45 - Lighting Loner versus Riji the Mangler

“My son… my malicious miniature! I have a gift for you! Hold out your hands!” We were in the Imperial Box and Riji the Mangler climbed to his feet from his prostration in front of my father, his filthy rags sodden with brown… no, red liquid. The whole sands of the Mezem were dark, sodden, red as if the whole barrel of printer’s ink I spilled …saturated everything. Riji’s hair was soaked in blood and his face was covered in it, making his smile stand out white as bone. Father gestured him to give me my present.

“Since he was yours, your pet, I thought you would want part of him to remember him by.” He put two brown eyes, trailing strands where they were torn out of a head, into my hands. On top of them he put a heart, still warm, still twitching. Shefenkas’s eyes. Shefenkas’s heart. I was covered with his blood as if I’d been dragged through it.

I started screaming as Father shouted “How dare he love you? How dare you love him? How COULD you!?” I fell out of bed struggling to get out of the box, the dream, the fear… and hit my back and head on my bed stairs, having knocked the wind out of myself. I lay and gasped for a bit before my breath came back with a whooping inhale and by that time, Binshala, who had seen that nightmares had plagued me the past three days, knelt down to help me up. She’d brought Misahis with her and he had a remedy bottle already in his hand. “I’m all right… Just a… just a… just a bad dream.”

I took the remedy and accepted their help to get upright, my lungs feeling shaky and as if I couldn’t even my breathing out. He rapped the remedy against his hand and gave me a few more drops. I felt something like a shock as though I’d lost all my air and then everything settled. Binshala held a cup of water for me. I couldn’t take anything aromatic for a few minutes after a Haian remedy.

“Thank you. Thank you both. It’s just a dream. The dreams’ll go away.” In one day, when Shefenkas wins against Riji, but I won’t tell them that. He had to win. He had to. But Riji was so good. No, I wouldn’t think that. Shefenkas would win.

Binshala changed my sheets and freshened my pillows while I sat beside Misahis, just breathing and getting further away from the dream. When I had been tucked in safely and only the night lamp was on, I sat in the bed and waited for my nurse to settle down to her rest on the day bed just outside. She’d started sleeping close by when I had two nights of nightmares in a row.

I didn’t want to close my eyes but was very very tired. When at last I heard her first soft snores, I slid back out of bed quietly, ghosting my foot onto the top step. I sneaked down and knelt beside my stairs, beside my bed. Even though it was the wrong time of day to pray, I cupped my temples with my hands and prayed to Muunas and then to Aras. Then the other eight even though I couldn’t think what good the slave or okas gods could do for a fighter, or a Durakis semanakraseye. I didn’t know any of the formal prayers for the Goddesses and I hoped they wouldn’t mind that I addressed them so informally. And I apologized to the Gods for addressing their wives so familiarly. “For Shefenkas, please, oh High God. Thou who art mighty and omnipresent and omnipotent and omnibenevolent… Please… and thank you.” If those words were important and powerful for people, maybe God would like them too.

I was able to sleep after that.

**

Next day was almost like Jitzmitthra. The city was making this fight day an unofficial holiday. Seat prices had gone to five times their normal price the day before. My Companions, the half dozen that were left, chatted about the Raikas/Riji fight almost incessantly. I heard Filibas, in my first closet, whispering to Ordas about something that had happened between Riji and Raikas, yesterday after their training.

“… they sparred. They hadn’t ever, before… and Riji won! They say he blooded Raikas right at the end. Just a pin prick.”

“Really? I had a bet on Raikas, maybe I –“

“—Shh… his Sparkiness wouldn’t like that! But… well… I laid a bet on Riji last night… the odds went from even to four/three against Raikas!”

Iamis went in to see what was keeping them and I headed for the garderobe where I could sit down in private. My guts were loose, like water. I sat on the stool and leaned my head on the gilded tiles of the closet with my eyes closed. Raikas just lost a sparring match. Not like it was the real fight. I sat, shaking in the garderobe closet, trying to focus on the strong-scented flower sconces near the ceiling. I was there long enough that Binshala dared knock and ask me if I needed help.

