Brian Pratt - Fires of prophesy

“I’ll give you six if you can finish it by sundown tomorrow?” James offers.

Shaking his head, the man says, “I have another order that I must do first, but I can have it ready by day after tomorrow, for six.”

“Alright,” James says as he hands over three silvers. “I’ll give you the rest when I pick it up.”

Taking the coins, the man says, “Very well, day after tomorrow.”

James shakes his hand and then they leave his shop.

They make it back to their camp and spend a restless evening as they wait for the morning, and Tersa’s auction.

The sun no more crests the horizon before Jiron is itching to get going to the slave market for his sister.

“Relax,” Roland says, “the auction doesn’t start until two hours after sunup.”

“Still,” Jiron says as he resumes his pacing.

Once they’ve had breakfast, Jiron, Roland and James leave for the auction. Jiron sets a fast pace and the coins in James’ shirt that he had brought for the auction can be heard jingling with every step.

At the gates to the slaver’s compound, they find a line of people has already begun to form to enter. They wait their turn and finally pass through into the courtyard beyond.

They see that one of the platforms on the edge of the courtyard has been set up for the auction. Pressing through the crowd they maneuver to get as close to the front as possible. Jiron looks around at all the people waiting for the opportunity to purchase a living being and it just makes him angry.

Several slavers are already in position there on the platform, watching the crowd as the courtyard fills up. Each has a whip hanging at their waists. Jiron stands there impatiently for over ten minutes before a door finally opens in the side of the courtyard and a line of girls comes out. Jiron looks over at them anxiously but doesn’t see Tersa among them.

The auctioneer steps to the front of the platform and calls for the first girl to be brought forward. When she approaches the front of the stage, one of the auctioneer’s assistants removes the girls clothing. Standing there naked, she starts crying as they turn her around, showing her off to the crowd.

Once the auctioneer has spoken to the crowd, the bidding begins and James sees those in the crowd raising their hands. When the bidding is done and the girl is being led to the man who bought her, Roland says, “She went for seventy five gold.”

“Is that a lot?” James asks.

Shrugging, Roland replies, “I don’t know, I’ve never been here for this kind of auction.”

One by one they watch as the girls are brought forward, displayed and then sold. Once sold, each has a tether attached around their neck before being led off the platform to be received by their new owner. One girl collapses in a faint and has to be carried away. The onlookers laugh while some call out to the new owner as he goes to take his property.

The next line of girls are brought out and at the head of the line is Tersa, not looking nearly as nervous as the rest of them. James can see her searching the faces of the crowd, trying to find her brother, but isn’t able to.

When she is brought to stand next to the auctioneer and stripped, James thought Jiron was going to run up there, killing everyone. But to his surprise, he took it stoically and endured this so he may have her back. The bidding commences and Roland raises his hand to make a bid. It had been decided he should be the one to bid on her since he understands the language.

During the bidding, James watches Tersa as her eyes move from one bidder to the next in a hopeful attempt to locate her brother. He can see a slight uplifting at the corners of her mouth when her eyes stop their roving and settle on her brother standing next to one of the bidders. A slight smile escapes her as she stands there on the platform, knowing her brother is out there.

Roland continues bidding until all but a few are still with him. Then, from the back of the crowd, a loud voice says something and the crowd becomes positively silent. Looking back over the crowd, James sees a large man, easily a head taller than anyone else in the courtyard. Bald head and extensively tattooed, with two swords strapped to his back, he strides to the front as the crowd quickly parts for him like the sea for Moses.

All the other bidders are silent as the man strides forward, confident that she is his. When Roland doesn’t say anything, Jiron says, “Bid!”

“But…” he stammers.

Jiron, having picked up a little of the language after having listened to the bidding, shouts out a bid in their language.

The crowd collectively catches their breath and the auctioneer pales. The giant of a man suddenly stops and turns to see Jiron staring fiercely back at him. He cries something out and again the crowd gasps.

“What’s going on?” James asks.

“That’s a Parvati,” he says, “terrible fighters.”

“And?” Jiron asks.

“They have a custom that is supported by the Empire,” Roland explains. “They may call for a blood duel if anyone crosses them.”

James looks shocked by that, “Why in god’s name would they support a custom like that?”

“They serve the Empire loyally and fiercely,” he explains. “That’s why no one crosses them, those that do, die.” He looks at Jiron and says somewhat nervously, “He has called one on you for challenging his right to this slave.”

Jiron looks over at the Parvati and sees him staring back at him. The crowd begins to widen into a circle, a wide circle.

“So now…” begins James.

“Jiron must fight him, right here, right now,” he finishes. Looking to Jiron, Roland says, “You have no choice in the matter and it’s to the death.”

Jiron looks toward Tersa, who is standing there on the platform, uncertain now that things are not going exactly as she had anticipated. He removes his excess native attire and with a glance to the waiting Parvati, he pulls his knives and advances.

“Good luck,” says James.

“Thanks,” Jiron says nonchalantly, “just like back in the pits.”

As he advances, the Parvati draws both swords, one slightly shorter than the other. Not nearly as confident as he’s making out, Jiron sizes up his opponent as he would in the pits.

When he’s within about six feet of the Parvati he stops and waits for the attack. Knives are no good against an opponent who’s prepared and waiting for your attack, you’ve got to get them moving so an opening will present itself that you can take advantage of. Those in the pits who failed to learn that didn’t last too long.

With a roar, the Parvati slashes with his longsword while keeping his shorter one close for defense.

Jiron dances back and lets the sword pass by in front of him, mere inches away, never once taking his eyes from the Parvati’s.

The Parvati studies Jiron and then begins a series of attacks using both the long and short sword.

Jiron easily deflects each blow, trying not to absorb too much of the impact. He’s good, but not the best I’ve seen, Jiron thinks as his knives move to counter each attack.

The Parvati stops his attacks and steps back as he stares in disbelief at the little man with the two knifes. The expression on his face says he doesn’t understand why Jiron is still standing.

Again the Parvati closes to attack Jiron and launches complicated pattern, using attacks and feints to try to get within Jiron’s defense. Unable to breach it, the Parvati begins growing frustrated at not being able to kill this upstart. Suddenly, pain erupts from his left outer thigh and he’s shocked to see blood beginning to well from a shallow cut that Jiron had managed to land.

The crowd gasps, utterly surprised that this man with knives against swords had managed to draw first blood, especially against a Parvati.