The Fall by Christie Meierz

Author:Christie Meierz
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: SF romance
Publisher: Christie Meierz
Published: 2015-04-15T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Humans filled the sporting arena in the human sector on Capella Free Station with their bodies, their voices, and, above all, their odors. Farric took shallow breaths, grateful for the treatment that he and his companions had received before leaving Tolar. It sufficed to render the smells tolerable. It did not eliminate them.

A wooden… roof… hung from the ceiling, well above the center of the arena. A human stood below it, dressed in ornate robes—they reminded him of the ceremonial robes his own people wore when they went before the Jorann, but with fewer layers of fabric. He positioned himself on one side of a ring perhaps six paces across. Two more humans entered the ring and threw a white substance. These men, large and wearing little else than a thick band of cloth around their waists that held a cloth covering their genitals, began a stylized dance, facing each other across white lines drawn in the ring’s sand, raising empty hands and stamping their feet. The robed man participated with stiff postures.

Farric and Bertie sat on thin cushions in the front of a square near the ring, with two guards on high alert to each side of them. Human bodyguards, here at his friend’s behest, lounged on cushions to the rear of the box, their relaxed attitudes a deception, along with several Den builders wearing the medallions of station security. All the guards, his own, the human, and Den alike, watched everything except the men posturing in the ring.

“What does this ritual signify?” Farric asked of his companion.

Bertie sat up straighter and leaned forward, a stray lock of golden hair slipping free of the black ribbon tying it back. He pushed it behind his ear, pale blue eyes fixed on the ring. The irony had not diminished of finding such eyes on a man who had become Farric’s closest human ally.

“It’s ancient,” the human replied. “The white stuff they’re throwing is salt, to purify the ring. The foot-stamping drives away evil spirits.”

“Interesting.” Farric shook his head. “They appear strong.”

Bertie laughed. “They are. That’s the point. Just watch. They’re almost done with the ritual.”

The smaller of the two large men caught the other’s eye and bounced on his heels, chin lifted, before returning to his corner for more salt. Laughter sprinkled through the crowd, but Farric sensed doubt enter the larger opponent, though it did not show on his face. The physical control impressed him; humans tended to allow their bodies to reflect their thoughts.

“The smaller one will prevail,” Farric said.

“Not likely. He has far less experience.”

“Even so.”

Bertie snorted. “Care to wager on that?”

“I have no coin.”

The human aristocrat gave him a sidelong look. “If you win, I introduce you to some very unofficial trade connections.”

“And if I lose?”

“Hold that thought.”

The wrestlers lunged, slamming into each other with a loud smack of skin on skin. The shorter man got his arms underneath and gripped the material wrapped around his opponent’s waist. The ornately-robed referee dodged around the ring’s perimeter, calling out in a language Farric could not understand.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.