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Removing his pouch, Jiron moves closer to the desk and upends it, spilling out its contents.

Seeing the amount of coins the pouch contains, the man’s eyes widen slightly. “All of it?” he asks. “You do realize that the champion hasn’t been beaten don’t you?”

Jiron shrugs.

Then the man’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Why?”

From behind them, a voice says, “It’s because he is the challenger.”

Turning, they see Lonn entering the room.

“You know him?” the man behind the desk asks.

“You could say that,” he says. “They gave me a beating last night.”

Laughing, the man behind the desk says, “I see.” Taking Jiron’s pouch, he upends it on his desk and counts the contents. One of the gems from the cavern under the Merchant’s Pass is in among the silver and coppers. Picking it up, the man examines it and asks, “Where did you get this?”

“I found it some time ago,” he replies. “It’s my hedge against adversity.”

Nodding, the man says, “Do you want to include this in with your wager?”

“Yes,” replies Jiron.

“Very well,” he says. “With the gem you have seventeen golds and five silver. Is that the sum you wish to wager?”

“The gem’s worth more than fifteen golds,” he objects.

“Maybe so, but that’s all I’m appraising it for here and now,” the man says.

“Very well,” agrees Jiron.

The man takes out a piece of paper and after annotating the amount, signs it before sliding back across the desk to Jiron. “If you win, this piece of paper is worth a hundred and seventy five golds. If you fail to win, you lose,” he says.

Taking the paper, he says, “Deal.”

“Good luck tonight,” the man says.

“Luck’s got nothing to do with it,” he replies.

To the guard, the man behind the desk says, “Show them out.”

“Come on,” the guard grunts as he leads them back down the hallway. At the table, he pauses a moment while they collect their weapons and then opens the door for them. Once outside, the door shuts behind them and they hear the bar being placed against the door.

“Still over an hour before the fight,” Fifer says.

The sun has just cleared the horizon and the shadows are deepening. “Let’s get a small bite to eat,” suggests Jiron.

“Alright,” agrees Fifer.

They leave the courtyard where in just a short while Jiron will be facing a champion said to have the habit of leaving his opponents dead.

Chapter Seven

_________________________

The room in which the Royal Court meets is large. Upon a throne across the room from where he enters, James sees a regally dressed man of middle years sitting upon an ornate throne. A simple golden crown sits upon his head. That must be the King of Cardri.

In lesser chairs flanking him on either side are six other individuals, three to a side. These must be the other members of the Royal Court. Whether they’re here to advise or are part of the ruling body he isn’t sure.

The officious man leads him forward to stand before the King. The room is full of onlookers, all but a very few are dressed in garments the cost of which would enable a poor man to live a year. All eyes are upon him as he’s led forward.

“Your majesty,” the officious man announces once he’s come to a stop. “May I present, the mage known as James.”

James stands straight and gives the king a deep bow.

“We appreciate you coming with such alacrity to our summons,” the King says.

“I would not wish to keep your majesty waiting,” he replies.

“Indeed.” The King stares at James in silence for a moment, as if he’s taking his measure. Behind the king, stands a man in robes. As the silence mounts, James suddenly feels the familiar tingling sensation which heralds another doing magic in the vicinity.

Eyes flicking around the room, they finally settle upon the man standing behind the King. James figures him to be some sort of court magician or wizard. In a world where magic is practiced, it would make sense for a monarch to have one at his side. James refuses to take the bait and keeps his magic still.

“What are you, sir?” the King finally asks.

Startled at the question, James asks, “Your majesty?”

“There have been many strange tales