“No! I’ll be out soon!”

I threw a tantrum and made everyone get new clothing for me three times and then picked at my breakfast for long enough that it ran into my mid-morning snack and I told Ailadas, when he looked in to see if I was coming to lessons, to fik off.

When Father and I and Kyriala climbed into our carry-chairs, just inside the Steel Gate, a set up so that the Imperator would never risk setting foot on the ground, I was light headed.

Fans were waiting in long lines to get in, shouting at each other. Raikas fans wore black curly wigs, very strange to see in the city. Riji fans tended to wear clean rags and tatters, his Aitzas fans going so far as having the madman’s garb done up in silk and satin and lace, their hair spiked with perfume rather than dirt.

Father’s palanquin disappeared into the Imperial gate and the writers who wouldn’t dare approach him trotted up beside my chair. “Spark of the Sun’s Ray! Have you any comment about the coming fight! Is your fighter going to win?” I tried my best not to get mad at them for asking such stupid questions. They stung like biting flies.

They followed to where I stepped out onto the stairs to the Imperial box and I turned to the pack of them and raised my hand to shut them up. They quieted and I gestured to an oddsman in the crowd. “Writers… I have one answer to your questions.” I pulled a gold chain off my head and held it to the oddsman. “On Raikas. To win.” I turned my back on them and their fly-buzzing questions.

I left them at the bottom of the stairs where they were not allowed and they had to scatter to let Kyriala alight. I offered her my arm and was so angry and upset I didn’t pay attention as she took it. I hated this. I hated the Mezem then. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want Shefenkas to be there. I found myself hating the fans milling below the stairs, pushing up into their seats. They didn’t look human to me, but rather a howling monster that could eat my friend. They wanted to eat someone. They wanted someone to die and they didn’t care. It made me think of Father for some reason. “Spark of the Sun’s Ray,” Kyriala said quietly. I turned my head abruptly. What did she want? “I will pray for Raikas as well.”

“Thank you.” I turned my head away. I didn’t know why she was doing that. I handed her into her chair and left her to adjust her skirts and veils and stuff, and plunked my butt down into my own chair. Father looked up from the tray of sweetbreads he’d been picking through, and nodded his approval of my etiquette. “A lovely day for a fight, my minature.”

I laughed dutifully. “Yes, Father.” I tapped a katzerik out of my case and Idiesas lit it for me. It stopped my shaking and gave my hands something to do. The first two fights were quick, a five chainer died and a nine-chainer. The third fight went on long enough that the crowd, impatient for main fight began flapping and buzzing both men. I smoked three more katzeriks and then had to excuse myself to go throw up.

In behind the Imperial box the garderobe was in such old stone it was cool and quiet. Once the door closed I emptied my gut quickly and pressed my aching forehead against the gold plaster. That let me compose myself and pretend. If I lost Shefenkas… I didn’t know how I would bear it. I hadn’t known he existed a year ago, and now I cared if he lived or died. I cared so much I thought I could feel my heart break in my chest from fear.

“Minimum! You missed a good opening! This fourth fight is already into its second round!” Father was teasing me, thinking I was just eager to have my fighter… his enemy… on the sand. I took out another katzerik but just held it, waving away the light. My mouth felt coated with bile. I drank half my glass of wine, trying to wash the taste of my own insides, the taste of my own fear out of my mouth.

That fight finished in that round, perhaps a dozen strokes. I could feel my heart beat faster even as I waited through the ‘presentation of the victory chain’ and the ‘cleaning of the ring’ and ‘the announcement of the final fight’… as if no one in this insane bowl knew.

“The toss has been made! Raikas wins! First round, both fighters, clean blade.” Riji was already in his ring persona… filthy, laughing, even foaming a little at the mouth… slavering for Raikas’s death. Shefenkas stood like a champion’s statue in his gate, noble against the jigging, giggling wild man. Father had the front windows opened so the sound and smell of the crowd came pouring in like sewage, full of the heat from outside. The bawling of sweet-wine sellers was submerged in the horns and bells in the crowd. The aroma of the sausage seller's wares, warred with the delicacies in front of Father.

