Their hair, coated with some kind of pale clay, rose in wild ridges and matted clumps above the bone masks that concealed their faces. Their weapons were glaives-wide, sharp blades pointed like a spear, edged like an axe, and set on long, curved poles.
They were mounted on the great lizards of the Talenta Plains, all of the creatures decorated like their riders so that it was difficult to tell where the shimmering colors of scales ended and vibrant paint began. Four of the halfling hunters rode lizards as tall as a hobgoblin that strode upright on their hind legs, powerful heads balanced by a thick tail. The beasts’ forelegs were small and grasping, their jaws terrifying, but their hind legs were the danger. They were massively muscular and the great toe of each foot carried a heavy claw as sharp as a sickle. The lizards prowled out into the arena, heads darting and nostrils flaring.
The fifth lizard came out more slowly. It was big, nearly twice the height of a hobgoblin in the length of its body alone, and easily twice that again from the small hook-beaked head on its lowslung neck to the tip of its long, powerful tail. A double row of bony plates rose from its back, but the beast had weapons as well as armor: the massive tail ended in a cluster of four long bony spikes. Its rider, nestled between the plates over its shoulders, used a small hook on the butt of his glaive’s shaft to prod the giant lizard just behind its skull. The creature raised its head as far as its neck would allow and let out a rumbling honk. The other four lizards answered with whistling shrieks imitated by their riders.
“What are they?” Ashi asked in awe.
“Clawfoots and a daggertail,” said Ekhaas. “Halflings may not put a lot of imagination into naming things, but they go straight for the important details.”
“They look hungry!”
“They likely are-the clawfoots at least. The daggertail eats plants.”
“Khyberit ghentis.” Ashi shook her head. “Keraal can’t fight all of them, can he?”
Down on the arena floor, the lone warrior seemed to be thinking the same thing. Ears flat back against his head, he watched the halflings and their mounts just as they watched him. The announcer gave the audience a moment longer to drink in the sight of the magnificent lizards, then shouted through his speaking trumpet, “For the honor of Lhesh Haruuc Shaarat’kor and the glory of Lhesh Tariic-begin!”
Keraal let his chain slip down his arms, then whirled it up into a shield of spinning, flashing metal. The clawfoot riders urged their mounts forward with kicks and piercing whistles. They spread out to the sides of the arena as the daggertail lumbered to take a position closer to the center. Its rider prodded at it with his long goad, turning it around so the powerful spiked tail could be brought into play. It looked nervous to Ekhaas. All of the lizards did, in fact. One clawfoot rider even seemed to be struggling with his beast. Keraal shifted a few paces to the left, then back again as if gauging the reactions of his opponents.
Then he moved, sprinting at the nearest clawfoot on his right. The rider whooped and the clawfoot surged into a long leap, thick leg muscles bunching and releasing to send it high. The crowd in the arena gasped in unison and even Keraal looked startled. The lizard’s terrible claws slashed down, but Keraal dived to the ground, throwing himself away in a spray of bloody sand. The clawfoot missed him, instead landing in a heavy crouch. Another clawfoot leaped, forcing Keraal to scramble across the sand on all fours with his chain dragging behind him. The halfling on the daggertail laughed wildly and his mount’s tail slapped the ground-nowhere near Keraal but enough to intimidate even Ekhaas. They were toying with him, she realized, keeping him off-balance and weak. The other pair of clawfoots stalked closer. The first halfling whooped again and his clawfoot leaped Keraal flung himself aside once more, but this time as he rolled, he whipped out one end of his chain so that it wrapped around the clawfoot’s leg. In the same moment that the lizard landed, Keraal came up to his knees and jerked back hard on the chain. Pulled off balance, the lizard bleated like a sheep and smashed forward. Its rider swayed in the saddle, momentarily stunned-long enough for Keraal to free his chain with a flick of his wrist, turn, and send the chain arcing at another rider. Halfling and lizard both ducked instinctively, but neither was Keraal’s target. His chain tangled around the shaft of the halfling’s glaive and Keraal yanked it out of his hand. Another fast tumble across the sand and Keraal rose with the weapon in his grasp.
