The Unfortunate, стр. 66
“I have never wronged you,” Gildas persisted and attempted to lunge forward, only to be hindered by the chains.
“No?” the advisor interrupted. “I have risen far above my status as you did. For the past year, however, I have sensed my authority is faltering, and there are individuals who pray for my downfall so they can take my place.”
Gildas knew what had been implied. “I have been called ambitious, but I do not pray for your downfall, and I do not desire your position.”
“But you would accept it if it were offered, no?” When the advisor did not receive a response, he quickly added, “I take your silence to imply you would, but I understand. How could you refuse the second most powerful position in Winnix?”
Still no answer.
The silence was a result of Gildas not being able to answer and not wanting to lie. He had claimed he was not power-hungry many times, but he also sensed that with the selling of his fighters he had entered a new phase of his life, one that possibly entailed a return to the nobility.
“Well,” Pleoh interrupted his prisoner’s thoughts, “I shall provide you an opportunity to claim my position. All you have to do, as you have often stated, is prove your worth.”
“’Prove my worth?’”
“Yes, via the blood sport which you have so vigorously promoted. Emerge victorious, and I shall relinquish my position.”
“And what if I refuse?” Gildas’ tone was cautious as if he did not entirely trust Pleoh.
“If you are not man enough to attempt what you have forced others to do”—the advisor countered—“then I can understand, but this is your only opportunity, the only chance you will have to live. It is your decision.”
He could not tell if the advisor had spoken true, but Gildas realized he had little choice. The Life After waits for everyone. If it was his time, then it was the will of Fate, and for this reason, the owner of the academy inquired, “Who will serve as my challenger?”
The advisor smiled before eventually replying, “All in good time.”
✽ ✽ ✽
The Life After waits for everyone. Gildas stood at the center of the fighting pit, but despite the uncertainty he was not fearful of death. Instead he was anxious for the fight to commence. Although it had been over a decade since he had last wielded a sword in battle, he was still overcome with a sensation all too familiar to warriors. It was the unnerving yet relaxing feel of holding a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. It was the unexplained rush and the feeling of invincibility that preceded each fight and provided strength to face any enemy. He transitioned from the rush of battle to recalling advice he had once offered when he was a warden of Winnix. We all experience fear. It is what a man does with fear that makes him a warrior. A warrior must acknowledge his fear and must embrace it. If you see fear as a weakness, then you will have already damned yourself to the Life After.
Gildas’ thoughts were interrupted by Pleoh’s announcement, and even though the only spectators were the mercenaries, the advisor still acted as if he were addressing thousands at the Dorstor Arena. “Your challenger is a man who understands what it is to be betrayed. He has suffered, and now he yearns for revenge. May I present Molan the Faithful!”
More like Molan the Hypocrite! Gildas chuckled to himself, but he regained his composure when the undersized Drunishman approached. “It has come to this?” Gildas inquired. “I took you for one with more honor.”
“You talk of honor after what you did with my cousin?” Molan cocked his head and spat in his former owner’s direction. “Piss on your honor!”
Gildas ignored the insults and calmly replied, “As I have already told you, I had no part in your cousin’s death. Gruagh had proven himself worthy enough to fight Awiergan. I gave him the opportunity to become my academy’s champion.”
The Drunishman dismissed the explanation with a scowl. “And as I already said to you, your words mean nothing to me!” He offered another spat, but before he could further reply, Pleoh announced, “BEGIN!”
For most of his life, Gildas had been involved with some aspect of fighting. He was familiar with numerous attacking methods, and he was, on most occasions, able to judge the strategies of his opponents. Despite this advantage but especially because his judgment had recently been deceived, he remained cautious as he and his combatant circled one another.
It was Molan who finally ended the stalemate when he lunged forward and swung his sword, but Gildas was quick to raise his shield, and he countered by spearing his blade toward his opponent’s midsection.
As expected Molan deflected the attempt with little hesitation, and the slow pace continued as both men tested each other. After a prolonged duration of unsuccessful attempts, the mercenaries became restless and displayed their discontent with boos. It was obvious they had been promised a fight more entertaining, and they wanted to see bloodshed.
Also having had enough of the stalemate, of the slow pace and the occasional spearing and casual deflections, Gildas was reminded of advice he had once received, thatwar has no laws. Yes, piss on honor. What place has it in a fight? He looked to Molan and smiled before kicking at the ground to cause a cloud of sand to impact the undersized man’s face.
In turn Molan expressed a cry of anguish and struggled to keep his eyes open, and with his opponent temporarily blinded, Gildas did not hesitate to attack, but the Drunishman somehow managed to avoid or even counter each stroke of death. Molan then managed to gain an advantage and force his former master into retreat.
It had occurred so quickly and had been so unexpected, Gildas had not