The next light at Stacks began with Newton Tilt, a tall, muscular, eighteen-session-old Dactyl coming over to me to congratulate me on my victory.
‘I’m glad you beat that bully Loon,’ he said with a wide smile. He lowered his voice. ‘You have a friend in the Tilt family, Vega, never fear. Done me heart good to see you tell Krone off like that.’
I smiled and thanked him and watched him walk off, my heart growing warm.
The next round of competitors would be posted at the first section of night. If I drew Delph, I didn’t know what I would do. I thought about us making a run for the Quag now. That would prevent them from taking my punishment out on Delph. Yet something held me back. Well, it was quite clear what was holding me back. I had given my word that I would fight my hardest in the Duelum. That had been my deal with Morrigone. She was not my favourite Wug. But a promise was a promise. I didn’t mind lying occasionally, particularly when it helped me survive. To go back on my word, though, that was something my grandfather never would have done. And neither would I.
I would never forget the look Thansius had given me when the marks were revealed on my skin. I just wanted to show him that, well, that I was an honourable, if not overly clean, Wug.
I looked up quickly when I spotted a shadow across my workstation.
Domitar was staring at me. I glanced up at him expectantly.
‘You did well last light, Vega – very well indeed.’
‘Thank you, Domitar.’
‘I won twenty coins on you, in fact,’ he added in a giddy tone.
I was very surprised by this, and my features must have revealed that.
He waved this look off. ‘I knew you would win. Cletus Loon is an even bigger idiot than his father.’ He toddled off, chuckling to himself.
The day passed by in a blur of boredom and toil, but finally I left Stacks and headed to my digs. En route, I was surprised to run into Delph. Then my surprise turned to shock because he was walking with the aid of a wooden crutch. There were pieces of wood tied around his leg to keep it supported and straight.
‘What happened to you?’ I said, eyeing his injured leg.
‘Creta broke loose from the wagon while we were loading it. Managed to catch the beast, but it broke my leg.’
‘But what about the Duelum?’
‘Tis over for me, Vega Jane.’
‘No it’s not. I can fix your leg in a jiffy, with the Adder Stone.’
He shook his head. ‘Menders already looked at my leg. They know it was broken. That’s why they splinted it up. How would it look if I showed up to fight all healed?’
I said slowly, ‘Oh, Delph, I am so very sorry.’
He cracked a grin. ‘Now you just have to win it, for both of us.’
The next light, I woke to find something licking my hand and I sat up and patted Harry Two on the head. When I looked outside my window, I saw Wugs streaming past in large numbers.
I took a sliver to realize what was going on. The Duelum! It was at second light. I was late. I jumped off my cot, nearly scaring Harry Two to death, and scrambled into the clothes I had let fall to the floor the night before. I stopped, looked down at Destin where I had also dropped it on the floor. With that I could defeat any Wug in the Duelum. One thousand coins. It was a lot of wealth, more than I would ever have. But it wasn’t the coins that mattered. Other Wugs would think highly of me if I were crowned champion.
Still I made no move to pick up Destin. I finally used my foot to edge the chain under my cot. I didn’t have to win the Duelum. I just had to fight my hardest. I also wanted to win fair and square. I was a liar, and a sometime thief, but apparently I had some morals.
It occurred to me that I had not checked the board last night to see who I would be fighting. I arrived as the bell sounded and looked quickly around. Was I in this set of bouts? I spotted the betting board and rushed over to it.
‘When do I fight?’ I cried out breathlessly to the Wug there collecting coins and doling out parchment in return. His name was Litches McGee. He was Roman Picus’s chief competitor when it came to the betting business, which was reason enough for me to deal with McGee, as I saw it.
He looked at me. ‘Second set of bouts, Vega, for the good it’ll do you,’ he said snidely.
Then I looked up at the betting board and saw there were fifty bets placed on my match. And not a single Wug had picked me to win. My gaze went across the wood to see who I would be fighting. When I saw the name, I realized why the odds on my victory were so poor – well, non-existent, to be precise.
