Chapter 10 - Bok Goes Down

Posturing is more art than skill. Posturing disarms the situation, it doesn’t escalate it. Done correctly, the effects are long term instead of the short term you achieve from intimidation, a totally different talent. True posturing lets others know what you will do, not what you are capable of. There is a big difference between a foe knowing you will kill him instead of knowing that you are capable of doing so. It should invoke a certain level of fear and respect, but not the blind terror which leads to rash decisions and foolish responses. I have seen times when a master of posturing so disarmed the situation that the potential adversaries didn’t even bother to take a stance themselves, they just accepted the danger should they act in an adverse manner and then chose the path of peace. Sometimes all that’s needed is to quiet the loudest voice.

I recall a story as a little girl when I was touring the palace of our leader with my class. On this tour one of the older kids, attempting to impress his friends, brazenly went up to one of the guards and impertinently asked, “What would you do if I grabbed for your weapon.” Without even pausing, the guard blandly replied, “I would kill you with it.” The response was so full of certainty that the kid just nodded quietly and went back to stand with his friends without so much as a single retort in return. The kid was backed down in a calm manner, egos were not hurt, and the kid was not fearful of the guard, only what would happen if he crossed the guard.

Proper posturing creates respect and fear of the consequence, never the individual- The Rat Queen

Lilith returned to the compound after arranging for her various contacts to start looking for the hapless runner she poisoned had earlier in the day. Lilith had a considerable spy network developed to help protect Corvain’s many business interests and was hoping it would be up to the task. As good as the network was, it had taken over an hour just to discover that the runner’s name was Lul-lan. It seemed that the boy had decided to squander the tip Corvain had given him in one of the many pleasure districts of Kraylin. Her initial reports also indicated that the runner was into various narcotics and was probably holed up in a smokehouse somewhere.

This was bad news cause if Lilith wasn’t able to find him before morning, he would probably be beyond the antidote’s recovery ability. Lilith decided to let her network continue working on finding the boy while she returned to check up on Corvain’s newest acquisition, resigning herself to the real possibility that Lul-lan would pass from the poison’s effects tucked into some out of the way room while in a drug induce slumber. It would take a real stroke of luck for her scouts to find him now and she wasn’t about to pay for a magical seeking. Corvain would be disappointed in her, but not overly upset. He might not even remember except in some passing moment which would quickly be forgotten as unimportant. She knew she could lie if he asked, however, Corvain was canny at detecting mistruths. Plus, he was one of those employer’s who liked to trip his people up, already knowing a minor truth and then asking to see if they would lie.

The new arrival intrigued Lilith. She investigated all of Corvain’s new arrivals to some extent, always looking for possible spies. The worst threat was an acquisition who still owed loyalty to another fighting crew, taking a paid fall at an inopportune moment. She was one of the few who knew about Kern’s activities in bringing fighters from the past. That made her investigations much easier with those fighters as it was difficult to be on the take from a crew that existed a couple hundred years in the past.

But something about Nash bothered her. He had survived an explosion that should have killed him many times over and his given story was a little to clean for her fancy. She knew he wasn’t being truthful, at least not completely truthful. That he had some secrets to hide didn’t bother her, everyone had secrets. But a nagging concern she couldn’t explain nagged at her. She knew the sources of that concern, the visiting priest of Kristor and lack of knowing exactly what her mission or purpose had been when she talked with Nash. Supposedly it had been in response to the spell Corvain had stolen from her temples. At least that was what the visit looked like on the surface. But the concern existed that there was more to that visit than a simple priest checking up on matters of her goddess’s domain. The priestess of Kristor had been a major priestess, not just some functionary.

His dark skin also raised her concern, for if he came from where and when he claimed, he would have been an oddity there also. She had seen dark-skinned humans before, but from only one place on the far side of the continent. As far as she knew, they were a very reclusive people secluded by geography more than anything. When she was a kid, she had seen an envoy visit from their capital city of Amaravati, and if memory served, that was about the first envoy to leave their desert kingdom to visit other lands in over four centuries. Everyone today who had mentioned how unique Nash appeared commented in a manner that Lilith interpreted to mean they had no idea or even a guess that dark-skinned humans existed, such was their rarity in this part of the world. The blue-skinned Zyloans were far more common in the ports. Of course, no one really gave it a second thought. After all, when there are over three dozen different sentient species roaming a city, the idea of worrying about a human’s skin color was absurd.

