"You said you would visit me two days ago at the latest," Shaleh chided as she and Nurlan headed towards the field where the games were taking place. She felt flushed with excitement. Not because she was with Nurlan - he was much too serious to be exciting - but rather because it was the only time she had been out of the tents since having dinner in King Kirill's tent three days earlier. Her mother refused to allow her to go out in case she missed him coming to call on her. For someone used to wandering around the plains as she wished it had been torture. Being free put her in a jovial mood, but she was also still annoyed that Nurlan had taken so long to visit her and free her from her boredom.

"It had been my intention but something grave came up that I could not avoid," he replied.

"What could be so grave that kept you away?"

"Two of my warriors disappeared. They did not return from their patrol. I had to search for them. After I found the bodies I had to do a thorough sweep of the area to try and find the killer."

Shaleh stopped and raised her hand to her face. "I'm sorry. That sounds awful! Were they close to you?"

"Yes. I had trained them both. They were good men and leave behind families."

Shaleh felt  twinge of guilt that moments ago she had been angry at him for making her wait so long to get free of her tent.

"Did you find who did it?"

"Not yet."

"Can I do anything?" she asked.

"You can keep talking. It distracts me from other thoughts." He did not mention that there was something specific he wanted from her - information. She was the daughter of the Empa Chief, and Alam and Tajar said they were Empa as well. If they were telling the truth, and he was sure they were, then she would know something about them. That is why he was directing their steps towards the games. The prisoners would be facing their fourth challenge in The Pit soon.

"My father trained me to be a warrior. I can help in ways other than just talking," she offered.

"I don't doubt it," he nodded. "But at the moment what would help me the most is talking with you."

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked.

A group of laughing children rushed around them chased by a couple youths. As they passed, Shaleh saw the oldest of them pause and bow his head to Nurlan. Nurlan gave no indication that he had seen it.

That's nine people.

"Hmm... Let us talk about clothes," said Nurlan.

"Clothes?" she said in surprise. "I didn't think men cared about clothes."

"Some do, some don't," he said. "But that is not the point. Last time we met you were dressed like a princess from a far away land. Today you are not. Is this how you usually dress?"

Shaleh stopped walking and looked hard at him. "You are definitely an unusual man. That's the kind of question that people usually keep in their minds, if they think it at all."

"They want us to marry so I need to find out about you as quickly as possible."

"Fine. No, this is not what I usually look like. Mother chose this because it is my second best outfit. Worn, but not too worn. My normal clothes are more simple than this. She also insisted that she put some subtle paint on my face. I also don't usually wear my hair up. And what about you? Why do you wear the red silk beneath your tunic?"

"It was my father's. I wear it to remember him."

"You have had a lot of loss in your life haven't you?"

"No more than most. But today is a happy day so let's focus on that instead of sorrow."

As they passed a group of people haggling over goats Shaleh saw two of the hagglers dip their heads to Nurlan.

Eleven.

"You know," said Shaleh, "even though I have spent the last few days cooking, it hasn't been a complete waste of time."

"I did not realise that cooking was a waste of time."

"It isn't, I suppose. But what I was going to say is that even though I did not venture out of the tent, people did come in. And those that came in brought with them some interesting rumours. I think you may be able to set some of them straight."

"What rumours are they?"

"That your father was the Khashbal Chief before Kirill. They say he was the best of chiefs."

"Yes. He was a great man."

"They also said that you were too young to rule. Is that why didn't you become Chief?"

"I was young and naive when Kirill took my father's throne. I made a promise to him that he could rule if he protected my family."

"Did he keep his promise?"

"No."

"But you have kept yours."

"Yes. What is the value of a promise if it is not kept? Now it is my turn," he said. Around them the noise of people was swelling. They entered the field and walked past deserted archery lanes and wrestling circles. "Why don't you want to marry me?" He said it without any hint of rejection in his voice. It was as if he were asking if it was going to rain.

Shaleh could not help but laugh. "Normal people don't ask questions like that!"

"I never said I was normal. Now please answer the question."

They entered the press of people gathered on the rocks overlooking The Pit. The crowd parted for them - for Nurlan really. As they reached the perfect position to watch the challenge Shaleh saw him. Her heart stopped. Her hand went to her mouth.

"Alam..."

Nurlan looked at her staring wide-eyed at Alam in the Pit below. He had the answer to his question.

***

Tolegan threw four bags of money into the Pit. He was smiling and joking with his nearby warriors. Looking around the Pit, Alam could tell that Tolegan was setting the odds against the prisoners harder with each game. The prisoners' bucket of paint had only short sticks and four arrows sticking out of it. Long sticks, it seemed, were no longer an option. In contrast the challengers had a defend-able structure made of upturned carts. Between the prisoners and challengers the floor of The Pit was sparsely littered with small cover in the form of boxes.

"We will have to draw them out," said Alam. He picked up a nearby box and smashed it on the ground. He pulled a couple of broken planks off and held rest in his left hand.

"I've got my shield."

"Good idea," said Prall finding the next closest box.

"Do you want one Frost?" Alam asked.

"Shields are for the slow and the stupid," she replied.

"Which one am I?" he asked.

"I am still deciding. What is the plan?" she asked.

"Tajar, find the best shooting position from the left side. Frost, if you're so clever, you draw their fire. Get in their range so they shoot but don't let them hit you. Prall and I will distract them by slowly moving from box to box with our shields until they run out of arrows. Tajar, wait for me to call 'retreat' and then pick them off. We'll try to draw them out by thinking they've got us on the run."

