The Gladiator, Chapter 3
#3 of The Gladiator
It was found that proper application of the rune to an oiled blade surface allows such force to be directed along the path of a spear. Swords may be prepared in this manner as well, although the outward force of the rune makes traditional two-handed grips impossible, thus limiting a swordsman's ability to penetrate the beast's scales.
Various humans
A Southwestern Compendium of Armaments, 2nd ed.
Rolas found a note folded near his tail when he woke up:
Went out for a walk. Don't leave apartment, not safe. Talk to Qurial if hungry. Don't know when I'll be back.
- Kayo
He felt he should be annoyed at seeing the words "went out for a walk" and "don't leave... not safe" on the same piece of paper, but he couldn't sum up the strength. A much larger cage was an improvement, although still a cage.
Stretching like a cat and sniffing at the air, he took in all the smells he had missed during yesterday's panic. Satisfied, he lumbered down the stairs.
"Well, good morning," said Qurial. "What can I do for our newest resident?"
The man seemed nervous, like he expected to be dragon food if he didn't choose his words carefully.
"Where's Kayo?"
"Nabso told me he saw her leave some time last night."
"Have anything to eat?"
"I am - " He hesitated. " - not supposed to serve dragons. Not without their master's permission."
"She left me a note. Here."
Qurial took the paper and scanned it. "That is her handwriting, yes. Not quite the paperwork I needed her to do, but that's alright. I'll get you something to eat. Stick it on her tab, I guess. Unless you have money on you?"
Rolas shook his head.
Qurial instructed the dragon to wait outside on top of the stairs. He had two workers haul out a large mass of red, dripping meat. They dropped it unceremoniously onto the clay.
"Thanks," said Rolas.
The day was bright under the desert sun, but a light breeze cooled the air to a pleasant temperature. Rolas basked on the building's stoop, perched like a gargoyle, head turning to watch people pass by. His scales shone strange, alien colors in the sunlight, and people stopped to admire the sight.
"Look," one such passerby said, holding the hand of a toddler in a way that pointed toward the creature, "it's a dragon, honey!"
"Hawk!" the child chirped, looking with wide, blue eyes.
His parents were overjoyed. "Yes, honey! A Crystal Hawk," they said.
Rolas tore a fresh piece of meat free and chewed it loosely, letting blood trickle down his jaws. The parents turned the child away before he could see, and hurried off down the street, throwing hateful glares over their shoulders.
As if on queue, Kayo strolled around the corner.
"Already terrorizing the populace, I see."
"It's not very difficult," said the dragon, gore sloshing around in his mouth.
"That's disgusting. What are you doing outside? Chew, then speak."
He swallowed. Kayo felt an all-too-familiar twinge of arousal.
"Your landlord must not like getting blood on his nice, clean floors."
"Speaking of that, it doesn't seem like Qurial to just give away good meat," said Kayo.
"He didn't." Rolas smiled, bits of red clinging to his teeth. "I think he charged you."
Kayo thought of her wooden box and the few golden ten-piece coins inside.
"Where have you been?" he asked.
"Walking."
"I gathered that." He took another mouthful of red. "You look like shit."
She began to scale the stairs. "Not much sleep."
"Tough to sleep when you're walking, I've heard."
She frowned. "Very funny. Finish that up, we have work to do."
"Already?"
"Yeah."
"No rest period? I just got here, you know."
"It's not that kind of work."
No, she thought, thumbing the hilt of her short sword, it's always that kind of work in the pens district.
"So what's the rush?"
Kayo grunted and sat down on the top step, next to Rolas's breakfast. "We need a sponsor - a good sponsor - and we need one fast."
"We?" He tilted his head like a bird.
"Yeah, we. If I can't find us a sponsor with a decent down payment by tonight, I can't afford to buy you food. Or pay the rent."
"You're really cutting it close, aren't you."
"Male trainers can hold side jobs for cash. For females it's a bit more difficult to find positions."
This seemed strange to him, but he didn't press the issue. "Where'd you get your money?"
She wiped some blood from the clay with her finger, inspecting it. "Stealing, mostly."
"How much did I cost?"
"Do you really want to know that?"
"Yes," he said.
Kayo ground the blood on her finger into the sand. "About six hundred fals."
"That number means nothing to me. I don't know your currency."
