Silver Blades: Prize Fight

Interlude 1 - The Prize Fight

L.E.Y. 3150

Pertuli.

"Suns, it's hot in here," I complained, tugging at the starched ruff around my neck.

"Relax, 'Tuli," Koray chided. "It can't be helped with so many bodies; Tortelli's is normally comfortable throughout the year."

"Forgive me," I grumbled with forgivable petulance, "if I prefer to obtain my daily ration of body heat in an entirely different manner..." I scooted a little closer to our lovely chaperone to avoid sharing contact filth with a human acne farmer on my right. "...and from better sources."

"You're forgiven," smirked Tyella, who playfully jostled me back. "Need some perfume for your friend there?"

My eyes widened with hope. "Do you have any?" I asked.

"Elders, no!" She laughed. "But your face just now was priceless!"

"Keep your guard up!" Kor yelled abruptly, startling me and drawing my attention reluctantly back to the fight.

It raged in an iron cage, beyond seven paces of tightly packed, loudly cheering, human and dwarven flesh. To describe the throng as the 'unwashed masses' would be like styling myself 'confident,' or calling Tyella merely 'fair.' That is to say, a criminal use of understatement.

Happily, we were entrenched with the more properly funded of the crowd, on seating above and apart from the bullpen. Money, in a place like this, offered distinct advantages. Unfortunately these benefits were offset by the low fog of lamp smoke stinging my eyes and scratching my throat. There seemed too little air. Few doors led into the chamber, and these were watched hawkishly by monstrous guards in thick leather bracers and iron collars, as if the management sought to keep the very air out, if it failed to pay for admittance.

Shoving through the crowd here and there (I shuddered; there wasn't enough soap in all the world...) were the men of wagers, taking coin and noting bets in heavy ledgers chained to their left wrists. They were doing a brisk business. The fight had been anticipated for months, with actual flyers posted throughout Connorton and along the waterfront where the king's men hadn't torn them down.

The current champion, Ivy "the Untamed Vine" was defending her tenuous title against a brute of a man called "the Pommel" who had worked his way up from the lower circuit. The fight wasn't going well for the tilwenna swordswoman. Fav Furgev, her opponent, was massive, fast, and had the constitution of a horse.

"He's favoring his right side!" Koray yelled, again letting us know he was watching the fight.

"Thank you," I complained with a few sarcastic blinks and wiggling a finger in my ear to stop the ringing. Koray, being Koray, had bet on the slip of a girl, trusting her perseverance and skill to beat back the Pommel's raw power. He was a sucker for the dark horse. I had bet on the human just to be contrary, and it looked like I stood to gain a number of scales. Tyella never took sides, but had kissed us both sweetly for good luck.

"But here is the classic case I'm always talking about," Kor said by way of apology. "If she were using a longer blade that was thinner to minimize the weight, her reach would be greater, and she wouldn't need to move about so much to keep his heavier but shorter weapon at bay. She could poke holes in this guy before he ever came within reach."

"Yes, yes," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "The rapier is the weapon to end all weapons, we know."

"You know I'm always up for testing a long weapon, Kor," Tyella teased, oblivious to the scandalized stares she drew. "Especially when a man knows how to handle it properly. But this isn't an ideal forum... Why not start a new fencing regimen in the guard and see how it goes?"