Chapter Four

Three Weeks Before the Atero Championship

“See that?” the astronomer mused, delicately adjusting her telescope. “It’s moved.”

“I don’t… I don’t see anything.”

“Look again.”

Cladra squinted harder into the curved lens of the instrument, looking for anything that could possibly resemble movement. But the mysterious shape appeared to be in exactly the same spot as it had since Hederi had last urged her to look.

“Hederi, I still don’t see anything.”

“Loo—” The astronomer leaped to her feet. She might have accidentally shoved Cladra aside in her excitement had the village leader not already given up and been moving aside. With the lightest of touches, Hederi brushed a small nob with her fingers.

“Now look,” she said, stepping aside.

Throwing a glance at her, Cladra leaned over the telescope once more.

“The hand?”

“The hand, the arm. They’ve shifted.”

Cladra stood abruptly, suddenly feeling rather perturbed. She’d been in the middle of rather important brooding when the jungle tribe’s astronomer had hurried her to the Tesaran observatory tree.

“You rushed me here for this?”

“I know! It’s so cool, isn’t it?” Hederi gushed.

Cladra stifled an exasperated sigh and retrieved her bag from the corner where it lay. Gresh and Berix had said they wouldn’t be out more than a day, yet two had passed already and a matter of urgency requiring the Second Glatorian had arisen. With any luck, they would be back any second now.

“Hederi, you know I love staring at moon shadows with you as much as the next Agori, but now’s hardly the time.”

The realization that the elder was actually serious seemed to hit the astronomer, and her expression grew serious. She rose to her full height, and as a being of the same biology as the Glatorian, she was almost twice the elder’s height.

“When would be a good time, then?”

“Well, when Tesera has clean water again, for starters.”

“Cladra! Hederi! We’ve been looking all over for you,” came Gresh’s voice.

Cladra whirled. Though the small observatory was dimly lit, two tall silhouettes could be observed moving in their direction. She knew both of them from their voices, but their faces were obscured until they were about halfway to her.

“What are you watching?” Tarix asked Hederi.

“We were just looking at the man on the moon,” Hederi responded. “Want to see?”

“Not now,” Cladra snapped. “Gresh! Where have you been? I nearly sent Vastus after you.”

“Looking for more buried treasure,” he shrugged. “Got attacked by a few Vorox on the way. Tarix here said you’re looking for me.”

“Indeed, I am. Now that the Skrall have taken our oasis, I have opened a challenge to Iconox for some of their water supply.”

“You have?!” Tarix said suddenly. “Tajun just challenged Iconox for it as well!”

Yes, but unlike Tesara, Tajun has grown accustomed to suffering, Cladra thought grimly. The Bone Hunters have seen to that.

“I thought matches were supposed to slow down in the month before the Tournament, not increase,” Gresh mused wryly.

“We don’t have any choice,” Cladra exhaled. “Tarix, if Tajun really has issued their own stake, then Tajun and Tesara should fight Iconox for an even stake in the water. Then we will see who wins what fights and divide it accordingly.”

“Fair enough,” Tarix responded. “In that case, since I’m heading in that direction, I might as well accompany you there.”

“Very good,” Cladra nodded. “Best of luck to you both.”

✴        ✴        ✴

The two Glatorian emerged from the observatory in uncharacteristically dour moods. To know that both of their villages depended on both of them securing the same body of water was disheartening, to say the least.

Gresh was the first to speak.

“This can’t be allowed to continue.”

“I suppose you’d ask the desert to not be so dry? Or the sun to cool off a little? This is what we’re stuck with, Gresh.”

“No, this—” Gresh stopped in his tracks. “This is unacceptable. We just can’t keep letting the Bone Hunters raid and pillage whatever they want! Three weeks ago, they even had the guts to attack a convoy of Roxtus Agori. See—At least the Skrall abide by law of the arena. The Bone Hunters just… attack.”

Gresh shook his head and looked into the distance, toward the ramparts of the city.