"More than I've payed, in total, to live in this place for eight years. More than any of the other girls have made after five years in the brothel. Way fucking more than the number over my head would be, if I were a slave." She seemed to notice what this implied, and quickly said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
"No offense taken. You seem to care a lot about money, though."
He was almost finished with his meal, beginning to pull the last few strips from the bone.
"Dragons are expensive," Kayo said. "Especially Crystal Hawks. Even the Eastern variants are real purse-busters."
"Why didn't you buy one of the Zanzos?"
"They were sick. And besides, Coppers aren't exactly known for their fighting abilities."
"And I suppose I am known for my fighting abilities." He licked his jaws, pondering the odd perspective from which he had spoken.
Kayo twirled a lock of black hair around her finger. "Well, Northern Hawks are famous all across The Continent. Eastern Hawks can fight, too, but they don't mature to flying age anywhere near as fast."
"So how could you afford me," he asked, "if I'm only one step down from the majors?"
She gave a wan half-smile at the dragon's curious choice of words. "You came at a discount. A very, very large discount."
"Why?"
"Too many reasons to list, really. You came from a botched raid. Your cagemates were sick. Your survival rate is low, considering those factors. And - " She hesitated. " - you're, well..."
"Out of shape?" he suggested.
The cruel, curved claws on thick limbs. Powerful gaze and coolly relaxed physical presence. A bulky frame that swam with muscle and tension in every movement.
I wouldn't say that, thought Kayo.
"You're too old."
"Old?" He snorted. "I'm only fifteen. You people must have a shitty life expectancy in this city."
"Too old for training, I mean."
"Too old to be brainwashed, you mean."
Kayo put on a hurt expression. "That's the gist of it, yes. Training is supposed to start early. It builds up trust, breaks down instincts, replaces them with new ones. It gets dragons ready for the - " She struggled to find a word. " - business. Certain breeds can be taken when older, but Hawks?"
"We have a shorter cutoff."
"Exactly."
"How old?"
"Unofficial maximum is eight. Optimal age is three years."
He made a whistling noise. "That must have been one hell of a discount."
This reaction surprised Kayo. "Well, yes. Imported Eastern variant, age three, healthy, in a government-approved batch size? Three thousand. Easily."
"You'd think that more people would go for older dragons, at that price."
"They've tried. They're still trying. Someone is always trying."
"Any success?"
"Queen Yabar has a token Northern Hawk. Found at ten, I think, but he probably lives in a cage. The maximum age I have ever heard of to begin training was twelve. None of those lasted through the actual training."
"So a fifteen year old has never even been persuaded to try?"
"You'd be the first, as far as I know."
He blinked. "Interesting."
"You're smart enough to understand why that is, Rolas. And your understanding of that is also why training older dragons is so difficult."
"Discipline issues," he said. "We have opinions on things. We're used to thinking, speaking, acting by ourselves."
"Yes."
Rolas wasn't learning anything new from this conversation, but having the terms of his bondage floating in open air left both of them with a sinking feeling of dread and confusion. Some things were better left unspoken.
"You should get some sleep," said Rolas.
"No time."
"What?"
"We need to head into town again. Find a sponsor. I've got a few ideas on where to start, but this could take all day."
Rolas hefted himself up and stretched. "Well, I guess I'm ready."
"Wait here. I'll be right back."
Kayo drifted up to her room, dropping the stripped bone shell that had been Rolas's breakfeast on Qurial's desk.
A little present for your generosity.
She opened the small wooden lockbox, fingered the small golden ring, and slipped the coins into her pocket.
They slid down an intestinal string of alleys which passed through the markets and exploded into the pens district. The alleyways broadened into streets and the dirt succumbed to cobblestones. People flowed up and down the wide center street between the churning crowds that stood outside the coliseums. Everything at ground level seemed to be coated in a layer of dust and sand. The sun was blinding.
Kayo thought of sliding between the pickpockets and rapists and into the coliseum pit but the idea of using Rolas as an impromptu battering ram struck her just before she made the plunge.
"You first," she said.
"What?"
"Just go."
Rolas shouldered into the crowd. He felt Kayo's hands pushing on his hindquarters and he snorted, gagging on the perspiratory smells.
"Doesn't anyone bathe around here?" he muttered when they were inside the coliseum pit's hallway.
