GODS AT THE CENTRE ( EDITING)

CHAPTER XXVIII, IKAN: BETS

Muscles budged, shiny with sweat. They threatened to burst from skin drawn taut. The wrestlers strained, arms interlocked.

The one called Slippery, a man Ikan found quite lithe when compared to his beefy opponent, glided his hips backwards as if he was losing balance. Unsettled brown sand stirred dust.

The crowd in the arena bought the feint and went wild in expectation. "He is falling oh!" His beefy opponent fell forward with Slippery's momentum. He was no longer in control. If Slippery pulled at a limb now, he would fall! And he did just that, Slippery seized a leg deftly and pulled. This was it!

His beefy opponent remained unmoved like a rock. Slippery's shock was visible for all to see but it became even clearer when his opponent gave him a brutal shove. Slippery's lighter frame went crashing to the sand.

Ikan hissed. So much for style against brute force. The jubilation drowned everything. Soon the beefy one was in the arms of his supporters.

"I could see your scowl from my seat, high councillor. You should bet on bigger men next time. Wrestling is on the force, muscle power first before anything else."

Ikan had a thing or two to say to counter the newcomer but he swallowed his words. He didn't want to look like a sour loser. Ikan sighed. With a turn of the head, he was looking at Ezah, he who dwells amongst plenty in the desert.

"May, I sit?" He said politely, his rich perfume impressed itself on Ikan's nose strongly. Rich perfumes from the East.

"Citizens of Alamaria may sit wherever they wish in the arena," Ikan said with a carefully cultivated air of indifference. He would have a word later with his guard, Mefi. Where had he gone? People shouldn't be able to approach him without warning.

Ezah sank to the seat of the theatre with a low chuckle. "The days are getting hotter," he exasperated. "I have had my windows open for many a night now. It is always that way when the season of the sun draws to end."

Ikan nodded in agreement. "The leaves have already begun to fall."

Silence reigned between them. Ikan considered the grey luanzi of the Ezah motif with sharp silver fishes. Heavy clothing, despite his complaining. What did Ezah want now? He would say it eventually but if he wanted small talk, Ikan would give it to him. "I hear trade is going well for you?"

Ezah shrugged. A self-pleased shrug. "
It is the work of the gods. What can we do? Someone has to fill in the gap left by the Ozains and Orains. I have taken control of trades that they monopolised. The masses will now get cheaper wool."

Replacing their monopoly with yours.
Their fall brought you a great opportunity and you're sucking it all.

The arena was nearly empty there would be no more matches this early evening.

Ezah took out an alanut from the folds of his robe. He broke a lobe but Ikan declined before he made to offer him.
"It's six lobes! A good omen. Prosperity!"

Ikan nodded dryly.

Ezah began to chew noisily. Lobe after lobe disappeared into his mouth. He tucked the last one away and looked at Ikan intently. "Councillor, the elections are coming."

He was finally stating his purpose. "Yes." Ikan started and left it at that. Ezah yawned and flexed his fingers without care. His white fingers with tips were too pink as if blood was drying on them.

"You will have no rivals. You will be returned unopposed. "

"That may be so. The gods will decide."

Ezah snickered as if in mockery. "Yes, the gods. Councillor, our people say scratch my back and I will scratch yours. I believe I have helped you scratch a particular itch of yours." His eyes drew close and his voice almost a whisper as if he was saying a secret.