‘This was once a land of birds – but for the humans who lived here there were no mammals. To sustain, support and challenge us, bears, deer, pigs, horses, oxen and wolves were placed here by the djinn. Obviouslythe Wolf Wheel did not evolve naturally. It is a construct, a matrix of patterns, also created by the djinn. We live freely within the forest, hidden from the jurisdiction of the Protector, but we must submit to this ritualcombat that culls the tribe. That is what the djinn set in place for us. We are the prey of the werewights.’
I nodded. It seemed to me that combat in Arena 13 might have evolved from this cruel Genthai ritual.
‘I have a reason for telling you this now, Leif,’ Konnit said with a grim smile. ‘You see, this is the worst of all years. We have just entered the thirteenth segment of the Wolf Wheel. Three more nights will bring us tothe full moon. Then the combat ritual will begin. You want to learn about your father’s people? Here is your chance to see something that no outsider knows about. You are invited to watch the ritual, along with a selectband of warriors – those who will fight, those who are kin to the combatants. Each warrior will defend his own daughter. All but one! This year there is one child who is an orphan, but the lottery has still chosen her to bebound to the stake. This happens only rarely, but now a member of the tribe must volunteer to defend that child. You want acceptance, Leif? You want to be a true warrior of this tribe, with all the honour and respect thatwill bring? Do you?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, lord.’
‘Well, there is a way. An opportunity presents itself . . . but will you take it? Would you be prepared to defend that orphan child?’
‘You want me to defend her, lord?’ I asked in astonishment. ‘Why should it be me?’
‘Oh, it need not be you, Leif. There will be many volunteers, each eager for a chance to prove himself brave, skilful and fast, but if you wish to grasp this opportunity, it is my gift to you. The orphan girl will be tied tothe stake on the third night – you will have plenty of time to see werewights in action and decide how to achieve victory. You have the speed, but do you have the tactical ability to win and save the child? Do you havethe guts to do what is necessary? I watched you fight the tassel, but you did not slay it as a true warrior would. This time you would have to use your blade to slay the werewight. You will need to kill all four of itsselves.’
‘My blade, lord? I have taken an oath not to use blades outside Arena 13.’
Konnit sighed. ‘That oath is taken by city people to meet the needs of the city. Here we are in the forest, in the Genthai domain, and different rules apply. Do not make excuses, Leif!’
Then he nodded to me curtly and walked away through the whirling snowflakes, his eyes cold.
I returned to my tree and picked up my axe, contradictory thoughts spinning inside my head. I did not want to lose my place in Tyron’s combat stable; I wanted to fight in Arena 13. Despite what Konnit said, if anyonein Gindeen found out that I had broken that oath, I would be dismissed and never allowed to fight in the arena again.
Had Konnit told me that I was the only one who could defend the orphan, it would have been different. But that wasn’t the case. There were young Genthai warriors eager to take the role that had been offered to me.Whatever I decided, the child would be defended.
Yet I also wanted to prove myself; to be accepted by the Genthai. I wanted to show Konnit what I could do. He probably thought me a coward for not slaying the tassel. If I fought, I would have to slay the werewight.Killing wolves would be easier than slaying something that looked human and walked upon two legs – surely I could do it.
What should I say?
Undecided, I attacked the tree trunk once again.
LEIF, SON OF MATHIAS
Combat in Arena 13 and the werewight ritual are but shadows of a more terrible conflict.
Amabramsum: the Genthai Book of Wisdom
The meeting hall of the Genthai impressed me again the next time I saw it. It was spectacular, with its high roof supported by heavy beams lost in shadows, its three stone fireplaces, the myriad faces carved into thewalls. But the huge double doors that gave direct access to the forest were closed.
I watched the torches being taken down from the walls and extinguished. My mouth was dry, a sign of nervousness about what I was about to witness.
At a signal from Konnit, I moved back with the Genthai warriors, retreating to the fading warmth and light of the fires, leaving a wide empty space in the middle of the great hall. This was where the fights between thewarriors and the werewights would take place.
Beyond it, from a large wooden throne set back against the far wall, Konnit watched the proceedings impassively.
A deep rumble shuddered through the floor as the large wooden double doors were dragged open to admit the night. The full moon was visible through the trees, low in the sky, casting its brilliant white light directlyinto the hall. It illuminated the stake, projecting its thin shadow far across the floor.
The first Genthai defender strode towards the stake, a child in his arms; he placed her gently on the floor, fumbling with the chain as he tried to bind her to the stake. She gave a small plaintive cry, and I saw that theman’s hands were shaking. A metallic rattle set my teeth on edge.
A cold wind blew through the open doors; suddenly I saw a dark silhouette against the moon and a long grotesque shadow cast before it. A stark figure entered the hall, walking on two legs. This was the leading selfof the werewight, and it was preceded by three others; three lean, black-furred wolves which wove to and fro before their grim shepherd in rapidly changing patterns.
The Genthai defender strode forward and positioned himself between the child and his adversaries. As he lifted his two short daggers, their blades gleamed in the moonlight. The action was instantly copied by thewerewight leader, which also wielded blades.