The crowd howled in approval. With a flip and a twist, Keraal wrapped the chain around his torso and gripped the glaive-sized for a halfling but still useable by a hobgoblin-with both hands. Three of the four clawfoot riders were circling him now. It was impossible for Ekhaas to see their expressions behind the bone masks, but they no longer seemed interested in toying with Keraal. The hobgoblin had landed the first blow-the downed clawfoot seemed reluctant to get up in spite of the cajoling and curses of its rider.
Then the three circling clawfoots broke and moved back. Those in the stands saw what was coming and their reaction may well have saved Keraal, who turned and lurched to one side as the daggertail’s spikes came swinging at him. He didn’t quite manage to get out of the way. The point of one spike gashed his chest.
But it also caught in the chain wrapped around him and instead of being thrown back to where the clawfoots waited, he was dragged along with the tail. As the tail curved back, he flew free, rolling across the sand and ending up near the daggertail’s head. The lizard’s rider stared at him for an instant, then started to goad his mount into a turn, heavy forelegs smashing into the ground, hooked beak snapping, small eyes wild.
“Plant-eaters?” said Ashi.
“Just the daggertail,” said Ekhaas. She pointed. “Look there!”
The rider of the fallen clawfoot had his mount up again. The creature’s pointed tongue licked at a muzzle covered in sand and the clawfoot might even have pressed itself back to the arena floor if the halfling hadn’t vaulted into the saddle and hauled back on the reins that guided it. The lizard shrieked in protest.
“What’s it doing?” Ashi asked, then her eyes widened as she realized what Ekhaas already had. “The blood out of the sand!”
“Five days’ worth of blood from the games,” said Ekhaas. To a hungry predator, the smell in the arena must have been intoxicating. No wonder the clawfoots seemed hard to control-and no wonder the daggertail seemed skittish and wild. To a plant-eater, the arena would stink only of death and danger.
Keraal must have realized it too. As the daggertail’s head and forelegs came closer, he pushed himself to his feet and ran-not away from the lizard but at it. The halfling hunter saw him and shifted his grip on his glaive, abandoning efforts to goad his mount in order to defend himself. Sticking between the daggertail’s double row of plates, he darted back along its spine, trying to keep pace with Keraal.
The hobgoblin was quicker, though. With a shout, he leaped high and thrust the head of his stolen glaive into the daggertail’s side with all of his weight and strength behind it.
The great lizard let out a terrible honking screech and reared up on its hind legs. The halfling on its back, trying to stab down between the plates at Keraal, had to drop his weapon and hang onto one of the plates with both hands. Keraal just clung to the shaft of his glaive as his weight dragged the sharp blade inexorably through the creature’s flesh. Blood spurted out, spraying him. The daggertail crashed back to all four legs. Its head twisted around to try and bite at the source of its agony and its spiked tail thrashed wildly, but Keraal had chosen well: neither neck nor tail were flexible enough to reach him where he clung. He kept digging with the glaive, forcing the wound deeper and wider.
The slapping tail kept the clawfoot riders back, too. The half-ling on the daggertail whistled and waved, gesturing for one of them to throw him a glaive, but the other riders were busy trying to control their hungry clawfoots as they caught the scent of fresh blood-and a moment later, the daggertail decided to act on its own. Turning suddenly, it made a lumbering run for the nearest wall of the arena. Spectators sitting in the lower rows fled for higher elevation, even though the spiked tail couldn’t have done more than splinter the wall below them. The clawfoot riders scattered. Keraal seemed to reach into the wound before he flung himself away from the beast, leaving the glaive behind.
The daggertail’s rider wasn’t fast enough. Yelling at the beast as if he could calm it by voice alone, he hung onto one of the plates along its back right up until the moaning daggertail slammed its side against the wall and began to rub like a cow against a tree. The impact jarred the halfling loose. He screamed as he lost his grip and went sliding down between the great lizard and the wall.
The audience winced and groaned with one voice.
Keraal had his chain free again. He let it swing loose in one hand as he stalked closer to the nearest clawfoot, a blue-streaked monster somewhat larger than the others. The halflings were wary now. The others circled as the hobgoblin warrior’s target backed his mount away-but Keraal’s eyes were on the lizard, not the halfling. He stretched out his free hand, in it a big chunk of bloody flesh torn from the body of the daggertail.
The blue-streaked clawfoot cocked its head like some enormous bird.