Thinking about this, she also realized a possible gap in their secret plans that she needed to address. Kern had been casting a manipulation spell on each of the arrivals from the past which prevented them from talking about how they had been plucked from the past. He wouldn’t have had time to cast such a spell on Nash. She would need to address this with Corvain first, however. Her thoughts were leaning toward killing Nash quickly to eliminate any future problems. Corvain ought to find this funny. Normally I advise against killing his problems each time he decides someone’s death is the perfect solution. He’ll probably say no just to spite me.

The day’s training session was just about over. The gladiators would be leaving the training grounds for their final meal and that is where she hoped to find Nash. Rounding the small hospital Corvain operated on his compound, she started down the stone path toward the training grounds.

The training grounds were in the lowest part of the compound with stair paths, dug into the steep outer walls, which descended into the large pit where the gladiators practiced and trained. The grounds were actually about double the size of the arena with a whole half of the field devoted to obstacle courses and tracks for horseback practice. The main advantage of having the training grounds so far down in a pit was that from the top of the surrounding dirt wall a full view of all activities could be seen. The wall was steep enough and the pit deep enough that no matter what building one stood in, one could not see down into the pit. This helped bar spies from studying the tactics or maneuvers which Corvain’s crew was working on. She well knew how important such spying could be, having helped Corvain’s men win countless battles by being prepared for some nasty ‘surprise.’ All of the important buildings to the training facility had been built into the surrounding earthen walls to increase the overall security along with an extensive network of spells layering the field to prevent magical scrying. Preventing such scrying attempts had been one of Kern’s major responsibilities.

Just as she was about to descend the pathway down the wall, she looked over and saw Bassil walking out of the barracks. Behind him in a simple white tunic and string sandals stood a tall ebony-skinned man. That must be Nash. He does look like the folk I remember seeing from Amaravati. Wonder what he will tell me when asked and I use the name Amaravati specifically?

Waving her hand, she yelled out “Bassil - over here.” Looking over, Bassil waved back and started heading her way with Nash following close behind.

As they approached, Lilith blatantly studied Nash with her goal being to keep him off balance, not to put him at ease. He was definitely tall and muscular. He moved with the grace and confidence of a good fighter, no slouch, and seemed to have good balance. That he seemed kind of subdued as he followed Bassil, not really looking around but more to the ground didn’t speak well for him. Like a horse, the best fighters were always confident and high spirited.

As they approached, he looked up at Lilith briefly, smiled slightly in her direction, then looked away and down again. Lilith was used to getting only brief glances from men, she dressed to encourage such dismissal and preferred it that way. When she dressed up to attract attention, she often got the same glance anyway, so dressing up not to attract came easily and didn’t leave her feeling so glum.

But in this situation, she figured that Nash was feeling either depressed at being out of place and time due to the circumstances, or he was possibly just dim-witted and uninterested in what was happening around him. So far Kern’s fighters had all paid off more than recouping the cost of Corvain’s investment for getting that particular spell. Lilith hoped this last fighter wasn’t a total waste, for though she knew she was more than a match for any single fighter here, she dreaded that Nash might not even survive some of the initial training with his attitude. He wouldn’t even be much more than a brief exercise were she to fight him.

“Greetings Lilith. Did you find the runner already?” Bassil asked.

“Nope, sure didn’t,” she replied, inwardly cursing Bassil. She needed the matter dropped, not brought up. “He is holed up somewhere in a smokehouse. More than likely, I will have to report failure in finding him before this Sunday’s fight.” Changing the topic, “I was actually looking for you two, Nash in particular. I haven’t had the pleasure.”

Nash looked up again, this time intently into her eyes, smiling a charming smile in the process. “Greetings, fair maiden. I’m known as Nash, and I am most pleased to meet your acquaintance.” Nash felt that an archaic greetings such as calling her a maiden fit these circumstances.

Lilith was an excellent judge of character and took an involuntary half step back before his gaze. It had been a long time since she had so misjudged someone, for Nash was not a dimwit. His eyes stared at her with such a knowing and intelligent look that she immediately revised her opinion and became more than a little wary. She herself had trained for years in how to walk among a crowd, concealing just how much in control she was by appearing to be the average non-descript person out an about, beaten down by life and just living day to day. She had seen that in Nash just a few seconds ago, but now knew it wasn’t true. True, she had seen people do that almost innately, naturally hiding their presence, never having learned it as a skill, but it was rare indeed for a person to display an attitude less then they were. This was just one more thing for her to worry at when considering Nash. That she found his exotic appearance strangely attractive and handsome didn’t help matters either while he was smiling at her.

