Mouth's End, Market place.
Crowds gathered in the market, stalls were cleared and people formed a large circle. Dirt and dust awaited the blood and sweat of fighters, almost three years passed since fights were held in the market. King Crowe used to force rapists, thieves, murderers and any other rotten people from the armpits of society to fight until death. King Rose carried on the tradition but over time the fights were used as entertainment for visitors within the castle, but he couldn't deny Jonathan his wish to publicly humiliate the blacksmith. The prisoners stood in chains at the head of the ring, people placed bets on the outcomes. Ryder stood looking fierce, but he trembled inside. The guards had taken his clothes leaving him with torn hose and worn boots. His body was well built but he was smaller than the Knights that he had to face. People studied Ryder for gambling purposes, the fact his ribs were purple in bruising and his knuckles were damaged put him in low odds. Ryder stood taking deep breaths, his heart was violently beating against his chest. The King, his council and his Knights sat on a stage behind the prisoners, drinking wine and awaiting the fights. Edward Straddling sat with the King too; his Knights were placed throughout the crowd among the guards assuring no prisoners tried their escape. Ryder glanced behind him, he couldn't see Robert or Renae on the stage, but he could see Jonathan staring down at him. It's not the size of the man in the fight...It's the size of the fight in the man. Ryder kept on rehearsing the words his Father taught him, over and over again in his head until his heart hastened once more.
The King stood up and held his hand in the air, people turned their attention to him as they nudged others to be quiet. "People of Mouth's End, today we bring you the blood of ruthless criminals once again! Soon the house of Straddling is to join the house of Rose. Celebrate with us and indulge yourselves in the viewing of our well served justice! Take joy in knowing that tonight you will sleep in your own beds because you are law abiding citizens, and these criminals will wander the underworlds in excruciating pain with flesh hanging loosely from bone! But, do not give your gratitude to me... If it was not for Sir Jonathan Straddling, Head of the King's Knights who kindly organised this entertainment, it would not have been so! And remember, he brings you these fights as a hearty gesture of good faith... He is soon to be your Prince!" The crowd cheered for Jonathan, many women flashed their breasts whilst men roared. All for a man who would see them dead if they failed to obey him, Jonathan stepped forward and revelled in the chanting of his name. His armour shun brightly in the hot mid-day sun, he stood proudly on the balcony of the stage, high above the people. "You are too kind! – He shouted as the crowd calmed to hear his words – I do not present these fights to you so that you will cheer my name! I present them to you as a gift, as head Knight I protect you with harsh but necessary justice. As Prince I will do the same, but with even more honour and pride, consider these fights as a demonstration of my pride and honour hand in hand with my iron fist of justice!" The people resumed their cheering; some people were calling out to Jonathan and screaming his name as if he was some kind of saviour. Naked women sat on peoples shoulders chanting his name and singing songs of death to the prisoners. Ryder turned again to look at Jonathan; he smiled down and held his hands out, showing Ryder his power. Ryder turned to look at the crowd as he protected his face from the rotten food that was being thrown at him. "Let us begin!" Jonathan shouted out.
Four prisoners stood in the large ring as four un-armoured Knights entered. All four of the Knights were large men, they held their hands in the air as people cheered. The prisoners were skinny and untenable; they stood shaking waiting for the signal to fight. Ryder stood watching with one other prisoner to his side. The two were being saved for the last fights, they were larger and willing to defend themselves. "It's not the size of the man in the fight... It's the size of the fight in the man. Maybe those words will aid you as they do me." Ryder said to the other prisoner, they both turned their attention back to the ring. Jonathan stood once again with his hand open in the air as the Knights in the ring turned to him, awaiting his signal. Everybody watched anxiously, waiting in silence. The minutes they waited were tense and seemed longer. Jonathan forced his hand into a fist and screamed. "Fight!" The Knights ran at the prisoners, each one on one flinging them in the air and kicking them across the floor. One of the Knights lifted a prisoner and dropped him onto his knee, the loud crack of his spine shocked the crowd. Before long, dust clouded the air whilst blood tainted the dirt, there was no challenge but the Knights dragged the fight out as two prisoners begged for mercy. The other prisoner was the smartest, he chose not to beg. "Kill me quickly and let me keep what dignity I have left." The Knights ignored him as they continued to kick the men to each other. The prisoner with the broken back shocked the people as he started to scream in agony, he wasn't dead. One of the Knights ran back over and kicked him hard enough to lift him from the ground, blood and dust followed him as he was airborne. He hit the floor already dead; his face split on impact and covered the front row in a spray of blood. Another Knight repeatedly hit a prisoner in the face with brutal force until he was barely recognisable. He kept on hitting as he held the man up until his body went limp. Only two prisoners remained, one got to his feet and ran at one of the Knights. The Knight stepped to his left and ducked down. As the prisoner came close the Knight whipped him out by smashing his arm into the prisoner's throat. The man continued past him, his feet left the ground as his body back flipped. The four Knights picked the remaining prisoner up by a limp each. They held the man by his arms and legs, slowly; they started to walk away from each other. Pulling as hard as they could, the man started to cry out; he screamed and begged them to stop. The man's bones started to come out of socket as his muscles began to tear. A few people in the crowd vomited as they watched the man's skin start to split, his limbs stretched further and further away from him as his cries intensified. The Knights struggled to pull the man apart; they roared out and started to sweat. Eventually the man's arms tore from his torso; he dropped down and hit the floor as the other two Knights still had his legs. The man bled out in seconds, a large puddle surrounded him and the Knights that held his arms were covered in blood from head to toe. The crowd was ambivalent, they cheered, cried, screamed and vomited. Ryder's stomach turned, he tried to block out what he had just witnessed but the blood that flooded the centre of the ring prohibited him. "I can feel my mortality more than ever." The prisoner said to Ryder as he continued to tremble. "Remember those words, you may yet live." Ryder replied as he nodded at the man. "I'm not entirely sure I want to. I'd spend the rest of my life in the prison tower of the Horse's Eye."
