“A fine steed you have there,” the doctor said.
“That she is, the finest.”
“I’d advise you spend your time sat or lying down. The less aggravation to the wound, the better. This is where animals suffer, you see, hard to convince a sheep to stop moving around.”
“I wanted to see you.”
“There is little more I can do today. You must give it time.”
“Not about the leg. Well, not exactly.”
“Not exactly?”
“Infection. Can it make you… see things? You know, hallucinations.”
“Infections of the brain are known to cause such things. You have been hallucinating?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you experienced fever?”
“No.” Am I going mad? Too much time spent alone, maybe?
“What is it you are experiencing exactly?”
“Nothing. Just the alcohol giving me a fuzzy head is all. Just came to see the horse.” Silas patted Vala and walked away.
The doctor shouted after Silas. “I am not experienced in such areas. Perhaps a visit to a doctor in Bulov is in order. A carriage passes that way each morning.”
Silas didn’t respond. Only held a hand up as he turned the corner. Can’t go back there now, can I?
Mara stood at the wall of the courtyard. Eliot stared at him from the opposite wall. On the wall to Mara’s left Joseph, Balin, the boy who’d been beaten up in the mist, two others Mara recognised from yesterday and one that he didn’t, stood in silence. The bigger boy was nowhere to be seen.
On the right wall were seven Shadows, one of them sat on a chair, tapping the foot on its crossed leg like it always did. That must be him. Why does he get to sit down and no-one else? Mara looked across to Eliot. He looks pissed off. Why’s he always pissed off at me? I’ve never done anything to him.
Two by two, the boys to Mara’s left were called forward to fight. Joseph easily beat up the boy that Eliot had attacked the day before, while Balin was beaten by the boy Mara didn’t recognise. Balin always lost a fight if he didn’t win in the first couple of minutes. He was always too tired after that to be any good. The other two boys were much better fighters than Mara had seen. They danced around each other, dodging each other’s vicious looking kicks and punches. Finally, when the fight went to the ground, one made the other pass out with a chokehold.
Our turn. Mara took in a deep breath through his nose. I need a shit. If he hits me down there, I’ll shit all over the place. Everyone will laugh at me.
A Shadow leant down to the one on the chair, nodded its head, and carried a wooden box with it to the middle of the courtyard.
The Shadow on the chair stood. “Eliot, Mara, forward.”
It is him.
Eliot didn’t look so angry close-up. He was pale, sweaty, and had dark patches under both eyes.
The Shadow with the box stood between them. “Face your master.”
Master? Is that what they call him?
“You have been selected for open combat. A fight to the death.” The Shadow Master said.
Mara looked over at Eliot. Death? I have to kill him? The Shadow holding the box knocked Mara in the head with an elbow. Mara looked back at the Master.
“The loser shall pass to the next life with the ultimate shame. The winner will receive no congratulation, only the opportunity to continue life.” The Master sat.
The Shadow next to Mara opened the box to reveal two gold-handled blades. “Take your weapons.”