Chapter 35: Her Name Is Death
The tradition of the fighting pits, or the Pits as they had come to be called, was centuries old. One could not travel through a town or village without finding at least one circular pit dug into the ground where local folk could gather and watch violent combat.
Doctor Johnston and Demenik approached the gates. A long line had formed but the doctor led them to a side door where they were given immediate access.
"You get special treatment, I see."
The doctor nodded. "The Pits and I go way back. It is an excellent place for a physician to work his or her trade. Healing fighters so that they may retain their strength and fight again is a skill that the Pit Masters pay well for, and I have always been skilled at my trade."
Originally, Pit fighters had been free men and women who used the venue to display their skills or challenge each other to resolve arguments, but growing demand for entertainment had resulted in the Pits becoming its own industry. Now, less than ten percent of the Pit fighters were free citizens. The majority of fighters were slaves owned by investors called Pit Masters, wealthy men who spent incredible sums of money to purchase and train fighters in hopes of earning large profits.
The doctor's pace was brisk but Demenik was slower. The doctor paused and waited for Demenik to catch up. "Have you not been in the fighter's area before?"
"I've never been to the Pits before."
"What? Are you joking with me?"
"No."
"I don't understand how that is even possible. Everyone comes to the Pits."
Demenik shrugged. "I've been busy. When I had the time, I was too poor to bother and, now that I can afford it, I have other matters to fill my day."
"Would you like a proper tour?"
"Not particularly."
"Okay." The doctor shrugged and began walking once more.
"Ricin is a free man, right?"
"Yes. The free fighters have their own preparation area. That is where we are going now."
They walked for another ten minutes, passing through guarded gates and entering hallways that looked the same as the ones behind them. Finally, the doctor turned right and approached a dark wooden door. He opened it and walked into a large room containing a circular dirt ring in the centre surrounded by benches set ten feet back from its outer edges. The ceilings were twenty feet high and sunlight streamed through grate-covered squares cut out of the roof above. Men sat on the benches, some donning armour, others stretching their muscles or wrapping cloth strips around their knees or ankles. Some sharpened blades while many practiced moves with daggers, swords, quarterstaffs, and other weapons.
The doctor scanned the room, then walked towards a dark-skinned man sitting at one of the benches. The man saw them approaching, smiled, and stood. He was taller than Demenik by a head, which made him six foot five inches at least. Large muscles glistened beneath his dark skin which was bared except for black leather pants and strips of the same black leather tied around the tops of his biceps.
"Ricin, it is good to see you."
The two men clasped forearms. "It is good to see you as well, Doctor." There was a trace of an accent, but it was very faint. "You bring another with you today."
"Yes." The doctor turned to face Demenik. "This is my very good friend and business associate, Demenik Wrathen."
Ricin smiled. It was a genuine expression conveyed not only in his mouth but also by the sparkle in his eyes. "I am pleased to meet you, Demenik Wrathen. The doctor is a great man. I expect that he keeps friends who are of the same calibre."
Demenik clasped Ricin's hand. The cords of Ricin's arms were hard as steel beneath his skin. "I am pleased to meet you also, Ricin. The doctor tells me you are a remarkable fighter."
Ricin shrugged. "I am still alive, victory coin fills my purse, and I feel strong enough to fight today. This is enough for a simple man as myself."
The doctor removed his jacket and placed it on the bench. "May I inspect your wound?"
"Of course, Doctor." Ricin removed the wrap from his right arm to reveal a dim pink scar, three inches long.
The doctor shook his head. "Come look at this, Demenik."
Demenik leaned forward. "A well-healed wound, Doctor. Good work."
"He received this cut two days ago. It should be scabbed and still fairly fresh."
"That's not possible." Demenik frowned. "It looks as if it has healed for months already."
Ricin smiled, his perfect white teeth contrasted by his dark skin. "In weeks, the scar will be gone. Kandar warriors heal quickly."
"Incredible, is it not, Demenik?" The doctor slapped Ricin's arm and the warrior began to wrap the leather band back into place.
"Yes, it is."
"Simple magic." Ricin grabbed a belt from the bench in front of him and wrapped it around his waist. "Will you watch my fight today?"
"Absolutely," Demenik said.
"This is Demenik's first visit to the Pits."
"In this city?"
"Ever."
Ricin's eyes widened and his smile returned. "Then I will make your first day a special one. I face a very strong opponent. Bet on me today, Demenik, and you will gain much profit."
The doctor harrumphed and shook his head. "I have studied the match-ups. Ricin faces three opponents today, not just one."
"To a Krandarian warrior, the numbers do not matter. One, two, ten." Ricin shrugged. "I do not worry about simple things like that until I stand before them. The opponent I speak of is always the same creature. Her name is Death, and today I will defeat her as I have done each time she comes to claim me."
"Is the battle to the death, then?" Demenik knew that many matches in the Pits were not to the death. Most concluded when first blood was shed, or until one combatant took a knee, or any other number of conditions. Death matches were rare since it involved the loss of an asset for a pit master. The rewards, however, for the winner were large, and a death match drew the crowds like no other contest.
"It is." The doctor's expression was grim.
Ricin saw the look and laughed, tapping the older man on the shoulder. "Do not worry for me, Doctor. I will be victorious and we shall speak after the fight. Perhaps I will be kissed by enemy steel so that you may administer to me."
"I would be pleased if you require no medical attention after the fight."
Ricin smiled. "As you wish, Doctor." He nodded at Demenik. "It was good to meet you, Demenik. Now I must prepare for battle. Go, place bets on my victory and come see me after to congratulate me."
The two men left the room and the doctor led them down the corridor. "Let's go place bets and get to our seats."
"You look nervous, Doc."
"If Ricin dies today, my opportunity dies with him."
"Don't worry about that. He will be fine."
"You say that as if you know for certain."
"I will bet five hundred gold on his victory."
"Are you serious?"
"About money?" Demenik smiled. "Always."
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