Chainer began to scan the rest of the crowd. It was clear that no one would dare interfere with Fulla on her way to the First, and Chainer felt confident that the Mirari was safe for as long as Fulla held onto it. He was hoping to catch a glimpse of Kamahl, but there was no sign of the big barbarian anywhere on the docks. It wasn't until he looked higher than himself that he found Kamahl.
Like a mountain goat, Kamahl had scaled the outside of a building directly across the alley from Chainer and was watching the Mirari arrive from the roof. Chainer thought he looked too humorless. He seemed to have lost some of his natural joy for battle. Upon reflection, he couldn't blame Kamahl. They had both thought of nothing but the Mirari since it left Cabal City, but Kamahl had chased it halfway up the coast and back, and he still didn't have it. I haven't moved, Chainer thought, and in a sense it's being delivered back to me. He made a mental note to be sure and point that out to Kamahl as soon as the barbarian cheered up.
With a shock, Chainer realized that Kamahl had spotted him. Chainer raised a hand in greeting, but Kamahl looked startled. Then Chainer remembered his arm.
Chainer held the arm higher and flicked it, producing a high-pitched ding. "It's a long story," he shouted.
Kamahl shrugged. He rolled his hands, indicating Chainer should elaborate.
"You ever met a barbarian girl named Jeska?" Chainer yelled. "Braided hair, carries a baton?"
Kamahl nodded.
Chainer held up his metal arm. "So did I."
Kamahl laughed and pointed to the ground. "Tell me in the tavern," he shouted back.
Chainer shook his head. "I'm on duty," he said, and Kamahl shrugged again. He pointed down at the retreating figures of Fulla and Laquatus, and then resumed his humorless stance as his eyes bored into them.
He's here for the Mirari again, Chainer realized. Jeska said he couldn't stop talking about it, and Chainer had seen his share of addicts and obsessives in the pits. Kamahl's expression was somewhere between a man who's been wronged and a man who's dying of thirst. There was something he needed, wanted, and meant to have all at the same time.
Chainer felt a disquieting churn in his stomach. He'd wanted Kamahl to have the Mirari more than Lt. Kirtar. But he wanted the First to have it more than Kamahl. He flexed his golem hand and listened to the metal bend.
Chainer took one last look at his friend, then turned and headed down the stairs. The First probably had three plans for the Mirari ready and waiting to be implemented. It was entirely possible that neither he nor Kamahl would ever see the Mirari again, much less fight over it. It was more likely that he and Kamahl would fight together in the pits as Balthor and Jeska had. In fact, Chainer was sure the Master of the Games would sanction such a pairing if he requested it.
Chainer picked up his pace, his good mood restored. Besides, he thought, by now everyone knows what happened to Pianna and Aboshan. Kamahl and everyone else would eventually have to accept that no matter who won it, the Mirari belonged to the Cabal and would always come back to those who found it first.
CHAPTER 15
"Ladies, gentlemen, and other," the overhead voice boomed. "Welcome to the main event."
Chainer and Kamahl stood side by side, casually checking their weapons. Chainer loaded a charcoal disc into his censer and held it out to Kamahl. The barbarian snapped his fingers and produced a tiny, explosive blast of flame that engulfed the charcoal. Chainer let the disc drop into the censer, loaded the Dragon's Blood in after it, and waited for the smoke to begin wafting upward.
"Much obliged," he said. Kamahl grunted and nodded. He was not one for pre-match chatter.
"Tonight," the announcer continued, "they're red- hot and blackhearted. They're going for their twelfth consecutive team win, a Cabal City record. They are the Cabal's own Chainer and Kamahl from the Pardic Mountains!"
The cheers got louder with each match. Chainer waved his metal hand to acknowledge the crowd, but Kamahl ignored them. Now that he had spent some time with the big man in and outside of the pits, Chainer was getting a clear idea of the difference between barbarians and Cabalists. Kamahl only relaxed immediately after a match. Before and during, he hardly spoke a word and never so much as cracked a smile. Partnering with Kamahl had been hugely rewarding for Chainer, but it had also cured him of the notion that he should have been a barbarian. The mountain people were driven harder by their own nature than the average Cabalist was by the sternest overseer. Chainer mentally thanked Skellum for instilling a sense of discipline, but also the good sense to enjoy the time between fights.
The announcer continued to drone on. "Our champions have their work cut out for them tonight, however. The Master of the Games has sanctioned this match as a grudge match, one with no restrictions. The contest is over when all the contestants on one side either yield or are incapacitated."
"I wish they would tell us these things before we get out here," Kamahl grumbled.
"That's part of the fun," Chainer said.
"Requesting the grudge match, and representing the Order's late, lamented northern Citadel, please welcome Lieutenant Devon's crusat squad!"
Lt. Devon was another aven warrior, and though his wings were stunted, Chainer fully expected him to fly with the aid of the Order's magic. He was armed with a long pike. The rest of Devon's squad consisted of two troopers, a white-robed mage, and a huge stone beast with the head of a lion and the body of a ten-foot- tall man.
While the announcer continued with the introductions, Kamahl leaned over to Chainer and said, "What's a 'crusat?' Every toy soldier I meet these days calls himself crusat."
Chainer was pleased that Kamahl was actually speaking before a match, and that the barbarian had used Cabal slang to describe the Order. It made them seem more like a team.
"Crusat is a kind of holy war," Chainer explained. "They used to declare them every year or so, back in the days when they were trying to wipe us out once and for all. Pianna put a stop to all that, but now that she's gone, a few of their hard-liners have revived the concept."
Kamahl grimaced. "So we're fighting a death match against fanatics with a spiritual grudge against you."
Chainer nodded. "That's about the size of it." He smiled. "Should be fun, eh?"
Kamahl grumbled. "I usually like there to be more of a reward waiting for me when I fight for my life."
Chainer darkened. "As soon as the First offers the Mirari again, you'll get your chance." He nudged Kamahl. "What's that statue-looking thing?" Chainer asked.
"They're called megoliths. Animated stone, or some such thing. I've fought them before."
"Like a golem?" Chainer was eager for another crack at an Order golem.
"Sort of. They aren't carved before they're animated like golems are. They just sort of… come into being in the shape they have. Watch the pieces," he warned. "Sometimes you can hack off a piece, and the piece keeps fighting."
"Thanks," Chainer said. He gestured with his smoking censer. "Look, they're burning incense, too."
Kamahl looked. "Seems more like a prayer ceremony to me. I think they're blessing the bird- man."
"Think that'll make him fly?" Chainer said. He started spinning his censer around his head.
"Probably." Kamahl's voice had gone flat again, indicating that his mind was not on the conversation. The prep horn sounded. The match was ready to begin.
"You want the bird-man and the mystic or the statue and the toy soldiers?"
"I'll take the statue. I want to see if it melts or burns," Kamahl drew his massive broadsword. "Watch the mage. She's not armed, so I expect she's got some magical surprise in store for us."