Kings Game

Chapter 9 - The living storm (1)

After having lunch with Chase, and feeding the last bucket of slops to the dogs, Roran headed for the gladiator's hub. By now it was mostly empty, with only a few gladiators milling about. After a few moments of looking, Roran found Carrick.

"Well, if it isn't Kell's favorite murderer," said Carrick.

Roran winced at the comment. "Yeah, not my greatest moment."

"Oh? I wouldn't know. From where I'm standing it was your greatest moment by far."

Roran winced again but went on. "I'm here to collect my winnings."

"Do you want favors or coin?" asked Carrick.

"I get to choose?"

Carrick nodded. "Now that you're an official gladiator, you can earn and spend coin. Favors will get you more food and medicine here in the Crucible, but you'll need coin if you want to purchase things outside the arena. A new sword and shield for instance..."

Ignoring the heat creeping up his cheeks, Roran said, "Favors. My people need the favors for food and medicine more than anything."

Carrick nodded and began flipping through a ledger. He found Roran's name and counted out his winnings. "Five for participation, two for two kills, and two for challenging Duran the living boulder." He slipped the favors into a small pouch and handed them over.

Roran hefted the pouch and frowned. It was much lighter than the last one he had received. Seeing his expression, Carrick shrugged.

"Last time you killed a champion, you got their bounty. This time you only get what you earned. If you want more, kill more people."

The coldness of Carrick's statement made Roran shiver. He didn't like equating human life to money. If killing less meant earning less, then he was fine with that.

"Hey," said Roran, changing the topic, "I heard there was a special event happening."

"Ah yes, they have a little tourney coming up. The Kings like to grace the Crucible with their presence every now and again. They throw extra money at the gladiators to make them play silly games and kill each other in even sillier ways."

"I heard one of the Kings will grant a favor to the winner," said Roran, "What sort of favors do they grant?"

Carrick rolled his eyes. "Small wishes within their power," he said. "Most people wish for money, or small miracles. The Kings are powerful enough that little things like that don't phase them."

"What about pulling a town out of the dungeons?"

Carrick snorted. "What, to live on the surface?"

Roran nodded.

"Oh, you're serious." Carrick straightened up a little bit. "Well, I don't see why not. It would be a major pain, logistically speaking, but it could be done. With the word of a King it could be done easily."

Roran nodded again, his pulse quickening. He was beginning to see a way out.

"But," Carrick went on, "the tourney's are dangerous."

"You said they were silly little games."

"Silly little games where people die silly deaths," said Carrick. "Do you want to die a silly death?"

"If it means saving my people, I think it's worth the risk."

"It's your choice, but I strongly suggest you think on it first. Remember, your people will survive your death, you won't."

Roran blinked at him.

Carrick waved away the look. "You know what I mean. Don't die for people that don't care about you."