Kissed By Death

"It's time, Ricin."

The warrior opened his eyes. "I am ready." He stood in one fluid motion, uncrossing his legs and rolling his head from side to side before looking at the bench in front of him. He picked up his two blades, one thirteen inches long and the other nine, and sheathed them in scabbards on his hips. Then he reached for the reinforced steel forearm wraps and tied them into place so that the steel bands covered the tops of his arms. He turned and walked to the door, nodding to the attendant who would escort him to the Pit.

"Your opponents are wearing more armour," the attendant said.

Ricin smiled. He wore black leather pants, boots, and was bare-chested except for the forearm wraps and the black leather strips wrapped above his biceps. "If you fear the kiss of a weapon, then you must hide behind armour. I am sufficiently clothed."

"This match is to the death."

"Just so."

Ricin followed the attendant to the entrance of the Pit. Three large, muscular men stood together. One man was dressed in heavy chain mail armour and carried a long sword and shield. The second wore hard-boiled leather and held a seven-foot-long spear with a barbed hook and sharp point. The third had a sword strapped over his shoulder and three long knives sheathed at the hip, boot, and forearm. All of them wore armour in the manner of the Pits, protective but not so heavy or excessive as to slow their attacks.

Ricin faced each man and bowed. "May you attain perfection in your contest today."

The man with the spear returned the bow. "Good luck to you as well, Ricin."

A loud horn sounded and the door opened. The four men entered the fighting area together and fanned out with their backs touching the high wall of the Pit. The crowd roared as the announcer stood from his seat and raised his hands for silence. He waited until the crowd was quiet before speaking.

"Ladies and gentlemen! After an exciting day filled with astounding feats of bravery and skill, we arrive at the main event, the death match we have been anticipating for weeks!"

The crowd cheered and applauded as the announcer walked back and forth on his platform before raising his hands for silence again.

"Today is even more exciting than most because, in order to provide a fair contest, we see a matching of three fierce warriors against one. The best warriors from our lands face the best from the far-off country of Krandar."

The crowd roared once more. This time, the announcer allowed the crowd to cheer until they quieted naturally. "This contest is to the death. May fortune favour the brave souls who give their lives for our respect and admiration." He raised one hand and then dropped it to signal the fight had begun.

Ricin unsheathed his weapons and stepped away from the wall. His opponents did the same.

The pit was large and none of them rushed forward recklessly. Ricin's eyes locked onto his opponents as they moved towards him. His breath was even, his heartbeat slow.

The three approached and then stopped outside of striking distance. Ricin claimed the centre point of the Pit and waited for the attack.

One man drew the dagger from his back and threw it. Ricin leaned backwards to avoid it and saw that the long spear was already streaking forward to strike the spot where his torso would be. He jumped and spun, the movement causing him to avoid both the spear and dagger. He landed on his feet and immediately launched toward the man wielding the spear.

The spear was still extended as Ricin drew his blades and closed the distance between them. He could see the surprise on the man's face and he smiled. Most would have retreated and that is what the spearman had been counting on. Ricin sliced into the man's leather armour at the waist. He felt the texture against his knife become soft and, without hesitating, plunged the blade deep into the man's abdomen. The opponent grunted and pulled away. The involuntary action saved his life as Ricin's second blade passed through the air where the man's neck had been a moment before.

Ricin dodged back and his attackers did the same. The crowd roared and got to their feet.

The three opponents knelt together for a moment and spoke. Then they turned to face Ricin and began advancing as one.

Ricin bowed at the waist, his eyes locked on the man with the spear. Both blades were drawn, and Ricin blinked, once, twice, and then a third time before they were within striking distance.

"That's it," the doctor said as he watched Ricin bow to the three men advancing.

"What do you mean?" Prince Adam asked.

"Just watch."

Demenik leaned forward, his chin jutting past the edge of the railing to get a good look at the battleground below.

The opponents were less than three feet away from him when Ricin sprang forward. His blades moved so fast that they appeared to be nothing more than flashing light, first streaking towards the man in the centre, then appearing to the left, followed by the right.

In the space of three heartbeats, Ricin was the only man standing in the Pit.

The stadium became silent, the effect of the sudden quiet making Demenik think he had gone deaf.

Ricin bowed once more and then walked to each fallen warrior. He touched the first man on his wound, then traced a small circle in blood on the dead man's forehead before moving to repeat the gesture with the next, careful to use a clean finger and each man's blood for his own marking. When the action was completed, he stepped back and knelt on the sand. He closed his eyes, bowed until his forehead touched the ground, then stood and walked to the door.

"That was incredible," the prince whispered. "Did he use magic?"

The doctor raised his eyebrow and shrugged. "See those armbands he wears?"

"Yes."

"Those bands are given to only one warrior in each generation. Ricin is a very special man."

"In Krandar?"

"In the world."

"What do they signify?"

"That he has been kissed by the god."

"Which god?"

"Death."