Book 3 Chapter 50: Simple As That
Zak stood at the only entrance to the gambling den, a wide stairway that had been blocked off with debris light enough that they could push it out of the way from the inside, but heavy enough to block the entrance from view just in case. He checked the balance of the new sword Hema had given him. It felt good in the hand, right, and he could feel the heat from it when he sent his will through it as Jayk had taught him years ago when they’d started making real money before getting thrown into the Pit.
He grunted to no one in particular, sheathing the sword at his waist and starting a long walk around the perimeter. He didn’t want to be there. He wanted to be on the surface, fighting with everyone else. He knew himself, knew what he was good at, and that was brawling. When Jayk or Dantes used him as muscle, he never minded it, knew his place, and was just grateful to have it. He knew that they’d given him the job to watch over everyone because they were certain that he was up to it, they knew he could handle any threat that came his way. That made him feel proud, but also uncomfortable. He wanted to fight, he wanted Vampa and Dantes to see what he could really do.
He completed a lap around the gambling den, and paused again at the stairs, scratching Dantes’s hound behind the ears for a moment. He listened for a few moments, but heard nothing, and started walking another lap. He could see Vera and the girls chatting, cutting bandages for Hema to keep busy. Alessa was nursing Jacque, and smiled at him as he passed. Felix was writing in a book, scribbling down sigils and other symbols almost frantically. Zak didn’t blame him for not wanting to be on the front, just like him, Felix knew what he was, knew his place. Zak looked at the other guards, smacking one on the side of the head that had been dozing as he passed. He’d picked men that hadn’t asked for the job, because he knew those that volunteered were cowards, but that left him with men who were bored easily.
He moved to the edge of the pit, looking at the sand still stained with blood from the last Drake fight. He and Vampa had trained in that Pit, or the one near Vampa’s home, for nearly a full year. He’d thought he was a good fighter before, but Vampa was on a level beyond anything he’d ever seen. After a few months of training with bare hands, he’d started giving him lessons in swordsmanship. While the hand to hand fighting had been brutal, and violent, the sword training had been formal, very different from the guard training he’d received before. Vampa’s entire stance had changed when he lifted a sword, though he’d seemed very reluctant to do so at first, as if the grip of it actually burned his hand. Zak had liked learning it, he’d had some background with the guard, but Vampa made him feel like a knight rather than a soldier. Like someone with something to protect. It was just a feeling, but he enjoyed it.
Zak placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and looked around. Something felt off. He exchanged a glance with the other men, and Vera, who all seemed to realize something was wrong.
“Ladies, let’s move back over to the cigar bar and grab some food to eat,” said Vera, trying to move them deeper into the den without frightening them.
Zak and his men moved back toward the sealed entrance. While he hadn’t heard anything before, now he could hear movement at the door, and the sounds of the debris being moved. He gestured for the men to stand back, and drew his new sword, sending some of his will through it to have it light with a dim flame.
One man with a rifle, and another with a bow stepped back and took a knee to aim their weapons, while the others prepared what they had. There were about ten of them altogether. There was a burst of noise, and then silence as a bit of daylight peeked through the cellar doors they were looking up at. A single god coin was slipped through the small gap between the doors, and it bounced down several steps.
Zak was swinging his sword even as the coin neared him.