The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1) (51 page)

Brock completed his roll onto his feet as she landed on her hands and tumbled forward. He positioned his body between her and her staff. She crouched, glancing at her weapon on the floor behind him. She turned toward Budakis as he called the match and applause shook the Arena.

Brock lowered his staff and bent to scoop hers. Still breathing hard from the exertion of the fight, he stepped toward Jasmine.

“
Here
’
s your staff. You put up a great fight. You
’
re the fastest I
’
ve ever faced.
”

Jasmine accepted the staff.
“
Thanks.
”

He yanked his helmet off.
“
Are you okay? You landed pretty hard.
”

She pulled hers off, revealing a mess of black hair.
“
Yeah. But I have a major headache.
”

They walked toward the stairs as a healer came down to check on the girl.

Brock left her with the healer, returning to the bench between Cam and Lars. His tall roommate clapped a big hand on his shoulder.

Lars leaned over.
“
For a little guy, you sure fight good. That must
’
ve been the fastest flurry of action I
’
ve ever seen.
”

Brock snorted.
“
Thanks, Lars. She was tough. I
’
d hate to face her again. It could have gone either way.
”

The crowd quieted, causing everyone to look toward the center of the room. Vandermark announced the next two names. Lars was one of them. He scooped up his helmet and huge sword as he headed across the floor.

Overpowering his foe, Lars won his duel. Cam went next, handily beating the squat, thick-muscled boy he had faced.

The last battle was Corbin versus Ian, one of his own sycophants. From Brock
’
s perspective, Ian made a pathetic effort of pretending to put up a fight. As expected, Corbin won easily. Also as expected, he played to the crowd, savoring the attention.

Following Corbin
’
s victory, Vandermark announced a brief intermission before they resumed for the day
’
s final round.

Corbin sat at the far end of the benches from where Brock sat. Lars talked with Cam, but their words slid past Brock. His attention was on Corbin. He found himself wishing for a chance to beat the irritating grin off the face of the arrogant, self-centered bastard. Feeling the heat of anger brewing in his gut, he glanced up to where Ashland was seated. When her eyes caught his, she gave him a nod. The anger seemed to melt, changing to firm resolve.

Vandermark coaxed the crowd to a hush and made the next announcement.

“
We have reached our final round for today, with two bouts remaining. The winners of these two duels will advance to the finals, to be held in two days, where they will vie for the title of Arena Champion.
”

Vandermark paused, waiting for the applause to subside before continuing.
“
For the first of today
’
s final matches, I call Cameron DeSanus and Lars Merling to the floor.
”

The two boys grabbed their helmets and weapons and trotted to the center of the floor. As Lars slid his helmet into place, Brock observed a resigned look on the massive boy
’
s face. Cam
’
s expression was as stoic as ever. The two listened to Budakis before he cleared the area. The bell rang, the crowd roared, and they sprang into action.

Brock glanced toward Corbin, who was staring back at him. Corbin made a gesture across his throat with his index finger. Brock
’
s eyes narrowed, otherwise betraying no response. The exchange lasted a few minutes, interrupted when the crowd went wild.

Brock
’
s focus shifted to his two friends
’
duel. Cam was standing over Lars, who held his shoulder as he squirmed on the floor. Cam knelt beside his injured friend. A healer ran in, kneeling on the other side of Lars. Less than a minute later, Cam reached out a hand and hauled Lars to his feet. The two clapped each other on the back, and the crowd went wild.

As his two friends approached, Brock glanced toward Ashland and took a deep breath, finding that feeling of resolve.

Vandermark took the floor and announced the last two contestants.

Brock stood, pulling his helmet down over his ears. Cam and Lars clapped him on the back, wishing him luck. Corbin was already halfway to the center, waving to the cheering crowd as he crossed the floor.

When they reached Vandermark, the headmaster wished them luck and retreated as Budakis approached.

“
You boys know the rules. On the signal, give it your best.
”
He grinned.
“
This is it. Win this and you
’
re fighting in the finals.
”

Brock nodded and took position. When Budakis stepped away, Corbin began his taunting.

“
I
’
ve been waiting for this, wishing for a chance to crush you publicly.
”

Brock responded,
“
Be careful what you wish for.
”

“
You
’
re going to feel pain, you little bastard,
”
Corbin snarled.

“
We
’
ll see.
”

The bell rang, the crowd erupted and the two rivals launched into action.

Corbin came in hard, swinging his longsword in a wide arc. Brock blocked the strike and then jabbed at the taller boy
’
s leg. While Brock connected with Corbin
’
s thigh, it had minimal effect since it was at the end of the thrust. Corbin
’
s long reach and long weapon created a greater reach advantage than anyone else Brock had fought.

Lifting his arm to swing again, Corbin
’
s arm came down at an angle. Brock twisted and flicked his wrists to swat the strike, redirecting it so it swept past him. Brock swung his staff downward as he jumped back, the butt of the staff scraping Corbin
’
s forearm and leaving an angry red streak.