Still, not missing a second, she responded. “I am Lilith, and you will have little need to ever address or converse with me.” She countered his charm with curt abruptness. If his meekness was an act, then him dropping it shows an encouraging lack of skill. A true spy wouldn’t allow themselves to be undone by the first woman they saw. “I am head of security for these estates and I choose to meet and greet all new fighters.” Turning to Bassil and dismissing Nash in the same matter of fact voice, she continued. “What preparations have been made to make sure our fighter here keeps the identity of his past secret?”

Somewhat scowling and frowning at the same time with his expressive face because he rarely saw Lilith act so cold, he replied, “Corvain was concerned but assured me its all ok for Nash has a good cover story and he knows the importance of not mentioning it. I believe it has already been handled.”

Nash interrupted, “If I may, it seems everyone I meet knows this great secret. Where I come from, a secret isn’t considered secret if more than a few people know of it. And I am not sure how easy it is to eavesdrop, but isn’t speaking about it out here in the open kind of dangerous?”

Lilith was put off guard by that and responded a little more than tartly “That would be mine, and Corvain’s, concern. Your concern is fighting, nothing more. However, just to stress if it hasn’t been already. Your life will be forfeit the next time I hear you bring this secret up, even if is with just us talking. Understand?” She realized she had been goaded into a stern response even as she was talking but carried on to get the message across, she wasn’t about to lose a battle of wills with a man, especially this man.

“I understand fully. If I mention this secret, even with just you again, I die.” Nash answered, stating each word as truth, but emphasizing the word secret and stretching it out just a little in such a way as to further irritate Lilith. Before she could respond he looked down briefly and turned his head to look toward the pit in which the training facilities were housed. Lilith chose to let this last slight go, not giving him the satisfaction, but she was just about ready to pull a knife and slay him on the spot. Just one more provocation. She was mad but containing it quite well. She wasn’t flustered. In a sense, he had called her threat a bluff and calmly threw it back at her. It was frustrating knowing that he had gotten to her and that her every response was just another small victory.

Bassil, totally oblivious to the battle of wills, piped in. “Are we ready to head down? I have shown Nash most of the areas he as a gladiator will be frequenting, all that is left is the training ground.”

“Yes, ready. Hopefully, they haven’t all wrapped up yet. I’m curious just how good our Nash here might be.” With that, she started walking down the path. Nash immediately followed while Bassil had to take a few hurried steps to catch up, not prepared for Lilith to start walking without waiting for the others to catch up.

As they finished descending the stairs, they passed a crude gate into the open area of the training facilities. Many of the fighters and trainers glanced over at the newest fighter approaching with Bassil and Lilith, sizing Nash up. Word had already spread of his black skin, so all knew exactly who he was. Lilith watched Nash out of the corner of her eye, saw him look up and glance around just once, taking everything in, before looking down again.

Bassil motioned over toward one of the trainers. “Jeteth, come here and meet Nash”

A tall lanky man, wearing a leather jerkin and a rapier scabbarded at his side came over. “Ah, Nash, greetings. I am Jeteth. While true that it is Bassil here who is one of the head trainers, only the best actually train with him. All new recruits are put through the paces first by me. So tell me, what are your skills and how good are you at the various arena sports?”

Nash didn’t know what sports were available to be good at. “I am decent at just about everything. I do excel at man to man fighting and at archery.” Nash replied, hoping that such a basic statement would suffice. Having seen the target ranges over to his left, he added the last in. If he could avoid fighting, the better.

By this time, some of the other fighters had wondered over to listen in to see what accomplishments their newest rival would be bragging about.

Jeteth smiled. “Simple answer. Almost shows of modesty. I hate modesty in my fighters so remember that. To be more specific, which weapons do you prefer and which types of fights do you prefer. Also, are you any good at horseback riding.”

“I am an accomplished rider of horses, though I don’t do tricks if that is what your asking. As far as fighting with weapons, I know most of them, but prefer to fight unarmed.”