“In less than a year, the Bone Hunters have risen to be the greatest threat Bara Magna has faced since the Shattering.”

“And the alternative?” Tarix snapped. “Wipe them off the face of the planet?

“If it prevents that many people from dying, maybe. Tajun’s had the worst of it—imagine how much easier this year would have been if they hadn’t gotten the courage to pillage as they have.”

“No, Gresh,” Tarix shook his head. “You don’t understand… How could you? You must have been so young when the tribes last went to war. To declare war on the Bone Hunters—to decimate them to where they could not plunder any longer… It would fly in the face of everything we fought for when we established the Glatorian system. I… I refuse to think that it’s come to that.”

“And if the Bone Hunters burn Tajun to the ground,” Gresh asked softly. “What would you do then?”

Tarix’s eyes darkened. But silence hung as the two trekked back to their residences.

✴        ✴        ✴

Early morning found Tarix waiting just outside the Tajun city gate. The trek to Iconox would require the full day, and the White Quartz Mountains were known for terrifying animals such as Crystal Lions that roamed the mountains at night.

The Water Glatorian was just about to go back into the village in search of Gresh when the Jungle Glatorian appeared in the gate, tugging along two Sand Stalkers.

“What took you so long?”

Gresh shrugged. “Got held up by a travelling merchant. He said a flurry of Bone Hunter activity was spotted again last night somewhere between Tajun and Tesara.”

Tarix frowned. As long as it was just a flurry, perhaps there was nothing to worry about.

“Nothing to be done,” he grunted. “Come, we need to make haste.”

Still, as he threw his bags over the Sand Stalker, he found himself unable to shake the feeling that he’d heard about something else passing through that general vicinity.

It was such an annoying feeling.

✴        ✴        ✴

The two Sand Stalkers moved fast, for the loads they bore were relatively light. Given the frequency with which Prime and Second Glatorian travelled from one village to another, it was not uncommon for these Glatorian to leave a week’s worth of supplies for themselves in the chambers dedicated to the visiting fighters.

Most of the Glatorian tended to be respectful of each others’ materials, but ever since Malum and Strakk had been promoted to Prime Glatorian, a rash of thefts broke out, requiring locks be installed. Everyone recognized that it was probably one or the other of these, but since both entered into combat around the same time, and since both only blamed each other, the mystery had gone unsolved. Of course, those who knew them well suspected they had both participated in the thefts.

In addition to supplies owned by the Glatorian themselves, villages frequently reserved a special fund for providing and caring for visiting combatants. There was a certain level of courtesy that had evolved into existence around the Glatorian system, and even while the villages couldn’t care less what befell other tribes—unless it should hurt them—they placed great value in the wellbeing of visiting combatants. So cemented was their celebrity status—and certainly there was no telling if a major Glatorian might trade tribes.

It was because of this that Gresh and Tarix were able to travel with relatively little in the way of supplies. The exception to this rule was weapons and extra armor, which Glatorian considered necessary should they be faced with a Vorox or Bone Hunter attack.

Wary of such an attack—and certainly accustomed to such things—Tarix’s eyes combed the land as they rode, keen to detect any sense of movement or activity. Already, it was approaching midday, but his alertness was not diminished in any respect. He had lived all his life wary of sudden ambushes.

Speaking of—he inhaled sharply, and his eyes narrowed.

“Gresh—look,” he hissed.

The Jungle Glatorian whirled, himself on high alert. The two were travelling along a slight ridge carved in the side of the cliff that proceeded above fields with patches of quicksand.

But Gresh saw nothing.

“I see nothing,” Gresh reported.

Tarix nodded to the east. The Jungle Glatorian followed his gaze, and his eyes narrowed.

Yes, now he saw it. Very faint, and very far off. But far across the dunes below, he spied a glimmer of red.

Now it was Gresh’s turn to gasp.

“Malum?”

Tarix nodded. “Yes, and not just him.”

The Jungle Glatorian looked again. Surely enough, half a mile away, there was some tan movement among the dunes.

