Page 24 of Rise of a Fallen Man

“That was intense,” I exhaled.

“Rather barbaric.” Mother flinched, vigorously working her fan again.

I wished to believe with all my heart that the men whom Falo had sent into the river of fire were alive and well. It was all a show after all. The danger looked so real, but that was what made the games so exciting.

“Why do it then?” I asked the queen. “Why have the games at all? The crown is the owner and the biggest supporter of them.”

“Well, look at the crowd, my dear.” Mother waved her fan at the rows that were filled to the brim, with not a single vacant seat left among them. “People are drawn to violence. Sadly, it is a part of our nature. Isn’t it best to satisfy their craving here, in the environment we can control, than let it spill into the streets where innocents may suffer?”

The real question was why were people drawn to violence in the first place? What excited us about watching men put their lives in danger? Why did we so easily accept that they might get hurt or even die for our entertainment? The crowd in the arena didn’t just accept it, they demanded that thrill.

I had no answer to that. No explanation.

“I suppose it is, Mother,” was all I said.

If Prince Leafar overheard our conversation, he didn’t show it. The prince remained silent, as a well-raised man would when women talked in his presence.

Once all the flowers had been picked up and Falo finally left, followed by screams from the adoring crowd, the games master entered the arena.

She walked toward its center, her hips swaying in her wide skirt of multi-colored ruffles. The hem of the skirt reached the top of her short beige boots with kitten heels and floral embroidery on the side. A wide frill of her blouse draped around her bare shoulders, and a bright scarf was tied around her head with its long, fringed ends hanging down her back. A black coiled whip was clipped to her belt, and she carried a hollowed, varnished rhino horn in her hand.

Two gladiators followed the games master. Neither of them was Salas, I noted with a pinch of disappointment. When she stopped, the gladiators crouched down on each side of her. Hugging her legs, they lifted her to sit on their shoulders.

The games master raised the rhino horn to her mouth.

“And that was our very own Yarnus, son of the Great Goddess Nus! Against all odds, he lives on!” Amplified by the horn, her voice reached far and wide.

The crowd caught her words and sent them high into the sky. The whole of Egami must have heard the thunder of support for Falo. The games master smiled triumphantly, soaking up their delight.

“But that’s not all, people of Egami. We have a mind-blowing surprise for you today!” she continued.

At that promise, the crowd’s enthusiasm leaped into a near hysterical. They clapped their hands and stomped their feet, bursting with frantic anticipation.

As the games master spoke, the two gladiators rotated slowly, making sure her words spread around the arena.

“My boys trapped a different kind of beast for you,” the games master announced.

A trap door opened in the floor of the arena, and a cage with bars as thick as my arms slowly rose to the surface.

“He comes from the high mountains where he wrestled bears before breakfast and hunted cliff goats for dinner. He drinksnothing but freezing glacial water and wears the fur of the animals he devoured. Ladies and gentlemen!” The games master threw her free arm up in the air dramatically. “I present to you the Mountain Bear!”

The cage was fully up now. It rotated on its platform, displaying the creature inside that truly looked like a beast.

It took a moment for the recognition to slam into me.

Salas!

A long, thick cape of ragged bear skins concealed his back. His helmet had been fitted with a row of chipped and broken animal tasks. Instead of pants, several layers of torn fabric were wound around his hips. On the left, the rags reached below his knee. On the right, they were shorter, leaving the scar from the burn on his thigh exposed.

The scar was a mark of the tragic night he told me about in private. Now, it had become a part of his costume, displayed for all to see.

“Behold the feral beast!” the games master shouted.

The gladiators set her down again. Then all three of them ran off the arena as more trap doors opened and more props rose to the surface.

Piles of rocks, tall trees, and sharp cliffs appeared from under the arena, quickly making the space look like a wild mountainside. There was even a real waterfall of “glacial water” that Salas supposedly drank.

From around the arena, cages clanked open, releasing brown mountain bears and white snow lions. They prowled the arena, sniffing the ground and climbing the trees.

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