The bell sounded to start the challenge.

"There are a lot of 'maybes' in that plan," smiled Tajar. Before trotting off he bowed to his gaggle of loyal supporters on the rocks who cheered their support.

"He's an idiot," said Frost.

"Yes, but look what a smart idiot he is," replied Prall pointing to Tajar's admirers.

"That does not even make sense," said Frost as she sprinted towards the challengers upturned carts.

"Come on Prall, let's make some noise," said Alam with a smile. He was beginning to enjoy these contests. His stomach was still in knots but at least he had beaten the urge to pee himself. The two men raised their makeshift shields and advanced from box to box hooting.

Tajar set himself up and waited behind a box some forty paces from their opponents. Frost ran far too close to the upturned carts. An opponent stood up and fired at her. It was a good shot. But she was too fast for the slow, paint soaked arrows. She bent over backwards collapsing downwards. The shaft skittered along the ground in behind her.

"Collect the arrows!" shouted Tajar. "I only have two!" He drew the string back and fired an awful shot that splattered noisily on the wood in front of the archer. "Damn!" he shouted. He loaded a second arrow and fired it senselessly at the structure. It flew helplessly over the top and landed behind them.

"He's out!" came a shout from within the carts. All four stood up with bows bent and fired. Frost ducked one. A second one hit her foot. Alam and Prall caught the other two on their shields as they continued to advance. All four challengers pulled new arrows to their bows.

"Hit the witch!" One of them called out. Frost sprinted parallel to their carts towards the pool of water in the middle of the Pit. Just as they loosed their arrows she stopped dead in her tracks, spinning around, and sinking to her stomach in one fluid movement. All four arrows zipped past her and fell into the pool. She turned and ran back towards Alam and Prall who had managed to move ten paces closer.

"Hey! Frost! Where are my arrows?" shouted Tajar.

Another volley flew into the air. She ducked behind a box close to Alam and Prall.

"I'm going to let them hit me," Alam muttered to Prall. "Let's make some noise." He roared and pressed forward. The bows trained on him and fired. He crouched down behind his makeshift shield, but left an arm jutting out. With a sting and a splat an arrow hit his elbow. Paint sprayed everywhere.

"I'm hit! Retreat!" Alam turned and ran. Prall and Frost followed suit. The challengers jumped over the upturned carts with a roar. Tajar let them get ten paces away from the carts before he stood up. A challenger was racing towards him with victory written on his face. Tajar brought up his bow and effortlessly shot the man in the gut.

The bell pealed out.

Before the rest of the challengers could realise what was going on he loosed his final arrow. Its flight was perfectly timed to intersect with one of them running towards Frost. Paint smeared across his jaw.

The bell rang out again.

Alam turned around smiling at the remaining challengers. They skidded to a halt and looked around in dismay. Prall bent over laughing and pointing at the man with a red jaw.

"Circle," Alam said. The instruction was unnecessary. Frost was already flanking, getting between them and their defenses. Tajar had picked up a used arrow and was closing in from the left.

"Are you with us Prall?" asked Alam moving opposite to Tajar in the hope of turning them.

"I will take them," said Frost.

"By yourself?"

"Yes. I must recover my pride. I was hit."

"So was I."

"But you let them."

"Fine," said Alam. Prall had recovered himself and joined the circle. "Tajar hold your fire."

"I will give her twenty," he replied in a voice that carried to the entire crowd. "One, two..."

She stepped forward with a stony face twirling her two short sticks. The two men looked at her uncertainly.

"...five, six..."

"You look like you are afraid of me," she said

"...nine, ten..."

"Your wives must be shamed to have such cowardly men."

"...fourteen..."

They charged. She ducked to the left and jutted out her leg. One of them tripped to the ground. The other man rounded on her but she had already thrown a stick. It hit him square in the chest.

The bell rang out.

"...eighteen..."

The fallen man was getting up. She took two quick steps towards him and vaulted over him with a flip. Alam had never seen anything like it. The crowd gasped in astonishment. The man's stick was too slow. It whistled uselessly through the air. She landed behind him. With the speed of a viper she pulled his head back by the hair and drew her stick across his throat streaking red paint across it. For good measure Tajar's arrow hit him in the side.

"Twenty!"

The bell rang out.

She kissed the paint smeared man on the cheek and walked away.

The audience erupted. Prall burst into laughing. Tajar turned towards his adoring supporters hooting and thrusting his hands in the air. Alam felt ecstatic. His eyes fell on the small bags of coins. Recklessness washed over him. He walked over and took them in his hand.

"Put those down, prisoner!" Tolegan shouted.

Instead, he emptied their contents into his hands and threw them into the crowd. A joyful riot started as people scrambled to claim them. He then noticed that Prall had stopped laughing. He was pointing upwards to the rocky outcrops.

"It's the boy! He's come to see us today!"

Alam followed his gaze and the world stopped.

"Shaleh."

She was watching from the rocks. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered, if that was possible. Unbidden his legs started taking him to her. Her hands were covering her mouth as she stared at him.

"Shaleh!" he waved.

She wiped her eyes. His heart expanded and a grin the size of the sun broke on his face. He began to scramble up the side of the Pit towards her. Strong hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him back. Tolegan's guards threw him on his back. He felt fury flood into him.

"Leave me alone!"

Instead they pummeled him, and wrestled him to the ground.

"Get off me!"

Ropes appeared and he was tied up. Just before the bag went over his head he saw Shaleh weeping with Nurlan by her side.

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-Y. V. Qualls