I put everything down and clutched the arms of my chair tight. “My son! Here!” Father called for my attention just as the gates clanged open and he did it to make me drag my attention away from the fight, laughing at me. I took the sweetbread in my mouth, my eyes turned toward the ring, trying to see the opening rush, nearly choked on the spices while Father laughed and my Mahid pounded on my back as I coughed. Even with my eyes watering I didn’t take my eyes off the fight.

Both men came out hard with no holding back. They’d tested each other the night before, it seemed. They moved so fast it was hard to see some of the moves. I took the napkin from a slave absently to wipe my mouth. Gods… God help him… Muunas… Father of Gods… please… please…

The first round clanged to a close and I sagged in my chair. “You’re worried, my miniscule monster? I thought you trusted completely that your fighter… Shefenkas, would be the best fighter!” Father didn’t care that Kyriala heard. She coughed, slightly, turned to sip her light wine.

“Of course I do, Father. It’s just so exciting.” I was exhausted and it was only the first round. He looked at me for a long moment and smiled.

“Slave!” He grunted, adjusted his body in his chair, and tucked the sex-boy under the Imperial robe right in front of Kyriala, without a thought to her sensibilities. And at that moment I hated him, though it was wrong. I hated him for preparing to enjoy this fight like that. I looked to see how tired they were, sitting in their gates with the boys fussing. Riji was more than ten years older than Rai—Shefenkas. Surely he’d flag first.

The second round, both fighters armed with Riji’s choice, sword and chain, went much like the first though Riji was a demon with the chain and the wicked little ball of spikes on the end. At one point I thought I was going to swallow my tongue because Shefenkas did block and spun perfectly out of the way but his own fighting chain snapped back a hair off and almost nicked him across the temple. They showed no signs of tiredness, either one.

Father stopped the boy sucking on him during the break. I was glad of the crowd noise because his moans of enjoyment embarrassed me in front of my fiancée as if it were me doing it.

The third round was clean blade again. I had to light up another katzerik. I could hear Skorsas’s shrill voice calling encouragement even through the low rumble and roar the beast of a crowd. A fessas woman in the benches above, screamed hysterical advice to Riji, offering herself to him if he won. Shefenkas thrust once and I began to cheer because I was sure Riji had nothing to block with, but he did the odd move with his wrist bracelet, just like Shefenkas, and the kraiya skipped off. Shefenkas ducked and turned to block Riji’s counter strike, barely stopping it.

The fourth round and the crowd showed no sign of flagging, a claque began chanting ‘Raikas, Raikas, Raikas.’ Not to be out-done a counter chant started and the ushers had to move in to stop fist-fights breaking out in the okas sections. Riji swapped hands so that his sword was in his left hand, his chain in his right. The chain buzzed just as viciously in that hand as he spun it. He came out as he did every time, giggling as if he were a boy about to be offered a sweet. Father let his head drop back slowly, eyes half closed as the boy began working again.

They circled, struck, circled. They were right in front of the Imperial box, I could hear Father panting and I dropped my katzerik unsmoked, as it burned down to my fingers, raised a blister. That was when it happened. Shefenkas stepped in to strike and Riji blocked low, Shefenkas’s lead foot swept out from under him, caught by Riji’s chain, blood blooming around the ankle.

He was startled, I caught the flash as he began to fall, Riji hammered him in the temple with the fist holding the chain and he went down, boneless, the kraiya spinning out of slack fingers. I couldn’t hear myself screaming in squealing roar from the crowd. He lay, unconscious on his back, no fight left no way to defend himself, finished. Now Riji would take his time and torture him to death.

Father flung his head back, thrusting into the boy’s mouth, my throat was raw – I was on my feet screaming. Kyriala had both gloves over her face. Riji’s fans flung their horns and bells into the air, Shefenkas’s fans strained down toward him, arms and hands outstretched, as if they could help him up. Animal sounds from an animal mob. Wine cups were flung into the air in celebration or mourning, peanuts and flowers and underclothing began rain into the ring.

“NO NONONONO NO NO! RRRRRAAAAIIIKKKKAAAASSSSS.”

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this scene from Chevenga's pov