Legends of Klane Kalonia 03 : The Great Burning
Table of Contents
Part 1 : Journey to Ironhope Part 2 : The Anvil & Hammer Part 3 : Around the Town Part 4 : Violence & Intimidation Part 5 : The Order of the Silent Word Part 6 : The First Day of the Games Part 7 : The Last Day of the Games Part 8 : The Auction Part 9 : The Duel Part 10 : An Early Departure Part 11 : The Great Burning Part 12 : Exodus Part 13 : Lucalle Part 14 : AberstonePart 4 : Violence & Intimidation
As he was returning to the inn, Klane heard shouting and a couple of high pitched women's screams. Quickly rounding the corner into a lane between the brewery and the bakery he was confronted with a full blooded fight in progress.
There'd been a large scale brawl involving an unknown number of men but it wasn't much of a fight now, more of a beating since one side had clearly come out much the worse. Four men lay prone on the floor, on the receiving end of kicks and punches whilst their one standing comrade was surrounded and taking heavy blows from his enemies. Before Klane had time to assess the situation further, a commanding voice was bellowing over the turmoil to make himself heard.
"Stop! Lay off! That's enough boys! They've learnt their lesson!" It was Muttu at the head of the Southern Pralannians and his word seemed to carry weight with the victors for they broke off with cries of derision and shouts of laughter. Klane went over to one of the fallen men who lay groaning on the street.
"Can you help me get to my brother's house?" he asked. "He's the blacksmith for Ironhope. I have to speak with him!"
Muttu frowned when Klane offered support to the wounded man as he struggled to stand.
"It'd be best for you if you stay out of this quarrel" he advised. "Don't get mixed up in what you don't understand!"
A small crowd of sympathetic onlookers followed Klane's lead and closed in to aid the injured men as soon as the Southern Pralannians's left. The fallen Rider, who Klane had first approached, having satisfied himself that his friends were still alive and being taken care of, exchanged a few brief muttered words with them and then once again urged Klane to help him reach his brother. Klane agreed. Though not far, it was a slow and difficult journey through the streets of Ironhope. Klane's companion was in a great deal of pain and could only limp with a lot of support from the younger man. He introduced himself as Ethan from the Thranish Rider tribe and said his brother’s name was Gillan.
"This was no accident," he muttered darkly. "That fight was planned a long time ago." Then as if he'd said more than he should, he lapsed into silence broken only by the occasional gasp of pain and a heartfelt curse when he stumbled.
At last they reached the blacksmith's house and were admitted with a shout of outrage and concern from the ironworker and a shocked gasp of fear and horror from his wife. Ethan was helped to the bed and a cup of water was brought for him.
“You are an angel of mercy, Clara!” he said before he drank deeply and put the cup down. Then he retold the story of the fight and how his companions had been caught unawares and set upon.
“We never had a chance; there were too many of them,” he said. “Oh they had some stupid pretext about camping ground rights but that was an excuse. The real reason was to stop us competing tomorrow. They got Rhul, Klem and Whiton, and they’ve hurt them pretty hard. Three of our best Riders but not schooled in fighting - which those thugs certainly knew! There’s no way they’ll be able to ride in the games now.”
The blacksmith and his wife exchanged a worried glance. “That was our last hope!” the woman said. Gillan silenced her with another look.
“We very much wanted my brother’s tribe to win my labour tokens in the games,” he said. “And since they had the better Riders, that’s how it should have been.”
“The Pralannian’s have changed. They think of nothing but their weapons now and they prize skilled metal workers above all others,” Ethan interrupted. “They want them to make swords and axes in their forges so they can play power games no Rider tribe has any business with.” He scowled with a mixture of contempt and pain. “They weren’t going to win the blacksmith in a fair contest, so they’re fixing the games with dirty tricks.”
Klane caught the anxious glances between the three of them and sensed that this was not the full story. There was something else going on here which he wasn’t being told.
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