Engraved - The Hunted Warrior

Chapter 17 - Waiting

Gretch had watched the coloured tents all day from inside a neighboring tent. He had been forced to cover the woman and man's bodies with blankets to stop the flies getting to them. Even so the stink was nauseating. But he got what he needed when the crowd returned in the afternoon from the games. They were loud and joyful. At the head of the crowd were four prisoners - three men and a woman. He decided the thieves had to be the two young male barbarians - the tall one that looked more like a slave than a barbarian, and the shirtless one with short hair. The big laughing one wearing green couldn't possibly be the thief, and the woman with white hair... She was a complication.

That night he crept around the back of the tents, resolved to quietly cut his way in while they slept. But as he drew near a figure detached itself from the shadows and stood before him. His sword was drawn.

"What do you want?" Gretch whispered.

"Leave," Serik replied.

"It was you watching me the other night."

"Yes. Leave."

"I could cut you down like wheat." Gretch hissed.

"Yes. But not before I wake the entire camp. Do you think you could kill all of us?"

Instead of answering Gretch said "Do not follow me."

"You know I will."

"Then you will die."

"We must all die someday."

Gretch silently examined the man. Moonlight showed that he was far past his prime, but had the quiet confidence and readiness in his stance of a true warrior. There was no sign of either fear or arrogance. Gretch's priorities changed as he backed away.

First the old man, then the thieves.

Serik allowed him to leave and then cautiously followed.

***

Alam's days came and went in a steady rhythm of expectation and disappointment. Each morning he would wake up hopeful that he would see Shaleh. He would scan the onlookers while he and the other prisoners went through their morning drills; as they were transported to The Pit he gazed eagerly around the tents they passed; and reaching The Pit he would look up to the high position from which she and Nurlan had watched. They were never there. He would then focus all his attention on the game so that she would not be disappointed should she be somewhere in the crowd. Once the game was finished, and he was deposited back in his red tent, he would sink into misery.

The games became increasingly hard. Eventually a team of Astaevka warriors, placed behind two large barriers on opposite sides of the pit, were able to defeat the prisoners who were put between them with no cover. The Astaevka warriors hooted loudly as they claimed the eight bags of silver.

"This is a good day for us," Alam told his paint speckled companions as they were shepherded back to their tents..

"Really? How?" snorted Tajar.

"Now we know to avoid open areas where archers can kill us. We also know that we're not invincible."

"Yes, but that game was completely unfair," argued Tajar.

"Do you think Kirill will give us a fair fight in the final challenge?" Alam asked.

Nobody answered.

***

Day followed night, and night followed day, and still Serik trailed the large man in an endless game of cat and mouse. Both men ate little and rested less. Serik knew that he was no match for the wild man's speed and power. He also knew that he would run out of energy before the big man did. And when that happened he would be dead.