Emily Rodda - The Shifting Sands

“They took our key,” said Barda grimly. “And they left this in its place.” He showed them the paper he was holding.

The companions looked around them. The hallway was silent. None of the doors had opened.

“Well?” Lief asked, after a moment. “What are we to do about this?”

But he already knew the answer. He could feel himself simmering with anger. He could see the fire in Jasmine’s eyes, and the stubborn set of Barda’s jaw.

“Whoever attacked us made a mistake,” Jasmine said, loudly enough for anyone listening to hear. “Whatever we may have thought before, we will certainly now not be running away from this contest.”

“And it will not be we who will regret it!” Barda added, just as loudly.

They walked slowly to the door marked 77. It opened when Barda turned the knob and they went into the small, neat room beyond.

It was light and bright, with a gaily colored rug on the floor, but the barred window made it look like a prison cell. The only pieces of furniture were three beds with bright red covers and a small, heavy cupboard.

“Whoever has taken our key thinks, perhaps, to make us lie awake all night, fearing attack,” muttered Lief.

“Then he is foolish,” Barda snapped. “We will sleep well. We will fear nothing.” He put his shoulder against the cupboard and pushed it against the door.

With relief they fell on their beds and slept. As Barda had predicted, they slept soundly. If there were any small sounds outside their door in the darkness of the night, they were not disturbed. They slept on, safe in the knowledge that no one could enter the room without waking them.

But, as Barda had said, they were very tired, and were thinking slowly. Focused on the danger of attack, they had forgotten one thing.

Just as a key can unlock a door, so it can lock it. When the wakening bell rang in the morning and they moved the cupboard aside they found the door locked fast.

Their unknown enemy had found another way of seeing that they did not win in the Games. He had decided to prevent them attending the Games at all.

For a long time they shouted and beat upon the door, but no one came. Finally Barda charged at the door in fury, trying to burst it with his shoulder, but the wood was thick, the lock was heavy, and his efforts were of no use.

At last they admitted defeat and flung themselves back on their beds.

“We were fools not to expect this,” Barda panted.

Jasmine was silent. Lief knew that she was fighting panic. For Jasmine, being imprisoned was the worst sort of torture. After a moment she sprang to her feet and ran to the window, shaking the bars and calling loudly to the blank sky. But the wind snatched her cries and blew them away unheard.

“Could Kree fit through the bars?” asked Lief. Jasmine shook her head, but the question had given her an idea. She snatched the cover from her bed and pushed it halfway through the bars so that it flapped in the breeze like a flag.

The second bell rang. Time dragged on. Lief gritted his teeth. How their enemy must be laughing at the ease with which they had been tricked.

Suddenly there was a sharp knock at the door and the handle rattled. They all shouted and immediately heard the sound of a key in the lock. The door swung open to reveal Mother Brightly, wearing a bright red dress and a sunbonnet tied with green and blue ribbons. Her cheeks were flushed and she was very short of breath.

“I was just leaving for the Games when what did I see but one of my coverlets flapping from a window!” she exclaimed. “I could not believe my eyes, and came running at once.”

Quickly Lief, Barda, and Jasmine explained what had happened. The woman listened with many exclamations of horror and dismay.

“Oh, I am ashamed that this has happened at my inn!” she cried. “I hope the upset will not affect your performance. I have told everyone that I think you will be finalists, at least.”

“But — is it not too late?” Lief asked.

Mother Brightly shook her head decidedly. “Not at all!” she snapped. “Follow me.”

Leaving Kree and Filli behind in the room, Lief, Barda, and Jasmine followed the woman down the stairs to the empty dining hall. There she served them food, and great mugs of foaming Queen Bee Cider. “Eat and be strong,” she said fiercely. “We will show your spiteful enemy that Mother Brightly’s favorites are not to be trifled with!”

When they had eaten and drunk their fill, she led them through the training rooms at the back of the inn, along a covered walkway, and into an arena. The Games Opening Ceremony was still in progress, and many heads turned to look at the newcomers. Barda, Jasmine, and Lief lifted their chins and ignored the stares and whispers.

“Good fortune!” Mother Brightly whispered, and bustled away, leaving the companions alone.

The arena was a large, round field of sand surrounded by rows of benches that rose, tier after tier, high into the air. The benches were crowded with people, many of them waving red, green, and blue flags bearing the gold medal that was the symbol of the Games.

The competitors, clustered together on the sand, raised their hands, pledging that they would fight as well as they were able. Among them, easily seen because they were so tall, stood Joanna and Orwen. The scar-faced stranger was there also, not far from where Lief was standing. A ragged piece of cloth was knotted around his neck like a scarf.

Was it protection from the sun? Or to hide a wound made by Jasmine’s dagger in the hallway last night? Lief’s fist clenched as he raised his own hand. All his doubts and fears had disappeared. Now he was only angry, and determined to show that he could not be defeated so easily.

Soon afterwards, pairs of names were read out, and the contests began. The rules were simple. All the pairs fought at one time. Each pair fought until one could no longer stand.

The loser was taken away. The winner, after only a few minutes’ rest, was paired with another winner to fight again, for endurance was considered as important as strength, agility, speed, and cunning.

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine soon learned that the idea of a fair contest played no part in the Rithmere Games. Competitors fought with savage fury, biting and clawing, butting with their heads and tearing at their rivals’ hair and eyes, as well as punching and kicking. Nothing was forbidden except the use of weapons.

The crowd roared, waving their flags, urging their favorites on, hissing and booing those who did not fight well. Sellers of sweetmeats, hot food, and Queen Bee Cider did a fine trade as they wandered up and down the aisles between the seats, shouting their wares.

As more and more defeated competitors left the arena, disappointed and nursing their injuries, the space between the struggling pairs grew greater. Each fight was harder than the last, but Lief, Barda, and Jasmine managed to survive every round.

Unlike most of their rivals they were used to fighting for their lives. They had all learned much since they first met in the Forests of Silence. But even their early training helped them now.

Not for nothing had Lief spent his childhood on the dangerous streets of Del. As Barda had told Mother Brightly, he could dodge and run with the best, and use his wits to foil enemies far bigger than himself. He was young, but because of his work with his father in the blacksmith’s forge his body was strong, his muscles used to working hard.