“Several Vorox are tangled in a fight with a pack of Wasteland Wolves,” Tarix finished.

“Since when do the wolves come out in the day?”

Tarix snorted, urging his steed to go faster.

“Since even the scavengers are getting desperate.”

✴        ✴        ✴

The rest of the afternoon seemed to pass quickly and before long, they were passing through the hill regions directly for the pass to Iconox. The mountains themselves seemed to tower above the two travelers menacingly.

With the exception, perhaps, of Roxtus, Iconox was the least trusted of the villages. Although many of the villagers might outwardly seem welcoming and inviting, most purportedly had a sense of discomfort around many of the Ice villagers. Iconox Agori were often employed as cunning, cutthroat traders or hardened Exsidian miners. The traders were particularly aggressive, frequently competing for deals and thereby ensuring Iconox’s dominance in the trade. As the village furthest removed from Bara Magna, they were equally the furthest removed from the culture—at least until the Skrall arrived.

Still, despite any unease surrounding the tribe, there was no doubt that they were an essential piece of Bara Magnan culture. Iconox was the oldest of the modern Bara Magna civilizations, and although some were suspicious about the fairness of their play, Iconox had not yet failed to honor their losses.

Furthermore, their first prime Glatorian, Certavus, was lauded among all the tribes, for he had been the one to spearhead the foundation of the Glatorian System—a system singularly responsible for preventing the tribes from devolving into another war. Following his death, his name passed quickly into legend, and some historians had taken to arguing whether he was in fact born into the Ice Glatorian tribe or relocated to it at an early age prior to the Core War.

In many ways, Iconox’s current Glatorian took after two different sides of Certavus. In succeeding Certavus, Strakk rapidly proved himself to be an elite fighter on par with the likes of Ackar, Vastus, and Tarix, Certavus’ own contemporaries. Gelu, on the other hand, seemed to take after the introspective manner of Certavus, for better or for worse. Nevertheless, neither had seemed to fully live up to either side of the late Iconox Glatorian, and both were doomed to live in his shadow.

✴        ✴        ✴

Soon the sky was almost completely out of view, though the pass itself was illuminated by the light bouncing between the crystal mountains. Now it was an entirely uphill trek, and as the path climbed, the very sides seemed to drop away into nothingness.

As the two steeds rode up the pass in the dimming daylight, they came within view of a towering ridge with a gate carved into it. A watcher on the wall blew a small horn and a drawbridge was lowered to rest on the pass, spanning the yawning chasm below.

Inside, the the village was lined numerous catwalks that connected the crystalline residences that were carved out of crystal pillars. At the center was a large, rectangular metal structure that Tarix had always likened to a torso. The entire thing was gargantuan, and nearly taller than the mountains themselves. Internally, it was hollow, and most of the ice tribe population lived inside it, with miners descending through it to the mines. At the very top, where a neck would otherwise sit, was the Iconox arena.

The two fighters were met with this site as they proceeded over the drawbridge. They didn’t have long to take it in, however, as they were pleasantly surprised to see their greeting committee, a far larger body than they’d anticipated. Not only were both Strakk and Gelu present, but the elder, Jagrii, as well as a host of attendants swarmed about them.

Strakk approached them quickly.

“Tarix, before you ask, we don’t have the supplies to replace them. Jagrii is fit to be tied and will probably have your head if you ask.”

“What do you mean?” smiled the Water Glatorian as he dismounted, more happy that the trip was over than anything else. He handed the reins to Gresh and turned back to them. “I barely set foot in the village and already they’re calling for my head?”

Strakk shook his head. “Then you didn’t hear.”

Tarix looked hard at Strakk. He then looked at Gelu and the other elder.

Gelu stepped forward.

“The shipment from Tarix’s winning streak last season that we sent two days ago,” he started. “The major caravan of food and elixirs. It…”

Tarix’s eyes narrowed. “It what?”

Gelu exhaled.

“It was Bone Hunters.”