The fighters and trainers laughed at this, Bassil included. No fighter fought unarmed unless he just had to. Some thought it might be Nash’s way of saying he preferred non-lethal fighting like wrestling. Such fights did not occur in Kraylin, blood ruled. Lilith was the only one who didn’t laugh cause she knew just how dangerous an unarmed fighter could be.

The largest fighter present, standing nearly nine feet tall and clearly not human, barked “Methinks it would be fun to fight this new fighter,” He then laughed, “I won’t even use a sword, just me stick, so he don’t get hurt too bad. I will show him not to like fighting unarmed.” Saying this, he took an eight-foot pole of dark gray wood he was carrying and slowly planted its end in the ground, glaring at Nash while everyone else broke out in a round of laughter.

For whatever reason, Nash wasn’t sure what was so funny but knew the situation well. He had to prove himself, and the large ugly creature that he was looking at would be the challenge.

Knowing that this break-in period of being verbally harassed was required for all new gladiators, Bassil decided he needed to step in just a little. Normally it was some of the other fighters that started the ritual, but this time it was Bok. Bok was an ogre and stronger than any three men. His tusked teeth, deformed face, and tattooed bald head made for a great attraction, but Bok was rarely allowed to fight one on one because of the mismatch. The other pit lords rarely agreed to it unless they had a similar fighter in their stables to match him. Bok usually fought the monsters and animals brought into the arena. In his fights of one on one, he had only lost once, and that had been to another ogre. In the rematch, Bok had slain the other ogre and having to be pulled off his defeated rival as he started eating his dead foes face. The crowd had went wild cheering that fight.

What really concerned Bassil was that Bok was prone to bloodlusts, going on a rampage and not just defeating an opponent, but mutilating them in the process, often beating on the corpse for several minutes after it was dead. Bok was really looking for a fight today, and his taunt of not using a sword was useless, he always used his staff. That was one of the reason the men were laughing, knowing Bok’s offer to use just his staff was a ruse. Bassil knew that Bok was just boasting, however, if the crowd worked him up, then Nash could easily end up dead.

“Sorry, Bok, but Nash here is not anywhere near capable of fighting you. If you want to see how good he is let me choose someone else.”

As Bassil was starting to look around for a good opponent, Nash said “I am in his league, have no fear. Bok and his little toothpick look like easy prey” He said this staring hard at Bok. If he was to be tested, he was going to pass it now. Bok looked to be almost all muscle, wearing very little except leather mail which left most of his shoulders, arms and legs bare. Nash hoped that Bok would be susceptible to nerve punches as his olive skin and bestial face indicated a nonhuman foe.

Bassil quickly started to say ‘no’, but instead was forced to yell “NO” as Bok reared back his head uttering a war cry and charged Nash. Everyone wisely moved out of the way, including Lilith. Her first inclination was to protect Corvain’s newest property but then decided that Bok killing Nash could be a good thing. In truth, she was doubtful if she was even up to taking Bok even if she had surprise.

Bok charged in to bull rush Nash, only holding his staff at his side, not at all intent on using it at first to pummel his opponent. Nash quickly darted forward, grabbed Bok's armor up high with both hands, and pulled his legs up dropping his body. His weight plus Bok's leaning rush overbalanced him, and as he started to fall forward, his attempt to grab Nash’s now horizontal body quickly became an attempt to catch himself on the approaching ground. Nash land in his back, and using the momentum put both of his legs into Bok's lower stomach pushing up. The whole somersault ended with Bok flying through the air fifteen feet, landing on the base of the stairs to the pit, and with Nash continuing his roll standing up ready to face Bok should he also get back up.

Bok immediately got up, his pride hurt far more than the throw. Ogres came with super dense bones and thick skin, a throw of twice the distance wouldn’t have slowed him down much. Angry as he was, bloodlust was only beginning to settle in. Bok was still a canny warrior. This time he would fight with his staff as he approached on Nash. He totally ignored Bassil and the other trainers crying to desist.

Lilith, by now, was impressed with the finesse of Nash’s moves. He was quite graceful, and she had definitely misjudged him earlier. Too bad he was about to die. She briefly wondered if she should warn him about Bok’s staff, but decided against it. No one else bothered to warn Nash either.

