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The sun was breaking through the narrow visor, blinding the eyes and burning the trembling eyelids with the hurty dust particles that had settled on them.
"Two, two, one!" the herald's voice boomed overhead.
He was supported by sparse clapping and laughter from the stands.
"The last circle!" the voice shouted again.
Somewhere in another universe, the screeching sound of gates opening was heard, and the animated ones spilled out into the arena. Hastily assembled from various cheaply-purchased parts at the market, with no consciousness of their limbs, they scrambled to the ground like stranded fish, sprawling to and fro. The last to emerge from the gate was a huge golem, limping on its left leg. He had a mighty ax in his hand, and Ruchi swallowed, foreseeing trouble. Another gate opened on the opposite side, but no one came out.
The golem turned its head toward the people and moved to them, trying on the ax for a swing. A short fat man standing beside Ruchi, with whom they had managed to get through the previous two rounds, threw his mace and ran back to the gate where they had just entered the arena. But the gate was already closed. Ruchi heard his partner sobbing and moaning behind him and tried on the shield in his left hand – it didn't seem very reliable against the block of stone coming at him. The golem ran into one of the crawling pieces of wood in front of it and stumbled. It lost its balance, dropped its ax, and fell to one knee. The guard felt he had a chance, rushed forward, swinging his sword as he ran. He swung it as hard as he could against the golem's stone head, but the sword bounced off and flew out of Ruchi's hand, striking out a shower of sparks.
The man staggered back, crouched down, and dropped his shield in the dust he had just raised. The golem slowly turned its head toward him, crunched something inside its stone body, and then rose. Just as slowly it reached for the ax and took it in its rough hands when the dust cloud caught up with it as well. Ruchi grabbed the shield by its leather strap and crawled back to where he thought the sword had bounced. As he crawled, glancing back periodically at the approaching golem, sweat trickled down his eyes, and he could see neither the dark outline of the hilt nor the gleam of the blade in the dust. For a moment he could see the fat man, somewhere on the edge of the arena, beating off the dummies crawling toward him with his club.
The golem, meanwhile, was approaching and swinging the heavy ax to strike. Ruchi got to his feet and wanted to run, but found himself pinned against the gate. The golem was beside him in two leaps, and the man instinctively covered himself with his shield. The blow struck right in the center of him, the helmeted head rang like a bell, and a sharp pain pierced Ruchi's arm. The shield cracked and fell, exposing the man to the golem – and it retreated a step to take a second swing. Ruchi grabbed his arm and squeezed his eyes shut. There was a rumble, and Ruchi, inwardly accepting death, was surprised to find that even in death his arm did not cease to ache.
Grunting, he raised his head and opened one eye first, then abruptly yanked his good hand away from the injured one and opened the visor. There was no golem in front of him, or rather there were stones scattered around the massive carcass of a huge red creature covered in sharp scales. The carcass was moving its imposing gray tail, which looked more like stone than scales, in front of the guard's face. It seemed that if it swung that tail, it would turn Ruchi into a flapjack right where he lay. Out of the corner of his eye the guard noticed the ax thrown to the edge of the arena by his right, good hand, and began to crawl sideways toward it. The creature turned its muzzle to him, and he saw two small blue eyes, full of hatred, and a large mouth of sharp teeth with two curved buckets of fangs. Sensing what the man had in mind, it screamed furiously, so that Ruchi's whole body trembled and the visor on his helmet fell down.
The guard remembered who the first-born standing before him was. It was a desert hunter that lived on the slopes of the quarry. Its amazing paw structure allowed it to stick to the surface, and some, the especially nimble ones, managed to climb the wall into the City's sewage drains. If they could be caught, their paws were cauterized and sent here, to the arena. But in recent years the beggars had become such serious competitors that there was almost no food left in the drains, and such a phenomenon as the desert hunter could be called a rarity. But here it stood before him in all its terrifying glory. A degenerated one, a species of first-born that had lost its mind over the millennia. A creation of the Heart as he was, Ruchi.
