### 193

Torvax commands the guardsmen to wait. Then he swaggers over to where you lie and he looks down at you with a thoughtful expression fixed upon his lordly face. His eyes glitter darkly.

‘You lack weight … I like my fighters to have weight of muscle,’ he sneers, ‘but you have strength of spirit. I have seen gladiators who could lift an ox with their bare hands defeated in the arena by puny men with fire in their souls. Perhaps you have fire in your soul, Northlander? Fire enough to win for me the victor’s purse?’

Torvax signals to the guardsmen and they pull you to your feet. ‘Very well, you fight for me at dusk. You will fight Dromodon the Invincible and you will win.’

‘And if I lose?’ you say, barely daring to ask the question.

‘Then you die, Northlander. The final combat of the circus is always to the death!’

Turn to 82.