Page 42 of Lady Controversial
‘Good grief!’ Ellery, his brother and Lawson arrived at the clearing to be confronted by a vast crowd in loud voice, spoiling for…well, for a fight. If one wasn’t forthcoming, Ellery harboured no doubts about their ability to manufacture one of their own, which could get ugly. ‘We’re two miles from the nearest village. Where the devil did they all come from?’
‘Seems Hewitt was in the right of it for once,’ Lawson remarked.
‘I say!’ Felix rubbed his hands together gleefully. ‘This could be interesting.’
Ellery was reluctant to temper his brother’s enthusiasm, though he disagreed with his assessment. There was a restlessness amongst the crowd that he recognised as a desire to create trouble in their determination to be entertained.
‘See if you can find out what’s got them so worked up,’ he said in an aside to Lawson. ‘I’ll wager it’s more than a bare-knuckle fight.’
His man disappeared into the crowd but returned a short time later. ‘Seems there’s to be wrestling, bare knuckle fighting and then a sword fight.’
‘Oh.’ Felix sounded disappointed. ‘Is that all?’
‘The champion swordsman has never been beaten and no one knows his identity, which is what’s created all the interest. His reputation precedes him. Seems his opponent tonight has never been beaten either though, and as you can see,’ Lawson added, nodding to a gaggle of men on the periphery of the gathering taking wagers as fast as they could, ‘interest is rife.’
‘There will be a riot if the favourite doesn’t win,’ Ellery said pensively. ‘Who is the favourite?’
‘No idea,’ Lawson replied, ‘but we would be well advised to keep our wits about us. It could get nasty and if we’re recognised, we’ll be set upon if their blood’s up.’
A man stepped into the makeshift ring, and his announcement that the wrestling bout would shortly commence was greeted with wild cheers. Two men built like mountains lumbered into the arena, flexed their muscles, stamped their feet and threw one another around. The crowd roared them on, building up momentum, until the sound of a breaking bone brought the contest to a swift conclusion.
Felix cheered along with everyone else, seemingly unmoved by the fact that one of the wrestlers had broken his arm. A flurry of wagers was settled before the bare-knuckle fighters took centre stage. Their bout was brutal and prolonged, and the crowd grew steadily more raucous. Eventually the larger man was felled by a massive blow and the challenger was announced the winner. The majority had wagered on the loser and made their dissatisfaction vocally apparent.
‘That looked contrived to me,’ Ellery remarked in an aside to Lawson. ‘I should be surprised if there isn’t a riot. These men are not stupid and won’t accept being duped.’
‘Look.’
Lawson pointed to the arena, where the organiser—a large man with a florid face and the basic ability to work the crowd into a frenzy—had stepped forward. An immediate hush descended. They were close to the sea and it suddenly fell so quiet that Ellery could hear the sound of waves breaking on the shore.
‘Who is he?’ Ellery asked, watching the man build up the crowd’s expectations with effortless ease. ‘He has a certain presence that this lot appear to respect.’
‘Man by the name of Barker who, I’m told, hails from Chichester. He makes a living travelling round the area with his band of fighters.’
‘Never heard of him. How long has he been coming to this neck of the woods?’
‘Not long, apparently.’
‘Long enough to attract a healthy following,’ Ellery remarked, feeling uncomfortable for reasons he was unable to fathom as he cast his eye over the crowded gathering. The wind had got up, bringing with it the salty tang of the sea. ‘Wonder what attracted him to the area.’
‘Well, you know how men like a bit of rough. Word soon spreads. Besides, it’s a novelty and the area is comparatively wealthy. Surprised no one’s done it before now.’
‘What’s about to happen?’ Ellery asked, frowning.
‘Absolutely no idea. Let’s see.’
‘And now, gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.’ A lad with a hand drum beat a roll on it with more enthusiasm than skill, the sound loud and discordant. It nonetheless earned a ragged cheer from the enthusiastic crowd that appeared to have forgotten about the questionable result of the bare-knuckle fight. ‘Yes, the Gladiator is here.’
A loud cheer echoed round the clearing and more wagers were placed.
‘But will he meet his match tonight?’
A large man with a shaggy beard leapt athletically into the ring, twirling a heavy sword above his head, his grin showing gaps where teeth had once resided. He was greeted by a cacophony of sound, most of which was derisive.
Ellery listened with a growing sense of unease as Barker built up the appearance of the man he’d named the Gladiator; a champion who hadn’t been bested in a dozen bouts, it appeared. When that person finally appeared, his features concealed behind a mask, the volume went up several notches.
‘Good God!’ Lawson cried, echoing Ellery’s own thoughts. ‘He’ll be crucified by that beast. That oaf is twice his size.’
‘If it’s a fair fight,’ Ellery agreed, wondering why it mattered to him so much and why he felt so uncomfortable about the entire affair.