Non. I was fighting blithering, bleeding Non.
McGee smiled at me. ‘Nae Cletus Loon this light, female. Say goodbye to that thousand coins, or me name’s Alvis Alcumus.’
I trembled with rage at his words. I stuck my hand in my pocket, pulled out the only coin I had and held it out to him.
He nodded approvingly. ‘You’re betting on Non, o’course. Make up for having your brains beat outta you. But with the odds so in favour of Non, it won’t be much you win.’
‘I’m betting on Vega Jane to win,’ I said with far more confidence than I felt.
‘You’re joshing, o’course,’ McGee said in an incredulous tone.
‘Give me the parchment with my name as winner,’ I said between clenched teeth.
He sighed, gave me a patronizing smile, wrote it out and handed it to me.
‘’Tis your coin. But like taking it from a nip of a Wug.’
‘Exactly what I was thinking about you,’ I retorted, but my spirits plummeted. That coin was my last. I had not a single bean to my name after that.
The first bouts this light went by more slowly than in the first round. The competition had become harder as the weakest fighters had already fallen. This gave me time to work myself up into a ball of nerves so tight I found I couldn’t even speak.
It didn’t help that word had got around that Delph had withdrawn from the Duelum. I knew his absence from the field would make Non a favourite to win, as he had narrowly lost to Delph in the last Duelum. This would only give that oaf more incentive to crush me, not that he needed any.
I walked around the pitch, swinging my arms and trying to keep loose. I wasn’t paying attention and knocked into something so hard that I fell back on the ground. When I looked up to see what I had hit, Non was staring down at me. And behind him was Cletus Loon, with his face all bandaged, several cronies of Cletus, and Ted Racksport.
Non wore his metal breastplate, the dent still there.
He smiled and bent down so only I could hear him when he spoke.
‘Luck dinnae strike twice, Vega. If I were you, I’d see to a bed at the Care before you step in the quad with me.’ He put a knuckled fist in my face and said in a loud voice, ‘Be sure and count all your teeth. That way you’ll know how many you have to pick up when I’m done with ya.’
Racksport, Cletus and his chums roared with laughter even as I picked myself up and walked off on jelly legs. I was wondering if I had time to go back to my digs and retrieve Destin when the bell for the second set of matches rang.
My mouth as dry as the bank of a dead river, I headed for my assigned quad. I had not previously looked up at the spectator platform, but now I did. Thansius was there, but there was no sign of John or Morrigone. Well, at least Morrigone wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing Non beat me senseless.
Harry Two followed me to my quad and I had to tell him in no uncertain terms that he could not attack Non while we were fighting. Then I whispered in his ear, ‘But when he finishes me off, have at the bloke and don’t leave much behind.’
Harry Two was now nearly ninety pounds and none of it was fat. And his fangs were nearly as long as my longest finger. He looked at me with what seemed like the greatest understanding. I believe he even smiled. I dearly loved my canine.
As I stepped into the quad, I glanced to my left and saw Delph shuffling up with his bad leg and crutch. He smiled encouragingly, but when he glanced at Non, who had stepped into the other side of the quad, I could see his encouraging look fade to a morose resignation.
I swallowed hard as the referee gave instructions. That’s when I noted that Non had not taken off his metal. When I pointed this out to the referee, he looked at me like he didn’t understand.
‘Unless he takes it off and beats you with it, female, ’tis well within the rules of the Duelum.’
‘And if he hits me with it and kills me?’ I said angrily.
‘Then he will be appropriately penalized.’
Non laughed. ‘But you’ll still be dead.’
‘Non!’ admonished the referee, a small, wizened old Wug named Silas. I suspected he had very poor eyesight, because he had looked at my belly button when addressing me and had looked to Non’s left when addressing him. ‘Let’s have a good, clean fight,’ Silas added, now staring at my knees.
