Terala stared in shock at the giant silver colored man who’d just issued challenge. She’d been so relieved when Tarrec won. All that relief immediately vanished.

“How interesting,” Jaa’lu commented.

“Where did he come from?” she asked. There was no new gladiator listed for today’s battle. Even as she asked the question, the giant leapt from one of the elite balconies. “Dear gods!” she gasped. It was a fall of easily forty feet or more.

He landed in a crouch. Underneath him the stones of the arena cracked with the force of impact.

“I’d guess Dorvala,” Jaa’lu murmured. “Look at that brow.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she snapped. When she looked down at Jaa’lu he was clearly laughing at her.

Meanwhile the silver colored man rose from his crouch.

Tarrec turned towards him, watching from the gladiatorial floor. From her vantage point, Terala couldn’t make out any particular expression on his face. Of course, the Fassai rarely showed much expression other than scorn.

Ariax, on the other hand, looked furious. Far more furious than when Tarrec had defeated him.

“Ahh, how interesting,” Jaa’lu said. “Look.”

An arena runner was urgently summoning the silver skinned giant to follow it onto the arena floor. The tiny little creature looked even more comical than usual. But not surprised. No, not in the least surprised. If this had been unexpected, its fur would have been standing up. She looked back up to the balcony where the silver man had come from.

Sitting out in the open, now that the window screen had been lowered, was a languid looking Malvan. He wore a purple velvet coat, bunches of lace at his neck and throat, and dark round glasses. “Tateklys,” she hissed.

“Ah. That would make sense,” Jaa’lu said, following her gaze.

Tateklys, sensing her gaze upon him, looked down and waved a handkerchief at her.

“What is he up to?” she asked, afraid she was going to find out all too soon.

“Follow me, follow me, follow me, Drogen Lar!” the small fur covered creature said, attempting to shoo him along.

“Enter the arena!” it said. “The arena, Drogen Lar!”

“Thank you,” he told it.

“Drogen Lar!” it chirped at him.

Well, it clearly wasn’t a species much for conversation. He stepped onto the sands. Twenty feet from where he stood, the reigning champion faced him. The man’s face was harsh; Drogen couldn’t tell if he was unhappy or if that was just what his species looked like. His skin was nearly the golden color of the Malvans, but he was clearly not the same race.

Tren Tarrec Dazeur.

Drogen stopped and bowed to the man.

After a long moment, Tarrec bowed in return.

Drogen reached for the sword Tateklys had given him.

“Stop!” a male voice cried out.

Ariax Thone, the defeated gladiator, rose from where he had been kneeling on the sand.

“Who are you?”

“I am a challenger,” Drogen answered. “My name is Drogen Lar.”

The Malvan looked Drogen up and down slowly. His lips twitched in amusement, probably, Drogen thought, at his rather barbaric looking costume. But Tateklys had insisted. “And where are you from, Drogen Lar? Why should I allow you to fight?”

Tarrec spoke then, his voice harsh like gravel. “I believe I’m the one he challenged, Thone. Not you. After all, I defeated you. It is, therefore, my choice.”

In the stand, the audience began yelling. Some cried out, “Ariax Thone! Thone!” Others yelled, “Dazeur!”

“I defend the Golden Lady’s honor!” Thone said to thunderous applause.

Terala growled at that. Ariax didn’t defend her honor. If anything, he attacked it!

The silver skinned stranger laughed then. “The Golden Lady has sufficient skill to defend her own honor,” he said. “I fight only for the chance to win her approval.”

She blinked. Very few of the fighters considered her particularly skilled. Either this fellow was rather undiscerning, or he was an excellent performer.

Beside her, Jaa’lu hissed in approval. “I like this one. If they don’t kill him, he might be a suitable mate.”

“I’m not looking for a mate,” she reminded the Ackalian.

“Perhaps. But they are certainly looking for you,” he answered.

“Oh, eat a fig,” she told him. He just chuckled in response.

Nonetheless, she couldn’t help looking at this Drogen Lar with a great deal of curiosity. This wasn’t playing out like Tateklys’ usual mischief. Oh, Ariax was up in arms over it, but that wasn’t unusual with Ariax. He and Tarrec were on the verge of coming to blows, but again, that wasn’t unusual.

Drogen Lar drew his sword. “I will battle you both, if need be.”

In the stands, the audience began to chant, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Tarrec grinned. It was such an unusual sight, at first Terala thought she must be mistaken. Thone just looked angry.

“Let us fight, then, all of us,” Tarrec said.

The audience roared in approval again. Of course. The greater the spectacle, the more they loved it. She looked up towards where the Phaezor sat when he was in attendance. That window was still closed. She had no way of knowing if he was even there. Or how he would react, if he were.

“Perhaps they will all kill each other,” Jaa’lu said. “That would free of you their attentions.”

“I should be so lucky,” she murmured in answer.

“You don’t have the proper appreciation for courtship,” he told her.

She didn’t bother to answer, for that was the moment that Ariax called down fire on both of his opponents. She leaned forward, hands clenching into fists…

To be continued….