"You'll get used to it," said Kayo.
The pit seemed to enjoy its moniker. Small, jail cell-like windows along the cramped hallway made the place feel like part of a sewer system, as did heaps of trash on the dirt floor. In every sniff of the air Rolas found nothing but the caustic smell of sweat, blood, and acid. He looked back. Kayo was unshaken. "Third door on the left," she said.
Rolas scuttled to the door and turned so Kayo could reach the door. He buried his nose under his wing to no effect. "The smell is burning inside my fucking throat. What is that?"
"Don't be such a baby."
Knock knock. No answer. Knock knock.
A voice like gopporoot smoke: "Relax, buddy ah, whassa password?"
"Nafekhel," replied Kayo. "Let us in."
"Eyuhh, ah you Kayo? Whaya mean, us? Gah yusself a friend maybe?" The voice laughed and coughed then coughed some more.
She rolled her eyes to the dragon, who shook his head and chuckled. "Nice city accents you have here."
"Emir let me in. I need to speak with Darion, sooner better than later."
"Ayuh righ. Got somzat trainuh biz going on, prolly." He opened the door and they slipped inside.
The air inside was cooler and the demon scent from the hallway, less strong. Rolas untucked his snout and looked around. There was an oakwood desk at the center of the room with a lone window behind it. An armor stand was next to the desk and beside the stand was a small set of stairs that led to a wooden door. The door was sealed with some strange iron locking mechanism.
Standing in overalls and a white dress shirt was a man with even whiter skin, smoking a pipe and scratching his five o'clock shadow. "Hella theyuh," he said.
"Hi. Okay. Look I need to speak with - "
"I ain't tayukin to you," he shouted in a curious outburst of anger or confusion, "we 'ayedy said hello, remembuh? I's talkin to scales heyuh." He motioned toward Rolas. "Wassa name?" he said.
"Rolashestul."
"Nicuh meet ya, eh? Rolashesatoll? Canuh call ya Rolly?"
"No."
"Yousa good guy Rolly, eh. Tay good caruh ma Kayo willyuh?"
"Sure." Rolas sniffed. The man smelled like a walking ashtray.
The locks on the wooden door popped open. Sunlight flushed into the room and drained out again.
"Well holy shit," said a new voice. The man was wearing a tight-fitting huntsman's lamellar that didn't seek to conceal his powerful frame. His skin was savagely tanned. "Never thought I'd see the day."
"You're seeing it, Darion." Kayo moved closer to Rolas, as if to imply ownership.
"Huyah boss, hopya dun mind me lennin her in heyuh, know how ya can beyuh bout these things-"
"Emir, go outside," Darion cut him off.
The lanky man looked hurt but it was lost beneath the daze of his high. "Wheva yasay cap'n."
The door clanked shut behind him.
Darion paced around Rolas and Kayo, who was using the dragon's shoulder as an armrest. His eyes tight, he looked Rolas up and down, stopping to crouch here and there. Satisfied, he scratched his chin and said, "Nice Kayo, but... he's got to be thirteen years old." Darion was not as easily fooled as Qurial.
"Just about," said Kayo.
Darion didn't react, and continued to scratch his chin, looking at the dragon. He addressed Rolas, "You're from Cozalbaria, right?"
The question caught rolas off guard. "How'd you know?"
Darion just chuckled. "I keep track of most of the convoys headed in that direction. So I assume Sannovian is your primary language?"
"Yes."
"Good." Darion bowed, not going very low as to maintain a casual demeanor. "My name is Darion, and yours?"
Rolas dipped his head in response. "Rolashestul."
"It's nice to meet you, Rolashestul. Myself, I own this little mudhouse." He rolled his neck back and raised his arms toward the ceiling. "It's not much compared to the government brackets, but there's a perfectly good combat field right outside that door. We've got training facilities, feeding grounds, tactical studies centers, everything a trainer - and his dragon - needs." Darion turned to Kayo, raising one of his eyebrows. "That is why you're here, right?"
"That's kind of up to you," said Kayo. After a short pause, she motioned to Rolas. "And him. I need to show him around first before we make a decision."
"Understandable. How many other places have you hit so far?"
"You'd be the first."
Darion made a whistling noise. "Damn, Kayo, I'm honored."
Don't get your hopes up.