The mouths of the wolves lolled open as they advanced, saliva dripping. Their breath steamed in the moonlight.
Somewhere to my right, a child started to cry and was hushed into silence. Did she realize that it would soon be her turn? The girl bound to the stake made no sound at all. In fact, considering what was about to takeplace, the whole meeting house was astonishingly silent. There were no mothers in the room – only the fathers, who were no doubt expected to be strong, stoic and silent.
The warrior must be in torment, I thought. I had heard Konnit’s explanation, but now as the action was about to unfold I saw the problem clearly. It would be difficult to win, as the werewight’s selves could approachthe child from any angle. While the man tried to fend off one wolf, another would attack simultaneously. And he himself would be vulnerable. He could be attacked from behind. He had to defend himself and the child.And if he lost, not only would his own life be forfeit. His daughter, whom he no doubt loved very much, would die. Judging by what I’d seen so far, the Genthai were devoted parents. The father wouldn’t want this fight.He wouldn’t want to risk his daughter’s life, but he had no choice. From Konnit I’d learned that all female children over the age of three were entered into the lottery.
Ninety-one were chosen.
Most of them died.
The wolves padded deeper into the hall now. For almost five centuries the Genthai had played out this same grim ritual once every thirteen years. They believed that these creatures they fought shared a soul – that thewerewight was one being with four selves. If that was the case, I reflected, perhaps they were similar to Hob. He had one mind and many selves. Perhaps these creatures were a type of djinni?
The wolves were fast and attacked from all sides. The man was also fast and he fought bravely. He was the first to draw blood, cutting one of the wolves on the shoulder. As the blood sprayed upwards, all four of hisenemies screamed in pain and rage.
They all felt the pain – they had reacted like one being!
And now they attacked together; they were fluent, fast and deadly.
The warrior did his utmost to protect his daughter, who was now screaming with terror.
But things very quickly went wrong. Three wolves came at him together, one from behind. His legs were pinned and he wasdragged to the floor. Then he too was screaming as the wolves ripped and tore his flesh – and then that of the girl. She stopped screaming first.
I watched, sick to my stomach. The wolves were feeding, tearing flesh from the body of the warrior, which was lying in a pool of blood. The man-wolf was also on all fours; mercifully its face was still in darkness, butthe moonlight gleamed on the dark fur of its back and shoulders. It was more wolf than man.
All that could be heard now was a snuffling and growling and the frantic rattling of the chain as the man-wolf shook its prey. I glanced across at Konnit. His face was expressionless; it could have been carved fromstone.
For a moment I turned my face away, but no one else in the meeting hall moved. The Genthai were like statues enduring the horror in silence.
Soon the four selves of the werewight padded back into the darkness, leaving the remains of their victims behind. Warriors dashed forward to clear away the fragments of flesh and bone and to scatter sawdust to soakup the blood. There was a lot of blood.
I witnessed six more contests that terrible night. There was only one human victory; only one child was saved from the jaws of the werewight.
On the second night, all the children died.
Then it was the third night, when the orphan girl would be tied to the stake. I had no idea which of the seven she was. Konnit had not spoken to me since our meeting in the forest, and I had still not decided what to do.With each loss I grew more tense, and sweat began to run down my neck and shoulders.
When it was time for the sixth contest, a lone warrior came forward carrying a child who seemed bigger than the previous victims; old enough to be fully aware of what was about to happen.
He knelt and began fixing her to the stake. I noticed that his hands were steady: he seemed calmer than the other warriors. Was he more confident of victory?
As he bound her, the girl sat up and stared at us. She had large, almond-shaped eyes that glittered with intelligence, but her face was expressionless. She showed no sign of fear.
Then I noticed that the warrior was carrying no blades, and realized that this was the orphan.
The man turned to face us and spoke, his voice echoing from the dark shadowed beams of the ceiling.
‘This girl is an orphan. The lottery has chosen her, and with no father to defend her, she must nevertheless be fastened to the stake. Who is prepared to fight for her?’
Nobody replied. The hall was filled with silence. I sat there, frozen. Was it my imagination, or was the warrior staring straight at me? Beyond him, Konnit seemed to be staring in my direction too.
Of course they were! They expected me to respond.
Again and again I had gone over the reasons for either accepting the role or rejecting it. Although news of stick-fighting in Mypocine might have got back to Tyron, this probably wouldn’t. What went on here in thedepths of the Genthai domain would remain hidden from the outside world.
And Konnit was right to point out that the oath I’d taken was intended to keep murder off the streets of Gindeen; it was to prevent skilled Arena 13 combatants being tempted to use their blades in quarrels. Here it wasa different world.
But could I use my blades to draw blood? Could I kill? I asked myself.
I had still not decided what to do.
Some believe that there is no free will. Ancient philosophers have argued that our conscious selves are not truly in control of our actions; that something deep within our brains, unknown and invisible to us, makes ourdecisions for us.
That’s what seemed to happen to me now.