Something distracted the creature, and it turned its muzzle in the opposite direction from Ruchi. Then its entire massive body flew into the air and reversed direction, landing its tail next to the man's face again and blocking his movement. The guard saw the fat man nervously reloading his crossbow on the opposite side of the arena. As Ruchi later realized when he raised his visor again, there was a bolt sticking out of the desert-dweller's shoulder. The fat man backed toward the wall, but the beast would not come near him. A shriek erupted from its fang-like mouth again, and a long scarlet tongue lashed out at the hapless crossbowman, hitting him, causing the fatty to fall silently before he could even control his weapon. The desert-dweller moved toward the fallen man, limping a little on its left foreleg. Ruchi crawled hastily toward the ax.
When he got to the offender, the desert-dweller grabbed the fat man's head in its mouth, yanked it and threw it at Ruchi. The wretched man's body struck next to the guard and fell on the ax. Ruchi was horrified to see that the fat man had no head. He jerked away from the body, glancing furtively at the thing that had spit the head out of its mouth and was now turning in his direction. Before he knew it, a crowd had gathered in the stands above. People were chanting and shouting, throwing food and stones into the arena.
The guard gulped, but made an effort to grab the edge of the hilt and yank the heavy ax with his good hand from under his former fellow in arms' lifeless body. The creature stuck the tip of its tongue out of its mouth and pulled the bolt from its shoulder, making a snarling sound that caused Ruchi's ears to pop, but he managed to stand up, leaning on the ax.
"Go ahead, come here," he said rather to himself.
Ruchi yanked the ax, trying to lift it with one hand, but it didn't work. He yanked again, but only lost his balance to the loud laughter of the crowd. The beast walked slowly toward him, savoring moments of glory. The crowd roared. The guard looked the creature straight in the eye, and it seemed to him that it understood everything: his helplessness, its glory, and the fleetingness of this moment. But then it opened its mouth and roared. Ruchi thought it was going to split his head open, but out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the remaining dummies plunge a short sword into the desert-dweller's paw. The creature jerked, but only shattered the limb more and fell to the ground, whipping its tongue at the dummy that had flown away and crashed against the wall, and then the desert-dweller began to draw the sword from its nailed paw with its tongue.
Ruchi wasted no time in dashing along the wall. The beast looked back at him and began to work its tongue faster. When the guard reached the crossbow on the other side of the arena, it had finally released its foot and thrust its tongue in the direction of where the man had just run. It snapped into the wall beside Ruchi's head, who had already drawn his bowstring with a bolt that glinted in the sun. The desert-dweller was beside him in one leap, and its fangs locked on the man's head. The creature jerked backward with its whole body, but it only yanked the helmet from Ruchi's head, already raising the crossbow on his sore arm, screaming and cursing all the moons. The desert-dweller spat out the helmet and leaped forward again, opening its gigantic maw. Ruchi squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the hook.
A disappointed sigh from the crowd informed the guard that he was still alive. The beast closed its jaws on his outstretched arm with the crossbow, which was exactly between the monster's fangs. The shot went straight for the creature's throat. The desert-dweller collapsed and fell with its gigantic carcass on the guard. Ruchi clumsily pulled his hand out of the muzzle that was descending upon him, scraping his wrist on the sharp teeth. He lay there motionless, unable to see or hear anything, for a while before he realized that he was pinned by the monster's head and having trouble breathing. He laughed involuntarily as he climbed out from under its body to the dull roar of the crowd. He got to his feet, staggering, and, as was his custom, threw up his big arm, covered in dust and blood, whether it was his own or the desert-dweller's. Then he fell, leaned on it to get up, and threw it up again, but then he realized that the herald had not announced the round and looked around.
At the edge of the arena, the last remaining dummy, consisting of a wooden body and a hammer arm, pounded furiously against the wall. Ruchi looked around and saw his sword lying two feet from the desert-dweller's tail. Stumbling, he walked to it, picked it up, and dragged it toward the dummy. Dust was piling up all over the arena, and he could feel it settling on his throat. Still chuckling stupidly, he walked toward the wall where the stump was dawdling. He drew his sword over it, but then looked back in fear. When he saw no one, he exhaled a groan of relief and, turning back to the still moving piece of the animated one, struck the wooden body of the doll with all his might, severing its ax arm and plunging the blade deep into its wooden flesh. The dummy stopped twitching, and the herald's voice announced:
"Three, two, one! Round!"
The crowd howled again in displeasure and continued to disperse. Ruchi stared at them without surprise or emotion, only spat hurty dust reddish saliva on the sand, picked up a stump of apple that lay nearby, rubbed it on his chest, and took a bite. After chewing, he spat and looked at the apple. A worm was looking at the man from the hole.
