Death Game by Stargate

Author:Stargate
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
Publisher: Crossroad Press & Fandemonium Books
Published: 2011-02-28T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The merchant ship did not so much glide into the port of the Holy Island as creep, sails reefed and oars out, making its way very slowly through the heavy traffic. Two great stone quays shielded the harbor filled with smaller boats, while above on the steep hillsides of the town, buildings clustered. The ones nearest the water were somewhat ramshackle houses of wood, but the ones higher up were stone, with painted columns and wide porches offering vistas of the sea that must be simply stunning. The highest tiers were reserved for palaces and temples, bright with red and gold paint. The symmetry and beauty reminded Radek of the Dalmatian coast, or possibly of how the islands of Greece must have looked in their heyday. He had never been to the islands, but perhaps it was like this—tier upon tier set in lavish greenery, while beneath it the blue sea glittered in the sun.

Certainly the scene looked like a spectacle out of Plutarch. Beside the largest quay, a massive galley with scarlet canopies was tying up while musicians played a fanfare. Soldiers marched off in gilded array, spears catching the sunlight, headdresses sparkling with gold. In their midst a number of officials walked, shaded by fans held by half-naked servants. Behind, in procession between lines of guards, others walked to the music of drums.

“What is all that?” Radek asked the captain.

“Tribute ship,” the captain said, glancing across the water. “From King Anados of Pelagia, to tell by the markings. The Pelagians always put on a fine show! They’re very rich, and the king likes everyone to know it. Of course that means their tribute is more too, so it’s not all good.”

It was indeed spectacular. Radek expected pacing cheetahs any second. It was something, he thought, to see these things as so few on Earth ever did, to see things that no one would believe even if he could ever speak of them. There was a bit to be said for going off world, really.

“Who are those people?” Radek asked, gesturing to the cluster of assorted people at the back of the procession between guards.

“Tribute,” the captain said. “They’re contestants in the Games.” He shrugged and went back to yelling incomprehensible nautical things at the sailors, who were trying to bring the merchant ship in to a smaller dock.

Ronon came and stood beside Radek. “Impressive,” he said.

“Those are contestants,” Radek said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt. “But something is not right there. That boy is very young. And that old woman? Surely she is not an athlete? It does not seem likely that she has wagered her life on a contest in a labyrinth.”

“They haven’t,” Ronon said flatly.

“Who?” Radek put his glasses back on again.

“There,” Ronon said, pointing, but the gesture was hardly necessary.

Toward the back of the procession among the others were two unmistakable figures—Sheppard and Teyla.

“Don’t react,” Ronon said, squeezing his arm.

“Right.” It was good to see them alive and in

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