Before I realized what I was doing, I’d clambered to my feet. My mouth was dry and I had to swallow twice before I was able to speak.
‘I will defend her!’ I cried, my whole body shaking with nerves.
‘What is your name?’ the warrior demanded as everyone stared at me.
I gave him my answer: ‘My name is Leif, son of Mathias.’
I turned and saw that Konnit was smiling.
I turned my back on the girl and faced the light of the full moon. Holding the daggers, I took three rapid steps towards the huge double doors, then flexed my knees experimentally, shifting my weight onto each foot inturn.
My eyes searched the gloom until I picked out the figures approaching along the four paths through the trees, crossing the hard-packed snow. One strode on two legs; the other three loped towards me in the shape ofwolves.
I was the sixth to fight tonight – the sequence of combatants was determined by the order in which the children were drawn in the lottery. But I wondered how the werewights chose their combatants . . . And howmany waited out there within the darkness of the trees . . .
At last they reached the hall, moving onto the wooden floor, the three wolves crossing and re-crossing before their leader. I moved forward to meet them, reading their elaborate movements, patterns quickly forming inmy own mind. The combat training I’d received from Tyron could prove very useful here. I was getting better at reading the movements and feints of adversaries.
They were so close now that I could smell their stench; a rank animal sweat masked the underlying sweetness of blood that still tainted the air. The eyes of the wolves glittered in the darkness that seemed to movebefore them, blocking out the light of the moon.
I wasn’t afraid for myself, but I was afraid for the child. If I put a foot wrong, one of the selves of the werewight would race past me and kill her. At the same time I was excited, the adrenalin pumping hard throughmy body.
I had fought in the Arena 13 Trainee Tournament, but that had been but a shadow of the real thing. This was what it would feel like fighting in the Arena 13 under the full rules. There, after five minutes of combat agong would sound and I’d have to fight to the fore of my lac, facing my human opponent and his three lacs, who would try to cut my flesh in order to claim victory. I would be that much closer to danger. One false stepmight result in my death. It was the same here.
I made myself focus on the task. How would they attack? I wondered. Each werewight had launched a different first assault, its intent hidden. The key was the man-wolf. Slay that, and the co-ordination of the othersmight collapse. The wolves might be easier to deal with. However, I knew that I probably wouldn’t be able to choose which I attacked. I was outnumbered four to one. All I’d be able to do was react. Only my speedcould bring victory and save the child.
I shuffled two steps to the left and two steps to the right, then began to move backwards at an angle, as if in retreat, my feet drumming rhythmically upon the boards. Instinctively I was using the sound-code Ulum,even though I had no lac to direct. It gave me confidence, and drew a murmur from the crowd, which usually remained absolutely silent. It was the same move I’d have made in Arena 13. It allowed for flexibility ofresponse.
By the time the wolves surged forward, as if encouraged by my seeming retreat, I’d already reversed direction.
A wolf bounded past on my left, making for the throat of the child. It took all my self-control not to go after it.
The girl started to scream, but I maintained my position.
As I deliberately let the first wolf pass, I raised my daggers against the other two. They attacked together, but instinctively I’d already stepped into a different place – the space between spaces – and with both armsoutstretched, my blades arced, slitting their bellies wide open to spill their intestines.
Behind me I could hear the child shrieking frantically.
The two wolves were dead, but before their dying bodies had even thumped onto the boards, I’d already turned and was racing back towards the stake.
When it was barely a hand’s span from the terrified child, I pinned the neck of the third wolf to the floor.
Then I turned to face the man-wolf; I took a step towards it, raising my daggers as I approached. Konnit had questioned whether I had the guts to kill it. Now I knew the
answer. This beast would have taken the girl’slife without a thought. My anger had slowly grown as I witnessed death after death. Now I had no scruples.
The creature was fast; possibly as fast and skilful as any lac in Arena 13. I didn’t underestimate the danger: on its hind legs, it was a full head taller than I was, with formidable strength and uncanny reflexes. It snarled,pulling back its bestial lips to reveal its fangs, then slashed with the blade in its right hand; slashed at the place where I’d stood but a fraction of a second earlier.
We circled each other warily. I moved to the left, then feinted with my right blade, watching the response. The creature began to retreat, but I was already in very close, ducking beneath its arcing knife to strike hometwice, left and right.
Both hands were jarred as my blades encountered ribs, and I was forced to retreat, keeping my arms relaxed at my sides as I danced backwards, watching the eyes of the creature carefully, reading its intent. I sensed itsuncertainty and moved in fast, stepping inside its defences, burying my right blade to the hilt beneath its ribs, then slashed my other blade across its throat.
It screamed, then dropped to its knees, blood gushing onto the boards. It twitched a few times, then sprawled forward, dead.
The Genthai warriors came to their feet and began to applaud what I had done. The sobbing child was released from the chain and carried away; the daggers were taken from me. Someone led me back to my place. As Isat down, the warriors did the same.
I felt no sense of elation, but I had saved the child. The werewight had been cheated of its prey. I watched the corpses being carried away and sawdust being thrown down.