Page 16 of The Ballad of a Bard

She stole leftover rolls and chunks of meat from abandoned plates, gorging herself on whatever she could find and even going so far as to consume the remainder of ale left in some of the cups. It was far from good, but it was enough to satisfy her craving hunger. She knew she couldn’t remain for too long, because she didn’t want to leave Cobalt alone.

Crimson slunk closer, finding her way to the counter and hiding behind the hunking male that whispered, “Steel cutlass.”

The woman nodded and led him away, as Crimson took up his place and eagerly awaited her turn. When the barkeep returned, without the man, she squinted down at the small female before the counter.

Crimson wasn’t short by any means, taller than most girls in fact. But the counter rose off the floor at least a foot, and the woman was nearing six feet herself. She stood on her toes, leaned in and uttered the same phrase that the previous customer had.

For a second, she wondered if she’d misheard him or gotten the password wrong.

But then the woman pushed off the bar and came around it. She opened her mouth and asked, “Are you one of Roland’s new girls?”

Crimson had no clue who Roland was or what hisgirlswere. But if it got her inside the secret door, to find out whatever was happening below the tavern, then she would do whatever it took. Especially if it meant finding a way to provide a better future for her and her brother.

“Yes.” She answered hastily.

“I swear he hires them younger and younger every year.” The barkeep grumbled but ushered for her to follow. “Just be careful with the extra handsy customers.”

Crimson watched as she led her into another room and opened a panel in the wall that wasn’t there before. The woman gestured for her to enter, so she did.

That’s how she found the Pits, and with it- the Blades of Blood.

Seven

She wasn’t entirely sure where to look first.

There was so much to lookat.

Within her first step past the long staircase that was tight enough to give her chills, thanks to her fear of confined spaces, there was a massive crowd gathered before her. She could hardly make out what they were all watching and roaring at as she wedged past a few bodies.

Crimson slipped towards the barrier, where a thick stone wall sat, guarding the edge and preventing anyone from accidently toppling over it. It rose four feet tall and was at least six inches thick. She glanced over, finding that she was on the middle level of the underground chamber, another above her and below her. With the style of the men surrounding her, she could easily guess that they were from the Silver Gate.

But that wasn’t what caught her attention.

The arena embedded into the lowest level was.

Because within the sandy pit, there were two fighters who relentlessly went after each other. One was dressed in scale armourthat made him appear like a dragon in a fairytale whilst the other was clad in head to toe leather. Steel studs kept the plates in place but allowed him to move freely, without any issue.

A wiser choice, she thought.

Crimson caught the shimmering flash of coins and immediately swivelled her head to follow the glint of gold. Four crowns passed from one hand to another, a slip of paper following in return.

Gambling.

They were betting on thefighters.

An illegal thing to do, in any of the three gates, but forbidden things were only sweeter. Money was money; something she desperately needed.

She ducked under the bannister and followed the trading coins, desperate to learn how she could get her hands on some. She followed the second set of stairs down into the ground floor, watching from the side walls as the men attacked and countered. They were both fantastic, from what she could tell. But then again, she had no knowledge of the sport of war and bloodshed, let alone how to even wield a weapon.

Crimson found the man who offered up the scrap of parchment and tapped his shoulder lightly. He rotated and as soon as he saw who touched him, a nasty sneer pulled onto his round face. A curve of hair lined his jaw, above his lip, across his chin.

“What do you want,girl?” He hissed down at her. “You know you aren’t supposed to be in here.”

She instantly pulled the name that allowed her into the pits in the first place out of her mind. “I’m one of Roland’s girls.”

“Ah, a new hire then?” His face fixed into a mask of pleasantness that anyone else might have bought, but she most certainly didn’t. “What do you need, then?”

Crimson cleared her throat and tucked any ounce of nerves away as she inquired after the battle. “How does one enter the arena?”

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