"Look, Darion, this place has always been my first pick, but I need some money, and fast."
Darion's eyes narrowed, his stance tensing. "How much money are we talking about?"
"Full down payment. Three hundred fals at the least, plus normal rates and prize money."
"You've got to kidding me," he said, breaking into a smile. Dental care was, obviously, not one of his priorities. "You out of your fucking mind?"
"I need the money."
"Look, girl. I wouldn't put down three hundred for a government-sanctioned Eastern Hawk and its trainer. That's suicide and you know it, for a dragon of any age."
Kayo knew this, but couldn't think of any other course of action. It was full down payment or nothing at all. She prepared to spit some angry words back in his face, but, to her surprise, Rolas spoke up. "You sure about that?" he said.
Darion looked to the dragon, features twisting with rage. "I'm sorry, did I ask you to speak?"
This set Rolas off. "Listen, buddy. I'm fifteen of your worthless fucking years old, and from what I've heard, that's a pretty big deal in these circles. So if making money is a priority for you, I suggest you take this offer. I saw at least twelve other places exactly like this shithole on the way here. You don't like the deal? Fine, we'll go two doors down and find someone else," he growled.
After a moment of deliberation, Darion smirked. "Quite a mouth on you. I like that. The silent types piss me off, especially when they're older. And - " He eyed Kayo with suspicion. " - you said 'we'. You two are on a 'we' basis? Interesting."
Inside, Kayo was bubbling with something resembling pride. She tried to stay cool. "Take it or leave it. If this works out, you'll have more than made back your investment. And this will work out. Trust me."
"Trust you? Kayo the thief?"
"Would you rather it be Kayo the whore?"
After a punctuated pause, during which he fiddled with the straps of his armor vest, Darion laughed heartily. "You two drive a harder bargain than you ought to. Alright, it's a deal. And I'm a fool for agreeing to it. Go give him a tour and come back to me, I'll be waiting here." He walked over to the wooden door and pried open the locks. The sunlight washed in again. He went and stood behind his desk.
Kayo beckoned Rolas to follow her. "Come on, I'll show you around. This is a pretty nice place, managerial staff notwithstanding." The dragon trotted over, threw one last glance in Darion's direction, and stepped out into the light.
Following the dragon, Kayo stopped in the doorway and turned. "Oh, and Darion? You're smarter than that. He's fifteen, don't piss him off. You'll fuck things up for both of us."
And him, she thought.
Darion shook his head. "You're crazy, you know that?"
"Just a little."
Rolas padded across the coliseum's sparring field, enjoying the feeling of rough sand between his claws. He stopped to knead his front paws into the ground, allowing Kayo to catch up to him.
"Nice job back there, you handled that perfectly," she said.
He grumbled, trying to stop the unintentional purring noise he was making as the grains of sand massaged his calloused paws. Raising his head, he looked at Kayo with one large, blue eye. Luckily, she hadn't noticed the embarrassing spectacle. "No problem, but this place had better be worth it."
Kayo scratched the back of her head. "Well, uhm, there's the pens, which are okay I guess... but you don't have to stay here if you don't want to. I don't mind if you stay at the apartment."
One of Rolas's eye ridges raised at this. He started walking across the combat field again, toward a large archway. The iron doors of about fifteen feet were open. "You don't?" he said.
"Not unless Qurial starts giving me shit, no." They passed through the archway and entered a wide hallway that circled the coliseum. Kayo stopped, and Rolas turned around to face her, his tail brushing lightly against her side. Kayo blushed at this, but Rolas didn't seem to notice. Suddenly feeling exposed, Kayo crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Rolas reared on his hind legs, putting him near eye level with the human girl. "Hello? Kayo."
She realized she had been staring into space. "Sorry, just got distracted for a second."
What the fuck was that? she thought.
"Okay then..." He settled back down into a balanced position. "Where to first?"
"Pens, armory, or the tactical center. Take your pick."
He twirled designs into the tiles underfoot with a claw. "Tactical center sounds kind of vague, don't you think?"
"A library."
He smiled, teeth whiter than snow. "Armory it is then."
It was a large room, filled with sharpened metal and coated with dust. A bored looking clerk rapped his fingers on the base of a wooden sales window. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, in a particularly unhelpful tone.
