They paused to watch the end of the embarrassment that was Kirtar's match, then Chainer brought Kamahl to the Master of the Games. The master winked at Chainer and started giving Kamahl a hard time about letting the barbarian into the tournament. Kamahl didn't seem to notice he was being slighted. He was too busy staring at the Mirari.
The Master of the Games reminded Chainer of Roup: thick, stupid, and clumsy. He didn't know if the master's wink had been a signal of the assumed camaraderie between Cabalists, or if it meant the master was hassling Kamahl on the First's order, just as Chainer was accompanying him around the games. He didn't like it in either case. Much to Chainer's delight, Kamahl didn't like the master's attitude either. In fact, he didn't like it so much that he casually tossed what appeared to be a red-hot copper coin through a nearby wall with the force of an exploding cannonball.
Chainer laughed at the master's bewildered face as the rubble smoked and the dust settled. Kamahl smiled mischievously at him.
This, Chainer said to himself, will definitely be more fun than I thought. His excitement cooled as Kamahl advanced on him.
"Look," the barbarian said, "what do you want? I appreciate your help, but I'm busy, and I don't need a sidekick."
Chainer darkened. "Then it's just as well that you don't have one. I'm here on business."
"We don't have any business. We just met."
Chainer took a breath. "My friend, I have to admit, I don't understand the point of this any more than you do. But this is Cabal City, and things happen for a reason here. I can at least explain that."
"Okay, Cabalist. Explain."
"Do you have tribal elders up in Pardic?"
"Elders? Sure."
"And do you obey them?"
Kamahl laughed harshly. "Only when it suits us, and only when they're right." He shrugged. "Sometimes not even then."
"We revere our elders here. We've all sworn oaths to obey our superior Cabalists. And the First himself, the lord and master of the entire Cabal, wishes me to learn from you. I intend to respect his wishes."
"I don't want a student."
"And I've already got a mentor. I was hoping we could teach each other something. As if we'd been randomly assigned as pit partners." Chainer locked eyes with Kamahl. "I can help you."
Kamahl crossed his arms. "Go ahead then."
"How much are you paying for your lodgings?"
"Fifteen silver a night, but I'm only here for two nights, for the games."
"You're being robbed. There are warrior's quarters right outside the arena that only charge five. I can take you there."
Kamahl considered. "All right," he said finally. "You saved me twenty silver. Now what-"
"Eighteen," Chainer corrected. "Finder's fee is two percent."
"I knew it," Kamahl growled. "There's always an angle with you Cabalists." He turned to go.
"Do you know how to bet on yourself?" Chainer said quickly. Kamahl stopped. "Do you know who to ask politely, and who to threaten? Do you understand that the Master of the Games has put you on the slow track because of your stunt with the coin back there?"
Kamahl grunted angrily. "I don't understand half of what you just said."
Chainer smiled. "Then I've made my point."
"All that stuff," Kamahl shook his head, "betting, bragging, working the pairings. It's dreck. A warrior's skill determines victory."
"In the pits," Chainer said. "But you're in the City now. The pits are the least of your worries."
Kamahl glared at Chainer, then back at the Master of the Games' station. Slowly, he said. "All right, Chainer. What is a 'slow track?' "
"Always remind yourself that this is a business. The Master of the Games is responsible for getting the most out of the contestants. Did you bribe him at all?"
"I paid a lump of gold to get in the gates."
"That goes to the gatekeepers. Did you pay the Master of the Games anything?"
Kamahl chuckled. "Just that coin."
"Then he's got to make his money off you some other way. Most likely he'll put you in as many preliminary bouts as he can, against opponents that are no real challenge. He's got to display you, keep you working in front of the crowds, just to break even on your entrance fee. He's going to work you like an animal."
"And how," Kamahl's voice was low and menacing, "do I get on the fast track?"
"You need to pay proper respect to the master. Twenty-five silver should do it. How much tender have you got?"
"Ten gold," Kamahl said immediately.
"Sshhh!" Chainer hissed. He looked around nervously. "That was a joke. Never answer that question around here."
"What? No one is going to take my money from me without a fight. No one would dare."
"Sure they would. I know pickpockets who could steal the blade off your sword while it was still in the scabbard. If I can't teach you anything else, I can at least teach you one thing. Never announce how much you're carrying in this city." Chainer worked his fingers as he calculated. "Ten gold is about fifty silver. Twenty-five to the Master, ten for your lodgings… You won't have much left for food and frolic."
"Food, I need. Frolic, not so much."
"Okay. The first thing we do after bribing the Master," Chainer said, "is bet. We'll get the best odds on your first fight, because you're an unknown. If we get you on the fast track, the odds get even better. Have you spoken to a fixer?"
"No."
"We'll do that next. Fixers set odds, take bets, and schedule matches. They make all the arrangements for civilians like you who want to do business with the Cabal."
"I'm not a civilian, I'm a warrior."
"In this town, you're either Cabal, Order, or a civilian. Come on. I did a little checking, and there's a match that you can help me handicap. And I can help you make some money."
Kamahl finally looked interested. "What kind of match?"
"Vampire against lavamancer. You know about lavamancers?" "Yes."
"And I know about vampires. Between the two of us, we've got all the angles covered."
The stadium was divided into numerous circles, with the largest and innermost set aside for main events. It was surrounded by rows and rows of seats, and a dozen circular platforms floated silently above the arena floor, giving the important and the wealthy the best possible view. Chainer led Kamahl to the center pit and pointed out a fixer who was busily taking bets.
"He'll do. What I don't understand," Chainer said to Kamahl, "is how anyone who bets on the lavamancer thinks they're going to get their money back. The odds are good, but this is a vampire. And not just any vampire, it's a Sengir vampire." Chainer pointed to the huge, bald, manlike creature standing in the center of the pit. Its eyes were black and lifeless, and its teeth jutted out from between its lips. All of the teeth, not just the canines, were twisted and pointed like thorns, and the Sengir's filthy nails hung past its fingertips like talons. It sniffed the air like a wild dog, head darting as it oriented on each new scent, and it hissed at the crowd. Across the pit stood a dark- skinned human in tanned animal hides. His hair was loose and wild, and he carried a short sword.