The Emperor's Edge 3: Deadly Games

The Emperor's Edge 3: Chapter 8 Part 2

Basilard hopped up and down and swung his arms. He was one of six athletes left in the staging area, and he did not think anyone else appeared as nervous as he. Though it was the first day of events, and only a third of the benches in the stadium were filled, Basilard could not help but feel as if thousands of eyes watched him. Already, he had visited the washouts beneath the stands three times, both to urinate and to throw up.

He remembered being nervous before the pit fights, but not this nervous. Strange, considering his life had been on the line there, and people had shouted and jeered from above, calling out for bloodshed. Maybe it was because he had more to win here. It wasn’t just an extension of his own existence, but a visit with the emperor and a chance to speak for his people. If he did not get himself killed trying to take out Sicarius first. He growled at himself, annoyed with the situation. He never should have gone to visit that priestess.

Basilard distracted himself by studying a large blackboard near the furnace. So far, two people had beaten the best time he had recorded with Maldynado or Akstyr. He hoped daylight—and the exhilaration of the moment coursing through his blood—would help him improve. To go out in the first round would be a shame.

“It’s all right,” a familiar voice said. “I’m his coach.”

“You don’t look like a coach. You look like a professor.”

“Why, thank you,” Books said.

Basilard lifted a hand toward the young man tasked with keeping intruders from bothering the athletes in the staging area. He let Books through with a suspicious glower.

Books weaved past other athletes swinging their arms and stretching in the sandy pit. “Greetings, Basilard,” he said. “Are you prepared for your event?”

Yes.

“Good.” Books unfolded a piece of paper. “I found those other two names. They are indeed athletes here. One is a male boxer and one a female entered in the Clank Race.” He considered the men surrounding them. “Did the women already compete?”

Earlier this morning.

“She’s not missing yet—she’s the only one on that list who isn’t. The boxer disappeared last night. If we could find the girl and watch her, perhaps we could get a glimpse of the kidnapper.”

Books?

“Yes?”

I race soon. I must concentrate.

“Oh. Yes, of course. Do you want me to watch, or leave you alone?”

Stay. Cheer. He lifted an arm and imitated some of the enthused people in the stands.

“I’ve not attended many sporting events,” Books said. “Is that arm-pumping action required?”

Absolutely. Basilard flashed a grin.

“Clapping won’t suffice?”

Clap for others’ performances. Cheer for me.

“Ah, very well.”

“Temtelamak?” the man queuing the athletes called.

Basilard lifted an arm, then told Books, That’s my imperial athlete name.

Books’s eyes widened. “Temtelamak? Why?”

Thought enforcers would recognize ‘Basilard,’ and Maldynado said my Mangdorian name didn’t sound fierce enough.

“Did he tell you who Temtelamak was?” Books lowered his voice to mutter, “I’m surprised that uneducated buffoon knows that much history.”