Kayo motioned for Rolas to stay put before walking over to the clerk. After exchanging words with the man he disappeared into aisles. She walked back to the dragon.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Getting my stuff. Another reason we came here first, it's where I keep my gear."
Rolas tilted his head. "Gear?"
"Yeah. Some armor, a shield, sword, those types of things."
Snorting, he flicked the end of his tail toward the iron short sword strapped to her waist. "So what's that?"
"This?"
"Yeah."
"It's nothing. Market knockoff iron sword - and calling it a sword is generous. I don't even keep it sharpened."
Drawing breath, the dragon tried to knead his paws into the ground again. The tiled floor, though covered with sand, proved less satisfying. "You carry that with you everywhere?"
"Almost all of the girls do. Personal defense weapons. Glowing terms. They're just mediocre deterrence. Not expensive enough to be worth stealing, but mean enough to discourage your common criminal. Without something big and painful-looking strapped to your hip every wannabe rapist is on top of you constantly. If you have training, it doesn't really matter. But having to kick a couple faces in every night on the way home gets old fast."
The dragon looked up from the designs he had been etching into the tile with his fore claw. "And if you don't have training?"
Kayo's lips pursed, brow tightening. Razer-thin blades of light burned in her dark irises. "These are hard times," she said.
Standing in the dust, arms crossed, black hair framing her face, she suddenly appeared older to Rolas. He traced nonexistent lines of age from the corners of her eyes to her youthful cheekbones. They seemed to rise from below her skin, shadow-like warnings of what was to come. Just a girl, new to adulthood, but already hardened to the core. Someone who has seen too much in too little time.
"I'm sorry."
Pulled out of her thoughts, she uncrossed her arms. She looked down at Rolas. The wet sheen in her eyes was gone. "Why?"
He had gotten lost somewhere in her eyes. Small, steamy wisps of white hovered just outside her pupils' event horizons. Those flashes of color were the only things holding her eyes back from total blackness. They were black like the space between the stars. Black like the solitude every man feared was waiting for him at the end of a sword. Black like cursed obsidian mirrors in some witch's den.
Dumbstruck, he shook himself out of his trance and said, "I asked a stupid question. It's probably tough around here for women, and I shouldn't be digging up bad memories."
Kayo glanced back to the service window. The man had not returned. "Don't sweat it."
"Before the training, uh. You've," Rolas stuttered, practically choking on his own tongue, "never been... you know, have you?"
He spoke without thinking. After he finished, he nearly gouged out his own eyes with the sheer stupidity of what he had just asked. Terribly stupid. Incredulously stupid. Unsurpassably stupid. Totally, completely, deeply, mind-bogglingly -
Don't stir up memories, he thought. Way to fucking go.
Yet, after staring at her eyes, after hearing her smooth voice, after inhaling her scent - dry, but refreshing, like desert plants - he wanted to cross his claws and hope for the best. His tactless and insensitive question was rooted in concern, and all that had been going through his head at the time of the asking was, "Please not her."
"No."
His panicked prayers had been answered. The dragon relaxed.
Idly grinding the heel of her boot into the sand, she added, "But not all of us are so lucky."
Rolas couldn't think of anything to say. The sales clerk returned at a convenient time. Kayo walked over, slipped the man a small tip, and came back carrying a large bundle of linen. A rounded steel hilt poked out in the direction of the dragon.
"Come on," she said. "Right across the hallway."
She led him into large, dank room filled with pools of water and dropped the bundle of linen onto a wooden bench that extended out of the wall. Facing the dragon, hands on her hips, she waited. Rolas gave her a puzzled look.
"Mind turning around?" she said.
Noticing her intention, he turned and faced the entrance, sitting back on his haunches. "Oh, sorry. Forget how humans are about these things."
He heard rustling and clanking noises behind him. Kayo's voice sounded. "You can tell by the structure of this so-called bathing room that humans aren't that way about these things. But for all intents and purposes, I am."
"Just you?" he joked.
"Just me."
Rolas chuckled. "Can't say I blame you. With Crystal Hawks there isn't much to see. You humans have little bits and pieces sticking out everywhere."
"Yeah, well - " She exhaled, obviously trying to buckle something around her waste. " - at least draconic women don't have to deal with a chest. These little bits can get annoying as hell sometimes." He heard her mumble something under her breath.
