The Kaiserine's Champion

"They picked on you?"
 
I hesitated before answering. "No. A young lad, sitting quietly in a corner with his girl, doing no one any harm."
 
"A friend of yours, was he? Your brother? A cousin?"

I shook my head again, and my visitor chuckled darkly. "Let me guess what happened," he said. "The Duke's Wardens decided they wanted the girl for themselves, and pretended to take insult at something the boy said or did. Am I right?"

"Close enough," I said, wondering how he knew so much.

"And so you decided to interfere, decided to help a stranger you didn't even know." He gave another humorless chuckle. "I shouldn't imagine the Wardens took kindly to your interfering in their business?"

They most certainly hadn't. They'd overpowered me through sheer weight of numbers and forced me outside, into the dark alleyway behind the tavern. Instead of arresting me, as I'd expected, their drunken fool of a corporal had drawn his sword and tried to cut me in two. I'd avoided his clumsy attack and run him headlong into the wall, relieving him of his blade in the process. His men came at me then, roaring with blood-lust, demanding vengeance. I'd wounded when I could, killed only when they gave me no other choice. But, outnumbered as I was, they would have butchered me for certain if a squad of Noseys, hadn't chanced by and dragged me to safety. Before I'd a chance to thank them for saving my life, they'd beaten me unconscious with their wooden clubs. The lumps on the back of my head still throbbed painfully.

"The Duke's Wardens are indeed ruffians," the noble said. "But they are also excellent swordsmen. They are trained by the Duke's swordmaster, Schwertkampfer, who is no slouch with the blade. Yet you managed to kill six of them. You're either very good, or you're the luckiest man alive. Which is it?"

"Perhaps a little of both," I suggested modestly.

"A good answer. It may be that I have a use for someone who possesses such luck, and knows how to use a sword."

"I don't quite follow you," I said, but a tiny flame of hope sparked within my breast.

"Tomorrow, as you may know, is the Kaiserine's birthday. It's a very special occasion, and special entertainment is arranged. I'm looking for someone to put into the Arena. You may be that man."

The Arena! Professional fighters battled in the Arena for the entertainment of the Kaiserine and the Empire's aristos. If they won, they received riches and anything else they might desire. Losing, on the other hand, often earned mutilation, or worse.

"What exactly are you offering?" I asked.

"Your freedom, a large bag of silver, and a fast horse to take you out of the city. Assuming, of course . . ."

He left the rest unsaid. Assuming, of course, that I lived. The Arena was far different from the crowded alley behind the tavern where drunken soldiers had tripped over each other and botched their attacks. I'd be matched against the toughest killers in the Empire. Then again, what was the alternative? A rope, a trapdoor and a quick end, if I was lucky. If I wasn't lucky, I might dangle there for hours, dying a very unpleasant death. My bowels turned liquid at the very thought.

"I'm your man, if you can get me out of this," I said, not bothering to mention that I'd be running for the hills at the first opportunity.
 
"Very sensible. I like that." He rapped on the door. The sergeant opened it at once and examined me closely, as if making sure I hadn't escaped. I rattled my chains to set his mind at rest.