Non cracked his knuckles. I tried to crack my knuckles but succeeded only in bending one of my pinkies back so far I cried out in pain. Non laughed.
The fight bell was rung and Non hurtled straight at me. I instinctively backed away, sidestepped Non at the last instant and poked one of my long legs out. He tripped over my shin, sending shock waves up and down my entire body, and he fell like a great tree to the dirt. I skirted away from him as he rose and whirled around, blood in both eyes. He came at me again and once more I dodged him. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep this up. At some point I would be out of puff. One punch, and I had little doubt I would go down. I once again lamented leaving Destin behind.
‘Stop mucking about, female,’ snarled Non. ‘You’re here to fight, not run like a skittish baby slep.’ But as he said these words, he was also breathing heavily. It finally dawned on me. The lout’s metal breastplate was very weighty, no doubt. Wearing it and having to chase me was tiring him out faster than he had anticipated.
He lunged at me again and I let him get within a gnat’s whisker before I leaped out of the way. My labouring with the bundles of rocks that Delph had made for me was actually paying off. I felt very light on my feet. And strong, even without Destin.
Non dropped to one knee to regain his breath and I took the opportunity to slam my boot into his behind, driving him head first into the dirt.
Delph yelled, ‘Atta female, Vega Jane!’
When Non regained his feet, I could see he was in a paddy, nearly foaming at the mouth. But, as with Cletus Loon, I now had a plan. It seemed that on the field of combat, I was becoming good at keeping my wits and employing tactics on the fly.
Non continued to chase me and I continued to keep just out of reach. I got a bit overconfident once, though, and his backhanded blow swiped across my head and knocked me more than three feet into the air. I tasted my blood as a great gash was opened over my left eye. I also believed I felt my brain bounce off both sides of my skull. When I landed, I rolled just in time to avoid Non coming down on top of me with his elbow pointed down, like Delph had once demonstrated. Instead of colliding with my neck, his bony arm hit the hard-packed dirt and he howled in pain and toppled forward on his belly. This time I did not let him get back up.
I tucked my hands inside the opening of the breastplate around his neck and pulled with all my strength. The breastplate came halfway off and did what I had intended it to do. It pinned his arms helplessly straight up in the air and his head was now inside the metal, so he was also blinded. I leaped up and came down on the back of the breastplate with both boots. Even though I was far smaller than he was, I still carried a big wallop when I struck. Non’s face was propelled not into the dirt but, instead, into the far harder metal of the breastplate. I did this four more times until I heard something crack and he screamed.
I jumped off him, grabbed the breastplate, pulled it completely off and coshed him on the head with it. There was a sound like a melon dropped from a great height hitting the dirt, and Non became very still.
Silas hurried over to examine him and then waved the Mendens over. I stood there, my breath coming in short bursts, my head bloody and swollen where his fist had connected, and my legs nearly numb from stomping on the metal. As the Mendens worked away on Non, Silas glanced at the breastplate, looked in my general vicinity and then glanced at the breastplate once more. He tapped his fingers against his chin. ‘I will have to look this up in the rule book,’ he said. ‘As I told you, the breastplate cannot be used as a weapon.’
‘By him,’ I blurted out. ‘He chose to wear it. It’s not my fault if he was stupid enough to let me get it off him and use it against him, is it?’
‘Hmmm,’ he said as he considered this.
‘She’s right, Silas,’ said a voice.
We both turned to see Thansius standing there. ‘Vega is right,’ he said again. ‘Section twelve, paragraph N of the Duelum Rules of Combative Conduct. Anything that an opponent wears into the quad can be legally used as a weapon against him by his opponent. In other words, he who brings into the quad what can be weaponized does so at his peril.’ He glanced at the prostrate Non. ‘An apt description in this case.’
Silas nodded. ‘No need to look it up. As a past Duelum champion many times over, your knowledge on the subject is far better than mine.’
Silas turned to me and held up my hand in victory.
