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It wasn’t guaranteed, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it was better than nothing.
I sat on the edge of my bed, Harper having just left.
Footsteps approached and came to a stop outside my door. The shadows leaked underneath the frame and someone bent down and shoved a folded piece of paper under it. It made a rough hissing noise like a coiled viper.
Then the unknown figure backed away and left.
I waited a moment before tossing the blankets aside and crossing to the door. I bent down and picked up the scrap of paper and unfolded it.
Written across the fold in a scratchy scrawl was a single word, a command I was obliged to obey:
“LOSE”.
The order had come from Krial himself, the way it always did. None of us ever got to understand the logic behind his decisions. We were merely expected to follow them.
I gathered my things from the wardrobe and prepared for the upcoming battle.
I shivered.
Lose.
That meant I would be taking a beating today for sure.
It was hard to lose against such a poor fighter.
He was a snorlak and they were tunic-wearing barbarians, muscular across the chest, their heads almost as thick as their shoulders.
They were ugly beasts.
Even worse, they were great showmen.
“Yeah!” he bellowed, turning to survey the crowd, beating his ax against his shield to rally their roaring cry.
I wished he would stop showing off and just get it over with already.
His movements were slow and lethargic. His heavily muscled arms and legs moved the speed of mating molasses. I could have dodged each blow three times before it finally landed.
I might have been ordered to throw the fight, but it didn’t mean I had to enjoy it.
“Hahahaha!” the ugly tusked beast said. “I’m going to tear you apart piece by piece and serve you to the dogs!”
What dogs? Why serve me up?
None of his chants made any sense.
The snorlak turned and raised his arms again to his adoring crowd.
I needed to hurry this whole shit show along before he took two days to finish me off in what should have taken him a couple of minutes.
I got to my feet and staggered as if I was badly injured.
I wasn’t, but I needed to make it look at least a little realistic.
I’d gotten good at pretending to lose. That was why I was ranked in the mid-five hundreds. So low, nobody bothered to figure out exactly what my rank was.
The snorlak turned and saw me standing there, wavering uncertainly.
Come on, asshole. Deal me the final blow already!
