"Luck," Joe called out. And then the line of prisoners had passed
through the iron door into the glaring light of the Arena.
* * * * *
Barrent lived through the hand-to-hand duels in which a quarter of the
prisoners were killed. After that, men armed with swords were matched
against the deadlier Omegan fauna. The beasts they fought included the
hintolyte and the hintosced--big-jawed, heavily armored monsters whose
natural habitat was the desert region far to the south of Tetrahyde.
Fifteen men later, these beasts were dead. Barrent was matched with a
Saunus, a flying black reptile from the western mountains. For a while
he was hard-pressed by this ugly, poison-toothed creature. But in time
he figured out a solution. He stopped trying to jab the Saunus's
leathery hide and concentrated on severing its broad fan of
tailfeathers. When he had succeeded, the Saunus's flying balance was
thrown badly off. The reptile crashed into the high wall that separated
the combatants from the spectators, and it was relatively easy to
administer the final stroke through the Saunus's single huge eye. The
vast and enthusiastic crowd in the stadium gave Barrent a lengthy round
of applause.
He moved back to the reserve pen and watched other men struggle against
the trichomotreds, incredibly fast little creatures the size of rats,
with the dispositions of rabid wolverines. It took five teams of
prisoners. After a brief interlude of hand-to-hand duelling, the Arena
was cleared again.
Now the hard-shelled criatin amphibians lumbered in. Although sluggish
in disposition, the criatins were completely protected beneath several
inches of shell. Their narrow whiplash tails, which also served them as
antennae, were invariably fatal to any man who approached them. Barrent
had to fight one of these after it had dispatched four of his fellow
prisoners.
He had watched the earlier combats carefully, and had detected the one
place where the criatin antennae could not reach. Barrent waited for his
chance and jumped for the center of the criatin's broad back.
When the shell split into a gigantic mouth--for this was the criatin
method of feeding--Barrent jammed his sword into the opening. The
criatin expired with gratifying promptness, and the crowd signified its
approval by showering the Arena with cushions.
The victory left Barrent standing alone on the blood-stained sand. The
rest of the prisoners were either dead or too badly maimed to fight.
Barrent waited, wondering what beast the Games Committee had chosen
next.
A single tendril shot up through the sand, and then another. Within
seconds, a short, thick tree was growing in the Arena, sending out more
roots and tendrils, and pulling all flesh, living or dead, into five
small feeding-mouths which circled the base of the trunk. This was the
carrion tree, indigenous to the northeastern swamps and imported with
great difficulty. It was said to be highly vulnerable to fire; but
Barrent had no fire available.
Using his sword two-handed, Barrent lopped off vines; others grew in
their place. He worked with frantic speed to keep the vines from
surrounding him. His arms were becoming tired, and the tree regenerated
faster than he could cut it down. There seemed no way of destroying it.
His only hope lay in the tree's slow movements. These were fast enough,
but nothing compared with human musculature. Barrent ducked out of a
corner in which the creeping vines were trapping him. Another sword was
lying twenty yards away, half-buried in the sand. Barrent reached it,
and heard warning shouts from the crowd. He felt a vine close around his
ankles.
He hacked at it, and other vines coiled around his waist. He dug his
heels into the sand and clashed the swords together, trying to produce a
spark.
On his first try, the sword in his right hand broke in half.
Barrent picked up the halves and kept on trying as the vines dragged him
closer to the feeding mouths. A shower of sparks flew from the clanging
steel. One of them touched a vine.
With incredible suddenness the vine burst into flame. The flame spurted
down the length of the vine to the main tree system. The five mouths
moaned as the fire leaped toward them.
If matters had been left to continue, Barrent would have been burned to
death, for the Arena was nearly filled with the highly combustible
vines. But the flames were endangering the wooden walls of the Arena.
The Tetrahyde guard detachment put the fire out in time to save both
Barrent and the spectators.
Swaying with exhaustion, Barrent stood in the center of the Arena,
wondering what would be used next against him. But nothing happened.
After a moment, a signal was made from the President's box, and the
crowd roared in applause.
The Games were over. Barrent had survived.
Still no one left his seat. The audience was waiting to see the final
disposition of Barrent, who had passed beyond the law.
He heard a low, reverent gasp from the crowd. Turning quickly, Barrent
saw a fiery dot of light appear in mid-air. It swelled, threw out
streamers of light, and gathered them in again. It grew rapidly, too
brilliant to look upon. And Barrent remembered Uncle Ingemar saying to
him, "Sometimes, The Black One rewards us by appearing in the awful
beauty of his fiery flesh. Yes, Nephew, I have actually been privileged
to see him. Two years ago he appeared at the Games, and he also appeared
the year before that...."
The dot became a red and yellow globe about twenty feet in diameter, its
lowest curve not quite touching the ground. It grew again. The center of
the globe became thinner; a waist appeared, and above the waist the
globe turned an impenetrable black. It was two globes now, one
brilliant, one dark, joined by a narrow waist. As Barrent watched, the
dark globe lengthened and changed into the unforgettable horn-headed
shape of The Dark One.
Barrent tried to run, but the huge black-headed figure swept forward and
engulfed him. He was trapped in a blinding swirl of radiance, with
darkness above it. The light bored into his head, and he tried to
scream. Then he passed out.