Kings Game

Chapter 4 - Murder (1)

Time was a paradox for the rest of the week. The days went slow, crawling by, but the week went quickly, vanishing in an instant.

On the second day, Murrin decided that Roran was allowed food again, though just a few meager scraps from the bottom of a rations bag. By the fourth day, Roran was eating normal rations again. He hated it though, now that he'd tasted good food again. He ate the miserable rations solely to keep up his strength so he would be prepared for the upcoming fight.

Sephyr announced his intentions of fighting alongside Roran on the fifth day. Celine and Dorval we're miserable about it but Sephyr didn't care and Murrin was salivating at the prospect of more favors. He'd used up all of Roran's favors by the end of the fourth day. Sephyr didn't care either way. He wasn't interested in earning favors or sitting around waiting to die. He did what he wanted and was adamant that he was going to fight in the arena.

Toth didn't say anything, simply bumbling about the dungeon with a stupid little grin on his face. Nobody paid any attention to him. It wasn't worth it. Roran had tried to approach him once, to talk him out of competing in the arena, but Kamil had caught him and chased him away, accusing him of attempting to steal leftover rations.

There weren't supposed to be any leftover rations, but Roran decided not to press his luck. Kamil would probably throw a fit when Toth attempted to go with Roran and Sephyr and that would be the end of that.

Roran whiled away the time drawing patterns in the dirt and thinking about Kell's offer. If he joined her he might actually live, even if that meant a life in the arena. He wouldn't be able to make any money, not for himself. Murrin would take any and all income Roran was able to acquire.

The prospect of risking his life so Murrin could have money didn't bother Roran. What really bothered him was the idea of having to kill other people so he could make a living, especially other people like himself. He hoped that he wouldn't have to kill that many people before one of them killed him and he could finally be free of this accursed world.

The seventh day crawled upon them in an instant. When the provisions cart came around, Murrin made another attempt to beg more rations from them.

"Please kind sir," he started, "We're offering not one, but two of our finest young men to fight in your arena. Can't you spare another bag of rations for them?"

"Favors are awarded after participation," said the clerk, "take it up with the judges." He was used to Murrin's games by now. "Roll call will be in another hour, have your fighters ready to go by then."

Murrin harrumphed as the cart was hauled away.

Roran sat in his usual spot, focusing on his breathing. His mother had taught him a couple of breathing techniques to help him work through pain and stress. He inhaled deeply, holding the breath and listening to his heartbeat. After a ten count, he exhaled slowly, taking twice as long to release the breath.

Even after a week of being back in the dungeon he could still smell the stink and foulness of the place. The air had been hurting his lungs for the last week and he was desperate for that first breath of fresh air, even if it meant his death.

Celine was trying to talk Sephyr out of joining the fight. She may as well have been talking to a stone statue. Sephyr was cold and disinterested. Dorval took things a step further and came to accost Roran.

"It's your fault he's going, boy."

Roran ignored him and focused on his breathing.

"You're the reason he's going to die. Celine is going to lose her son and it will be because of you."

Exhaling, Roran focused on a dark spot on the wall. This wasn't the first time one of his kinsmen had taken out their frustrations on him.

"You're a worthless punk. Your mother should have gotten rid of you before you ever saw the light of day. The spawn of whores are nothing but trouble, you're nothing but trouble."

Roran briefly remembered Dorval visiting his mother but pushed the thought from his mind. In the distance, he could hear doors opening and closing. The wardens were coming to collect fighters.

"I wish I drowned you when I had the chance-"

Roran stood up and walked away from Dorval, heading towards the door. Dorval made some uncouth remarks behind his back but they meant little to Roran at this point. Celine cried out as Sephyr left her to come stand by Roran, waiting patiently by the door.

There was more clanging as the wardens collected more combatants. Not long now.

"Toth," Kamil's voice echoed throughout the dungeon, "What are you doing? Get away from them."

Roran and Sephyr looked back to see Toth coming to join them, a goofy grin on his face. Kamil was hot on his trail.

"Toth," she said again. "You don't need to say goodbye. Sephyr made his choice, just leave him be."

"It will be fine mom," said Toth, his grin stretching wider. "I'll make you proud."

"Toth get back here this instant!" Kamil tried to grab him but Toth was large and shrugged her off with ease.

"She's right, Toth," said Roran. "You shouldn't do this."

"Be quiet whore spawn," Kamil snapped, "nobody asked you. Toth, as your mother I am ordering you to get away from the door."

On the other side of the bars a warden had appeared. He produced a keychain and began fumbling with the lock.

"It will be fine mom, I'll win us a bunch of favors."

"Toth, don't you dare leave this cell!"

"Toth," said Roran, "This isn't a game. You really could die."

The door swung open and, before anyone could stop him, Toth hopped out. "I'm ready to fight in the arena."

The warden shrugged and looked at Roran and Sephyr. "Anyone else?"

"Yeah," said Sephyr, and he stepped forward as well.

Too deep in his own schemes to turn back, Roran followed after them. The warden swung the door shut behind him, slamming it in Kamil's face.

"Toth," Kamil screamed, "You get back here this instant!"

"Come on," said the warden, "Let's go.