Watching them pair off, Nash was in a fighting stance she didn’t quite recognize and Bok was raring up to swing his staff. Lilith started to watch Bok carefully for she might one day need to fight him herself. She had only ever fought one ogre before and that was at the height of her training when she was still in the Yinkida sisterhood. That ogre had stood about a foot shorter than this one and had almost killed her. In fact, if some of her sisters hadn’t intervened she would have died. She had delivered a fatal blow to that ogre, just not one which would have killed it before it could kill her.

Bok moved forward first and then Nash moved forward to intercept when suddenly his head whipped around as if struck by an invisible force, his whole body gyrating and going airborne. As his first leg came down from his mid-air flight, his rear leg now spinning with the added momentum of the invisible blow, came up in a perfect back kick as he continued around. The kick was outstretched to maximum effect before he went down. Only Lilith noticed how great his form had been in recovery from the hidden blow, too bad it had knocked him so far back his leg was unable to connect with Bok. Amazingly, Nash seemed somewhat unaffected by such a hard blow, rolling to stand up again, slowly wobbling back and forth trying to regain his wits. Most men would be dead from that blow, and outside of a dazed appearance and a badly bloodied jaw, Nash had survived the blow. Not only that, he wasn’t unconscious. If she hadn’t seen how far it had knocked him back, she would have assumed that the strike with the staff had just been glancing.

Lilith mused on whether or not Nash could piece together that he had been struck with a ghostingwood staff before Bok charged again. Ghostingwood had the unique property of not showing motion well. When moved quickly, it just seemed to stay in place for a few seconds before catching up to where it actually was. A staff crafted from ghostingwood in the proper manner had the weight and strength of iron, making it lethal in and of itself. Such a staff became exceedingly lethal due to the opponent never knowing just where it was at.

Still dazed, Nash weakly put up his arms to defend agains the next attack.

Having stopped his attack to yell a victory cry, arms and head high looking to the sky, Bok’s war cry turned to a growl when he looked in disbelief at a standing Nash. Before Nash could fully recover, Bok was once again charging, this time not with intent to overrun Nash but to use his momentum to swing his staff into Nash’s side.

The dazed appearance on Nash’s face dropped suddenly. As Bok charged, Nash bolted forward to stand right next to Bok before he could even commence his swing. Nash didn’t understand how the staff worked, but he well understood the effect of the blow. He needed to counter before it started, not after in an attempt to dodge it. Turning and sliding into Bok so his back was up against Bok’s stomach, Nash braced himself and shot his left arm up to try and brace himself with Bok’s left arm which was preparing to swing.

Using all his strength and speed, Nash elbowed with his right arm into Bok’s upper stomach, getting a satisfying grunt as the breath was knocked from the ogre. Before even retracting his elbow, Nash then swung his forearm down with a fist crashing into Bok’s genitals. Using his left arm, now straight up between Bok’s outstretched arms which was holding the staff, Nash crooked it around Bok’s outer arm, jumped and pulled himself up sharply, cocking his head forward and then slamming it back into Bok’s face. With Bok’s head flinging back, Nash twisted again to elbow once more, this time with all the momentum from the jump added into the blow to Bok’s now exposed neck. Nash could both hear and feel the cartilage of Bok’s larynx being crushed.

Coming down to his feet again, Nash slid his left hand forward along Bok’s left arm past his hand to the staff and grabbed it. Stepping away from Bok and now that he had a firm grip on the staff he was able to pry the staff from Bok’s loosened fingers. Grabbing the staff at the end with both hands, twisting away to face him, Nash took his turn to swing the staff with all the force he could muster. Initially aiming for the jaw, he altered his aim to the temple, sending the ogre sprawling. Bok collapsed where he landed in a heap, unconscious and spasming as his body tried to suck air past his collapsed air passages.

Bassil quickly called for medics, too disbelieving to really be stunned. His foremost thought was rather pragmatic considering the situation: Would Corvain be pissed or delighted that his newest warrior had just bested and possibly killed a battle hardened ogre, literally with his bare hands.

Lilith herself wasted no time. She needed to talk to Corvain now. Quickly walking past Nash as she approached the stairs, she uttered, “Well maybe you can at least be good at archery like you claimed.” Walking up the stairs, she formulated in her head the exact report she would give to Corvain, foremost being her concern that a human warrior, having just felled an ogre, was behind her carrying a hundred-pound staff in one hand as if it was made of bamboo.