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On my way to the bookmaker's tent I run into my old companion Combius of Juval. He greets me far less jovially than previously. #2 в контекст | | |
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"You convinced me with your idiotic talk of that young girl being able to fight. I put money on her." #5 в контекст | | |
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"Why did you say she could fight? Now I'm the laughing-stock of the Armourers Guild." #7 в контекст | | |
Combius looks hurt. For a sword-fighter, he always did have a sensitive side. #8 в контекст | | |
"Makrican fight. She's due back on the field any time now. I'm here to bet on her again. So should you, to make up your losses." #9 в контекст | | |
"Are you joking? My wife tallies up my accounts. It's already going to be hard to explain." #10 в контекст | | |
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I lay my arm ion his shoulder. "Combius, there's a time when a man has to make a stand for what he believes in. Only minutes ago I was engaged in some serious competition, and I didn't flinch. Anyway, you can make up your losses on Makri's next fight." #13 в контекст | | |
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"I've got a hard-won fifty gurans here that says she won't." #15 в контекст | | |
Big Bixo greets me like an old friend. "Come to try your luck again?" #16 в контекст | | |
I'd planned to bet my whole fifty gurans on Makri winning her next fight, but I notice that her odds for winning the tournament have gone out to two hundred to one. Having seen her first fight, the bookmakers give her no chance at all. I place ten gurans on this, and put my remaining forty on her winning her second fight. Bixo gives me six to one. Makri's opponent is a very strong favourite, at one to ten. As an experienced bookmaker, Big Bixo isn't about to mock anyone who's giving him money, but even so, I can tell he thinks I'm wasting mine. So do several others nearby. As Combius steps up after me, there's some barely suppressed derision. #17 в контекст | | |
"Now it's not just the Armourers Guild laughing at me," he complains as we leave the tent. "There were leather-workers in there. They're a snide lot at the best of times. I'll never live this down." #18 в контекст | | |
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"I'm sure some silversmiths were laughing as well." #20 в контекст | | |
I turn to my old friend. "Combius, what happened to you? I remember us charging into battle with one broken spear between us, and you weren't as worried then as you are now." #21 в контекст | | |
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"Put your mind at rest. You're in for a sudden windfall." #23 в контекст | | |
Next to the tournament field I manage to grab a private word with Lisutaris while Makri is preparing. #24 в контекст | | |
"Has Makri been taking anything she shouldn't have?" #25 в контекст | | |
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"She claims it was just a fragment she brought from Turai, and that was the last of it." #29 в контекст | | |
"Surely she couldn't find any more in Samsarina?" says Lisutaris. "Look how strict they are about thazis." #30 в контекст | | |
"Dwa's spread just about everywhere. It will be here all right, if you look hard enough." #31 в контекст | | |
Makri emerges from her changing room, clad in her armour. Behind us, someone laughs. It's Charius the Wise. #32 в контекст | | |
"At least it covers her ears," he says. "Mistress of the Sky, if you had to employ an Orc, shouldn't it at least have been a tough one?" #33 в контекст | | |
Lisutaris doesn't deign to reply, choosing instead to accompany me to the edge of the arena. I'm the only one allowed to accompany Makri into the fighting area, but Lisutaris has decided to remain as close as possible. #34 в контекст | | |
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"If you need inspiration, just remember the way I tackled these pies." #37 в контекст | | |
There are a few catcalls as Makri enters the arena, though I do hear one encouraging voice. General Hemistos, in the front row, apparently hasn't lost faith in her. #38 в контекст | | |
Makri's opponent, a Simnian by the name of Zetorex, turns out to be an extremely large man. There's something of a comic mismatch as they square up to each other. Before he drops his helmet over his shaven head there's an expression in his eyes that suggests he's insulted to be faced with such a puny opponent. The Marshal, brightly dressed in red, raises his flag. I walk swiftly back to the edge of the small field. As I turn to watch, the Marshal signals for the fight to begin. Zetorex leaps forward to attack. Makri catches his blade on hers, and uses his momentum to spin him completely round so he ends up facing in the opposite direction. It's the sort of fancy defensive move you might see attempted in practice, but one that would never work that well in real life. Except, that is, when Makri does it. Three seconds into the fight, Zetorex is facing the wrong way and the tip of Makri's sword is touching the back of his neck. That counts as a lethal stroke, and and the Marshal signals she's the winner. #39 в контекст | | |
There's some applause from the crowd, and some surprised laughter. So fast was the fight, and so unexpected the ending, that most people assume it was an accident. #40 в контекст | | |
"She got lucky," says one spectator beside me, and his neighbour agrees. #41 в контекст | | |
Makri sheathes her sword and walks calmly back towards us. Lisutaris and I congratulate her. #42 в контекст | | |
"You'll be fighting again soon," I tell her. "Get some rest while I hurry back to Big Bixo's." #43 в контекст | | |
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"Things are looking up. We picked up two hundred and forty gurans on that fight. With the original stake, we've got two hundred and eighty. I'm planning to put it all on Makri again." #45 в контекст | | |
Leaving Makri in Lisutaris's care, I hurry off to do just that. A bird is singing in a tree at the edge of the fields. It suits my mood, which is better than it's been for a while. Nothing like a successful wager for brightening the spirits. Big Bixo hands over my winnings with a sullen look on his face. I study the odds chalked up on the board. Makri is still an outsider, but not by so much. Bixo is offering five to two on her winning her next fight, and the odds on her qualifying from her group have come down to eight to one. I place two hundred and forty on her to win. #46 в контекст | | |
As it's generally a good idea to spread your bets around if you can, I take a walk down the field to the next bookmaker's tent, where the sign says 'Generous Ges, the Gambler's Friend.' Generous Ges is offering the same odds as Big Bixo. I place my remaining forty gurans on Makri to qualify from her group at eight to one, then hurry back to the arena. On the way I meet Combius, who's celebrating with a flagon of ale. #47 в контекст | | |
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