I just stood gaping as six Wugs lifted a groaning Non on to a stretcher and carried him off. I hoped he later would be delivered to the Care, where no one would ever come and visit him. When Silas let my hand drop, I stayed there, unable to move. My paralysis was broken by Thansius, who gripped my shoulder. I turned to look up at him.
‘Well done, Vega – well done indeed.’
‘Thank you, Thansius.’
‘Now, I think we best leave the quad. The next bouts are about to commence.’
We walked off the pitch together.
‘Your fighting skills are quite ingenious,’ Thansius commented. ‘You sized up your far larger and stronger opponent and used his own strength and tools against him.’
‘Well, if I had fought him toe-to-toe, I would have lost. And I don’t like to lose.’
‘I can see that.’
The way he said it, I wasn’t quite sure if he thought that a good or a bad attribute.
He pointed to my face. ‘You might want to get a Menden to tidy you up a bit.’
I nodded and wiped at the blood. What with the dirty shot to the face I had taken from Cletus and now these fresh wounds, it was a wonder I could even see.
‘So, on to the third round with you,’ he said pleasantly enough.
I stared at him, wondering why he was even bothering to talk to me.
‘Do you really expect me to keep winning?’ I said.
‘I can’t say, Vega.’
‘But why would you even care?’
He seemed startled by the bluntness of my question. ‘I care about all Wugmorts.’
‘Even those accused of treason?’ I asked.
He flinched with this comment. ‘Your frankness is often spellbinding, Vega.’
‘I’m not a traitor. I had the book and the map, but I would never use either against my fellow Wugs. Never.’
He searched my features. ‘You’re a fine warrior, Vega. If all Wugs could fight as well as you, we would have little worry in case of invasion.’
‘Or Morrigone could simply exercise her considerable powers and vanquish the so-called Outliers in a sea of blue mist with one sweep of her graceful hand.’
I had no idea why I said this. And I did not know what his reaction would be to my words. But his response was unexpected.
‘We have many things to fear in Wormwood, Vega. But that is not one of them.’
I gaped at him, trying to decipher his words precisely.
He said, ‘Now, don’t forget to have your injuries sorted out. We need you at your best come the third round.’
He picked up his pace and was soon well ahead of me. I slowed my walk, suddenly grinned and bolted to the betting circle. There was a long queue, but this light I had a patience that was inexhaustible.
When I reached the front of the queue, I held out my parchment to Litches McGee. I expected him to be very angry, but he wasn’t. He gleefully counted out a great many coins from a very fat bag of them and handed them to me. I stared down at them in wonder. I had never held more than one coin at any one time, and then only briefly as it would quickly go to pay a bill or two.
McGee said, ‘I made a small fortune this light, seeing as how every Wug wagered against you.’
‘Not every Wug,’ said a familiar voice.
I turned to see Delph holding out his parchment.
As we put our coins in our pockets, I said to McGee, ‘So you’ll be changing your name now?’
‘What say you?’ he asked with a puzzled look. ‘Change me name to what?’
‘To Alvis Alcumus, you prat.’
I walked off chortling with Delph.
‘On to the third round,’ said Delph eagerly as Harry Two sidled up next to us.
I rubbed my bloody, swollen face and looked at Delph out of the only eye I could. ‘I’m not sure I’ll last.’
‘Just three more times and you’re champion,’ he said, smiling broadly.
Only I wasn’t sure I had many tricks or strategies left.
We were both hobbling along when a Wug named Thaddeus Kitchen, who worked in the Mill with Delph, came running up. He was breathless and his face pale.
‘Delph, you need to come quick!’ he gasped.
‘Why – what’s wrong?’ asked Delph, the smile struck clean from his face.
‘It be your dad. He’s terrible hurt down by the Wall.’
Kitchen turned and rushed off.
Delph threw aside his crutch and, bad leg and all, limped full tilt after him, with me and Harry Two right behind.