Page 100 of Tiger's Trek
Zima began pulling on Stacia’s cloak, shaking her little head in fear. Stacia shushed her and held her hand tightly.
“Ah, I see,” said the dragon rider, buckling his spear at his side. “If that is the case, then you must follow me, and we’ll get you registered and assigned barracks. After that, yourmasterand his... daughter”—he nodded toward Zima—“will be free to wander the stands as he sees fit.”
They followed the dragon-riding bogatyr, and the trio were soon immersed in a cacophony of noise and splendor the likes of which none of them had ever experienced before. In the hollow of the mountains, a great coliseum with multiple arenas had been created, some of which overlapped. One of the battle areas was a series of small islands or tree structures surrounded by water.
Stacia spied another dragon fighting in one arena against a flying lion. Cheers erupted when fire blazed from the mouth of the lion, and something like molten metal poured out of the dragon.
“Tsarevna,” Zakhar said. “I don’t think?—”
“You can’t go!” Zima protested. “You’ll get hurt!”
“We have to help Iriko,” Stacia said quietly, not wanting to cause Zima to panic. “Remember: He’s fighting beasts like that. If we can find him, maybe we can free him before he gets himself killed.” She bent down to Zima. “We have to save the tiger, Zima. Please understand.”
“But remember what the sisters said: After he’s entered, he has to fight until the end. The only ones who live are the winners.”
“I guess we’ll have to make sure Iriko and I are the winners, then.”
Zakhar shook his head. “I refuse to allow you to enter. How could I call myself a man of God and send someone to their death?”
The bogatyr flew to their side again. “This is where you part. Say your farewells.”
Stacia quickly hugged Zakhar, who only awkwardly returned the embrace, telling himself it was simply a friendly farewell, and possibly one to a brave woman he would never again set eyes upon. He quickly spoke last rites, just in case, offering an official blessing over her bent head while she said her goodbyes to Zima, who cried huge tears causing clouds to gather overhead.
They had drawn up to a large barracks at the top of the coliseum. A huge man strode up to them along the thin plank that jutted out over the side of a cliff. One step to the left or right meant a fall that would bring certain death. Peering over the edge, Stacia could see there were many so-called warriors who had seemingly decided to take that route rather than enter into the Novgorod Games. She breathed a sigh of relief not seeing a broken tiger body among the rocks.
He waved away the bogatyr, who rode off with a flick of his dragon’s tail. Then the huge man thrust a form into Zakhar’s hands.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Waiver of rights to your warrior. When she dies, depending on how well she fights, you’ll be compensated for her death. If she goes over the plank, you get nothing. Collect your earnings at the end of the Games. Go to the owners’ booth. Claim number is at the bottom.”
Zakhar read through the rules quickly. “It says here she can bring her own weapons?”
“That’s right. We won’t issue any. Least not until the end.”
“And she can keep her clothing?”
The man grinned and looked Stacia up and down. “Unless you want her to fight naked. She probably won’t last as long, but we might go easier on her for entertainment’s sake. Put her in the warmer arenas.”
“No. No. She’ll wear her clothing.”
The man looked disappointed.
“And you’ll feed her?”
“Yeah, yeah. She’ll dine like a princess. Now, is she coming or what?”
Zakhar signed the form with a flourish and handed it back, along with a small piece of red gold. “See to it she is fed well and housed well and more of this will come to you later,” Zakhar said.
The man’s eyes lit at the sight of the rare gold. “Whatever you say, moy gospodin.” He gave a slight bow, then said, “Come on, girl.”
Stacia knew Zakhar had made a mistake. That man was not one who would take a bribe. Oh, he’d take your money for certain, but he’d also take your life. He was just as likely to throw her into a dungeon to make a point. But there was nothing she could do about it now.
“You must be careful,” she said. “Watch your back. You’re all Zima has.”
“I’ll watch out for him,” Zima said.
Stacia couldn’t help but laugh. “Good. Take care of each other. Watch out for pickpockets.”