The slang confused him. Not quite sure if she was joking, he asked, "What do you mean?"
"I fucking mean," she choked out, taking a second shot at whatever buckle she had been pulling on before, "that when they fit these they don't take certain proportions into account." She sighed with relief. "There we go. One day I'm going to kill whoever designs these things. 'Compact frame' my ass, they just want horny males in the crowd to see some pushed-up cleavage."
He shook his head, smiling, finally understanding what she was ranting about. "Are you almost done?"
A few clicking noises came from behind him. "Alright, all set. You can turn around."
The dragon pivoted slowly, shuffling around on all fours before turning his neck to face her. Surprised and not quite sure how to react, he soaked it all in.
Kayo was nervous. Not giggling schoolgirl nervous but not quite collected, either. This puzzled her. He was a dragon, a Crystal Hawk, and one she barely knew at that. If any male wasn't going to judge her in armor, it was him... But she was nervous. Some part of her was afraid that her image, her femininity, perhaps her identity as Kayo would be lost if he saw her in training gear. She'd be just another grunt. Just another human wearing clothes, covering up her little bits and pieces. Another human wearing armor just like the ones who had captured him and taken him away from everything he had ever known.
"Wow. I..." He paused, jaw hanging open the slightest bit. "I'm not sure what to say."
The trainer frowned. She slid her arm further through the shield grip so her hand could rest on her hip. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He tilted his head to the side. "I don't know you... uh... you look attractive."
Her mind crashed in on itself. Okay, she thought. I can go back to being just another human now.
"What?"
Rolas continued despite her. "Is that the right word, attractive?"
She felt her face flush and hoped the dragon wouldn't notice. "Yes, that's human terminology, but... I look... What?" It was all she could manage to say.
Doing the complete opposite of what she wished he would, the dragon padded over to her. He turned his head and a single large eye began to examine her in greater detail.
She wore a light, flexible-looking suit of armor that seemed to protect most of the important places and leave everything else out to dry. The metal was bright and reflective, clearly some sort of steel. Light pads were strapped to her shoulders, attached to multi-piece side guards that hugged her underarms. Hooked to the side guards were four curved metal plates. Two of them covered most of her belly, buckled together at the center, and two of them covered her lower back. Her breasts were squeezed into some sort of hard leather shirt which appeared to hold most of the upper armor together. As she had said, her cleavage had been pushed up and was quite visible from a bird's eye view.
Thigh plates, calf plates, and a half-loincloth made of dragon scales, covering her backside, completed the suit. A silken cloth fell down past her knees, held at the waste by some sort of belt buckle. The cloth was practically transparent, and Rolas could see she was wearing the same dark linen panties as before. A compact, circular metal shield was hooked to her forearm, although she had pushed it to her upper arm. Her free hand rested on the spherical hilt of a gladius, which she had secured to her belt.
Satisfied with his survey of her form, he sat back on his haunches and nodded quietly to himself, as if affirming his previous words. "Yeah. Looks uncomfortable, sure, but you look like you can move if you have to. The metal curves and everything, it's all very sleek. Like a female dragon... almost."
She busied herself with her armor, pretending to check certain straps and test all the pieces. Anything to avoid looking at him. "It's alright... The chest pieces and the shield are enchanted with something. Don't ask me, I have no idea what those guys in the Academy do to the steel. Still feels too much like a bathing suit, though." Suddenly embarrassed over her embarrassment, she looked down to the dragon. "And thanks, by the way." The strength behind her voice had started to come back.
The dragon flashed another toothy grin. "Don't get used to it. I'm gonna start charging for compliments soon."
She smiled and started wrapping her clothes into the linen blanket. "Want to head to the tactical center next?"
"We passed by a large hallway on the way here, where does that lead?
"Not the answer to my question but... that leads to the animal holding pens. Where they keep lions and stuff. You don't want to go there."
"Got it."
"You like the place so far?"
"It's a bit dusty, but yeah."
"Everything's dusty. Faligar, 'the city of dust'."
"That really what it means?"
"Yes."
"Bit of a shitty name, don't you think?"
"It's accurate."
"True."
"So, tactical center it is?"
"How about the feeding grounds?"
"You know, we're eventually going to have to visit the library."
"Exactly, so we might as well do it on a full stomach."