Corbin
’
s face contorted into anger. He lifted his sword high for a killing blow, chopping downward. Brock lifted his staff, bracing both arms for the impact. The longsword struck the center of the staff. A loud crack and clang sounded as Brock staggered backward, white spots invading his vision. He shook his head, blinking to clear the tears from his eyes. His head hurt from the glancing blow to the helmet.

He looked up just in time to see Corbin
’
s sword cutting through the air, aimed at his neck. Brock ducked and rolled away to get clear. When he came to his feet, he looked down at the staff, now in two pieces.
How did that happen?

He reversed his grip on each of the staff halves, holding them like two short swords. Luckily, he had some training with the short sword and knew the basic forms.

He faced Corbin, who had an evil grin on his face.
“
You
’
re going down now, boy.
”

Rather than respond, Brock waited for Corbin to attack. He didn
’
t have to wait long. Corbin took a wide swing, going for another killing blow. Brock dove forward and ducked. As the swing flew over Brock
’
s head, he stabbed upward, jamming the butt of his shortened staff into Corbin
’
s groin. He rolled to Corbin
’
s shield side, away from the reach of his opponent
’
s sword.

Regaining his footing, he saw Corbin bent over in pain. Brock released a flurry of left-right strikes with the two staff halves. Corbin held his shield up to block the blows, but took a number of solid hits on the back before he scrambled away.

Corbin turned toward him, his face in a grimace of pain. After a couple breaths, Corbin
’
s face contorted in anger. With a roar, he lunged, driving the tip of his longsword at Brock
’
s chest. Brock twisted, the sword scraping along the fabric of his sparring vest. With Corbin in close, Brock brought his arm around with the butt of the half-staff leading. The staff struck Corbin
’
s chin, causing his head to snap back. Like a rag doll, he crumbled to the floor.

Brock stared down at Corbin, panting from the exchange. Time seemed to slow. Corbin didn
’
t move as blood dripped from his mouth. The Arena was eerily quiet. He glanced at Budakis, who was staring at Corbin. Brock then looked toward the stairs, where he saw Ashland in mid-descent.

Time lurched forward. Budakis jumped in and called the match while holding Brock
’
s arm high. The crowd erupted. The sound was deafening. Ashland ran in, kneeling next to Corbin. She rolled him onto his side as he coughed, spraying blood onto the dirt floor. She looked up at Brock.

“
He bit the tip of his tongue off. I can heal him, but I can
’
t grow it back. He
’
ll never be the same.
”

Brock shrugged. He thought he would feel satisfaction from beating his mean-spirited rival. Instead, he just felt numb.

Corbin
’
s body shuddered, indicating he had been healed. However, he still lay unconscious. Ashland patted his cheek. After a moment, he stirred. Corbin sat up, shaking the cobwebs from his head. Ashland offered to help him stand, but he pushed her away. Rising to his feet, he shoved Brock aside as he stumbled toward the changing room.

Budakis stepped close to Brock.
“
Let me look at that.
”
He grabbed the two pieces of the broken staff, inspecting the ends where it split.
“
I knew it. I
’
ve never seen a wooden sword snap a quarterstaff like that. Someone tampered with your staff, Brock.
”
He held an end up for Brock to see.
“
See how the outer part of the break is straight and clean and only the core is splintered?
”

Budakis handed the two halves back to Brock and walked away. Brock stared at them, not sure what to think. He looked toward the cheering crowd, still feeling detached from the moment.

Brock knew he was victorious. He had beaten Corbin, whom he detested. He was advancing to the finals, but he felt no sense of accomplishment. Instead, he felt an overwhelming sense of dread as if his future had grown dark.

CHAPTER 81

Brock sat in the stands with his friends. Benny watched intently, trying to gauge how he should place his bets for today
’
s contest. He had already won big with the money he had placed on Brock and Cameron. His new goal was to pick all four finalists, so he watched the opening round closely to gauge the skill of each victor.

Brock
’
s heart wasn
’
t in it. He had felt off, distracted since his duel with Corbin. Something was bothering him, but he had no idea what it was.

Cam leaned close.
“
Who is she?
”

Brock looked to where Cam pointed, seeing the red haired apprentice paladin. While Brock had healed her opponents numerous times, he had never seen her get a scratch.

“
Her name is Tegan,
”
he replied.
“
She
’
s good. Fast, agile, and strong.
”

Cam nodded as he watched her dance around her opponent. She landed numerous strikes that her foe tried in vain to counter.
“
She
’
s amazing.
”

Tegan
’
s opponent became frustrated, leveling a wide-arcing blow at her hip. She leapt into the air, flipped over the strike, and landed to face his open backside. She jammed one of her swords into his exposed armpit, and he fell to one knee. The match was called, and a healer ran out. The crowd jumped to its feet, clapping and yelling.

Cameron stood, craning his neck to watch Tegan as she walked back to the bench. He was enthralled, watching her every move. Brock hadn
’
t ever seen him like this.

The round completed with eight apprentice-level combatants remaining. The adept-level fighters were up next.

Distracted, the round passed without Brock realizing it. At the following intermission, he decided to leave and get some air.