.

They attacked in a flurry of gleaming metal — and he blocked each and every swipe with the pike. The Tsar had never seen anything like it, never seen fighters move so fast; the giant's parries causing the girls to step up their game considerably. The space cleared much quicker and, were it not for the twins, The Tsar might have ordered his guards to start shooting again.

Swish, clack! Swish, clack! The three of them fought all the way to the base of the viewing platform. The Tsar got up and walked towards the rail, ignoring Bohuslav's gestures to remain out of harm's way.

He saw Xue duck as a pike blow whipped over her head; Ying almost ended up with the sharp end in her thigh. As confident as he was in them, he could also see that this interloper was highly trained. And people this skilled always wanted something… But what? Did he want The Tsar dead?

The giant took his eyes off the twins long enough to find his mark standing at the rail. 'Call… them… off,' he said, still blocking attacks, then added, 'I would speak with you.'

The Tsar rubbed his chin, still unsure.

Snarling, the giant elbowed one of the twins out of the way, kicked back the other — and lifted his pike like a javelin, aiming at The Tsar. Bohuslav's sickle was already out and he was about to throw it when The Tsar held up his hand.

'Wait… Wait!' Both men halted, staring into each other's eyes. The twins were about to attack again, but The Tsar ordered them to stand down. 'Bohuslav, put that away. You men, lower your guns.'

When the attacker saw this, he lowered the pike, placing it by his side — though his body was still tense, ready for any surprises. 'I came here seeking an audience,' he said in those clipped tones.

'You… you came here? You were brought here.'

'I let them bring me.'

Bohuslav's eyes narrowed.

The Tsar nodded; it did seem unlikely that he would have been captured on the streets if he hadn't wanted to be. 'Who are you?'

'I am Tanek.'

That name was familiar, but the Tsar couldn't remember why. It would no doubt come to him, but in the meantime he asked: 'What do you want?'

'As I said, I would speak with you.'

The Tsar frowned. 'What about? What is so important that you would risk your life like this?'

The olive-skinned man brushed the long, greasy hair out of his eyes and said: 'I have a proposition for you.'