commanding legions. How could Gerard not want to seek out his destiny with the beautiful swordswoman Shaella? As with his own prophetic glimpses, he was sure that there were a lot of truths to what had been predicted for Gerard. Some were obvious. He had already begun using the ring to get his way with the people around him, and he was already considering a journey to a black formation that supposedly resembled a fang.
“Do you want to go with me to the Brawl?” Hyden asked, even though the idea of watching two men beat the hell out of each other somehow seemed a little less exciting after hearing the old woman’s grand prophecies.
To Hyden’s surprise, Gerard lit up at the suggestion.
“Yes! Let’s go. Bludgeon, the Seaward Monster, is in the group going with Shaella to the marshes!”
Gerard had instantly changed back into the little brother Hyden loved so much. His excitement was contagious, and he picked up the pace as he spoke.
“He is huge Hyden! His arms are as big as your waist, and his legs are like tree trunks. He’s covered in tattoos, like that fire breathing guy we saw earlier, but without all the red paint.”
“Lord Gregory, the Westland Lion, is pretty big himself,” Hyden said. He had watched the Lion Lord destroy the Valleyan Stallion a few years ago. Bludgeon would have to be good to win against him.
“My money is all on Bludgeon,” Gerard said, with a devilish grin on his face. “I already wagered most of my profit on him, all but a few golden lions.”
“I hope he wins,” Hyden said, wondering why his brother would do such a thing with so much money.
Chapter 11
Every year, the Brawl drew a massive crowd, and this year was no exception. The fighting grounds, where the combatants would actually battle, was a circle about thirty feet across. Its boundaries were marked with a rope line, and the area was illuminated from overhead by dozens of lanterns dangling from poles planted into the ground. It was the largest open space the eye could see. Men crowded its edges, buying and selling betting tickets, gold for the Western Lion Lord, and blue for the Seaward Monster. A dozen or more of Wildermont’s most intimidating Redwolf guards worked the perimeter of the fighting circle, trying to keep order where there was none. They were extremely busy. The fight was scheduled to start soon, and everyone was jostling and screaming, trying to get a last minute wager put in.
A slight, natural hill rose up and away from the ring, thus creating a sort of riser for some of the spectators. Some enterprising young men had also built wooden scaffold stands around the rest of the area. They offered tiered seats above the heads of the rest of the crowd. Seats on these platforms sold for three times the cost of a regular spot. It was from one of these structures that Hyden and Gerard were looking down at the fighting circle. The view they had was one of the best available. Hyden had paid the handsome bit of coin to treat his brother to this, and both were extremely excited and pleased with their vantage point.
All thoughts of the future and the past were lost for the moment. Hyden had all but forgotten his archery competition, and Gerard was thinking about the fight, instead of how he would explain to his father that he wasn’t going back to the clan’s village when the festival was over. Now, it was time for the Brawl.
Trumpets were sounding in the distance, and there was a snakelike procession of torch bearers that were weaving their way through the darkened crowd towards the lighted ring. As the parade grew closer, it became clear that it was the Westland Lord and his entourage. The banner they were flying was raised so much higher than the torches they carried, that just a hint of its golden field flashed here and there. Every now and again, the triangular pennant would catch the light just right, to reveal the reared and roaring lion silhouetted on it. Men cheered, and reached out to pat the Westland Lord on his huge back as he passed. Some booed and heckled, and some raised their fists and shouted encouragement. By the time he reached the roped fighting circle, a chant was resounding through the crowd, “LI-ON LORD! LI-ON LORD! LI-ON LORD!” The sound, and intensity of the voices, increased tenfold when the banner man ran around the lighted circle, waving the Westland banner back and forth crazily.
It became obvious to the boys that the amount people from the huge Kingdom of Westland far outnumbered those from the smaller, eastern kingdoms. The boys didn’t know it, but Westland by itself, was nearly as big as all five of the eastern kingdoms combined. Hyden had already decided that he would buy a map of the realm later. He had seen a map maker hawking maps of the recognized kingdoms while he had been searching for Gerard earlier on the Ways. He wanted to have some idea where Gerard was going, and where Shaella’s home, the Kingdom of Dakahn, was. He knew both places were far to the south, but that wasn’t enough information to satisfy his curiosity. He hoped that someday Berda would show him on the map where all the places she’d told him about were.
A loud, groaning crack resounded through the night, silencing all that heard it in an instant. A good portion of the crowd were still obliviously chanting, but those closer to the brightly lit fighting ring, were hushed, and staring at one of the scaffold stands with wide eyes and open mouths. Another crack, followed by a long series of crunching noises quieted the rest of the crowd. Fingers pointed at the particular bleacher as it lurched a few degrees to the side, and then stopped. Screams filled the night when the bleacher fell a little bit farther. The people sitting on it began scrambling down in a mad rush. Some leapt into the throng of people below, some clung to the splintering wood with all they had. It was total chaos. Both Hyden and Gerard watched the whole scene in utter disbelief. More than once, Hyden shook himself in place to check the sturdiness of the structure they were sitting on. It felt good and rigid, unlike the one they were watching. Instead of leaning further over to the side, the whole structure suddenly tumbled straight down upon itself. The massive crowd all watched the madness in stunned silence. A handful of people got caught under the platform when it fell. Dozens were injured, and a few were even killed.
Again, Hyden tried to rock the scaffolding that they were sitting on. It was sturdy as far as he could tell. Gerard hit him in the arm to get his attention.
“Look!”
A great gout of fire jetted up into the sky in the distance, and suddenly the sound of drums filled the silence. It was a feverish beat, deep and solid, and it was being pounded out over the gasps and screams of the crowd. The fallen structure, and the injured people beneath it, was seemingly forgotten. The Seaward Monster was coming to the battlegrounds.
As with Lord Gregory’s entrance, a long string of torches was weaving towards the circle, but every few moments, fire blasted skyward, lighting the huge combatant, and the four, red painted fire breathers who we’re taking turns exhaling the flames before him. In the bright explosions of light, the rectangular Seaward Kingdom banner, an orange sun rising from a blue sea, reflected clearly and proudly, and a new chant began to form to the rhythmic beat of the drummers.
“EAST-ERN BEAST! EAST-ERN BEAST! EAST-ERN BEAST!” This mantra slowly, but steadily, overtook the Lion Lord’s chant, as the other eastern kingdom folk, from Valleya, Dakahn, Wildermont, and Highwander all joined in.
The event was turning into an East versus West grudge battle, which brought the intensity level of the crowd up to a fevered pitch. The betting became furious. The eastern kingdoms, well known for their constant squabbling amongst each other over borders, trade tariffs, and river crossing rights, pushed their differences to the side for the moment to cheer on the Seaward fighter. Nearly all of the people from the eastern kingdoms wanted to see the overbearing Kingdom of Westland’s favorite fighter go down.
By the time Bludgeon stepped into the circle, the chant for him was completely drowning out the voices of the people still cheering for Lord Gregory. Two of the red and black painted fire breathers, sent up simultaneous pillars of flame for the monster to pass between as he entered the fighting circle. The crowd exploded into screams and cheers. The people that had fallen with the scaffolding were long forgotten as the two brawlers paced around the fighting circle, flexing and stretching their massive muscles.
Bludgeon was a bit larger than Lord Gregory, Hyden saw, but the Valleyan Stallion had been bigger too. Hyden had been planning to root for the Lion Lord, until he learned about Gerard’s foolish bet. If Gerard lost his wager, his entire harvest this year, and the risk of making it, would’ve been for nothing. The idea of risking that much coin on a gamble disturbed Hyden. He could see betting enough to make the fight more exciting, but the