When Ruchi, exhausted but alive, with his arm bandaged and his cuts sewn up, emerged from the wide archway of the central gate of the Colosseum, the younger star was approaching sunset and the lower tier was filled with the thick orange smog from the city furnaces where the workers' families were cooking dinner. He walked among the rows behind which the gladiators may have been eating for the last time before the evening's performance. They laughed and made rude jokes, patting each other on the shoulder, grasping at the last hope before the uncertainty that awaited them in the arena. Standing out among them were those who sat silently, concentrating on their food. In them the guard recognized the veterans. People like him, who had already played this terrible game, but for some reason had come back for more. He wouldn't want to be in their shoes, not for any money. With his eyes Ruchi found Blop, sitting a little to the side, devouring the chicken.
"Fuchi! Yum, yum, yum. Ruchi!" Blop shouted, and chunks of chicken fell from his mouth. "What happened to your hand? Oh, my dear moons! And those scars? How was the fight, my friend? I didn't wait 'cause I was so hungry. You had such success in the last two battles that I had no doubt you would win, so I decided to have a snack! Where's your partner?"
He moved the plate with the poultry toward his friend who sat down across from him with difficulty. With his good hand the tall guard placed a clinking sack on the table, and a gold coin fell out of it.
"Wow!" Blop champed. "Generous!"
He pulled back the rope that had tied the sack with his greasy finger and raised his eyebrows:
"To each?"
Ruchi shook his head as he tore a piece off the chicken leg and chewed it greedily.
"To everyone," he replied, throwing his head back and swallowing the meat.
"You mean we have to share?" Blop asked, looking around stealthily.
"No," Ruchi replied and grabbed a chicken wing.
"I don't understand," the fat man frowned.
"And you won't," Ruchi grinned sadly and turned to the wing.
As Ruchi chewed, the heavy figure of a guard crouched beside Blop, a scarlet bandage running down his right shoulder over his massive cuirass to his left side, where a dainty hilted sword dangled. It was more decorative than martial, looking like a gift from his superiors, worn by its owner with special chic.
"Captain..." said Ruchi with some resentment.
He reached for the sack of gold, but the massive hand in the dirty black glove had already rested on the money, and Captain Sike laughed so hard that his large, chin-length mustache vibrated in an evil dance.
"Oh, Ruchi-Ruchi, you never cease to amaze me," he said in a resounding bass as he weighed the sack in his hand. "Not bad, not bad, who did you swindle this time, my hapless friend? Ah, Blopy boy, who did you take for a ride?"
Blop looked askance at the captain with his mouth half open, holding a piece of chicken near it, unable to answer.
"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" Sike asked, squinting and staring directly into the eyes of Ruchi, who was looking at the little black beads on the captain's massive face with hatred and resentment.
"Here's the thing, kiddo," said Sike, hanging the sack on his belt, "Consider yourself lucky, and we're even. But if I ever, you hear me, ever find out you've been mowing my lawn again, I won't be so kind. Got it?"
Ruchi nodded slowly.
"That's a good boy," said the captain, standing up and rattling his armor against the wooden table.
"And don't you dare cross us!" a young guard who stood in the captain's entourage nearby shouted.
"Keep your mouth shut, you dumbass! Or I will have you clearing the rubble in the Old Quarter," the captain shouted, and as he passed by he slammed the boy's helmet so hard that he fell on his comrades.
"We need armor!" Ruchi shouted after the captain in a hoarse voice.
Sike turned around, took a gold coin out of the sack, and tossed it with his finger. The coin jingled on the table and rolled into the dirt behind the benches. Blop rushed after it, and Ruchi shouted:
"And rifles!"
But the captain had already disappeared into the crowd, and Ruchi caught only an angry look from the young man, who was following his comrades toward the market. Blop emerged from under the table with the coin in his hand, still holding the chicken in his teeth. Ruchi put his head down on his injured arm, and immediately raised it, groaning in pain.
"Red moon on their heads," he thumped his good hand on the table, which made the plate with the chicken bounce, and in its shadow he noticed a coin that had fallen out of the bag. Blop noticed it, too, and even the chicken fell out of his mouth.
"We're lucky again, buddy! You see, you see, Ruch," he murmured, "I told you fate is on our side!"
