Slave Trade - Covut

Story by comidacomida on SoFurry

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Slave Trade

Covut

copyright 2013 comidacomida

For the first time in a long time, Sidney was able to remember having good dreams. He was flying free, soaring through the sky at some point with the wind on his face and the sun on his back. He was also laying in a field of flowers, collar-free and splayed out, just enjoying the warm, summer day. Then, later still, he was curled up by a cozy fire, laying across Lord Hector's feet as the stag read quietly in an arm chair. The joy of the dreams, however, did not transition into the waking world.

If the thick reminder of a collar around his neck had been the most unpleasant thing Sidney had to wake up to he would have been content but, unfortunately, there was worse. His head felt like a blacksmith's anvil... and said blacksmith was still hard at work; every movement was a pounding pain inside the fox's skull. On top of that, the moment Sidney rolled to the side he felt a deep ache inside his body, starting just under his tail, and rising up far too high into his abdomen... and he was thirsty... INCREDIBLY thirsty.

"Here." Lord Hector's voice, despite bringing more pain to Sidney's aching head was, nonetheless, a warm sliver of light in the fox's foggy, pained existence. The slave master opened his eyes and immediately regretted the further pain brought on by the bright light streaming through the half-curtained windows but, closer in the foreground of his vision, was a small, crystalline glass filled with-- Sidney sniffed at the contents-- water.

He accepted the tumbler gratefully and with reverence, quickly speaking out a "Thank you, Master" before tilting the glass up and greedily drinking. He coughed once and sputtered, but finished it all before halting. Letting out another hearty cough, the fox was surprised when a second full glass was offered even as his master took away the empty one.

"Your head hurts, Sidney?" the stag inquired amiably.

"I will be fine, Master." the fox acknowledged, immediately easing his head back and downing the second cup of cool, soothing water.

"I did not ask if you would be fine." Lord Hector's voice was still calm, but it held the authoritative tone that immediately reminded the fox that the stag expected answers.

"Yes, Master." Sidney clarified his earlier statement, "I felt like it was ME in the arena yesterday." and he let his master take away the second glass.

"I am glad it was not." the stag announced with a warm smile, ruffling the fox's head fur, "Because then I would be without my favorite slave master." and, with that, Lord Hector turned back to set the crystal tumblers on the dresser even as Sidney rode the euphoric wave of the compliment-- he was Lord Hector's FAVORITE.

The fox managed to restrain a kit-like squee and instead released his enthusiasm with a "Yes, Master.... thank you, Master." and he winced only a little at the sound of his own voice. Rubbing the side of his head, Sidney stood up, wincing again as his insides churned about and his tail ached horribly.

"Take some time to clean yourself up and make yourself presentable." the stag announced, motioning to a side door that opened into what Sidney realized was a wash room. Letting his surprise at having access to such opulence, the fox obediently did as he was told, and began to address his slovenly appearance; gazing into the mirror, Sidney was amazed at the crystal clear reflection looking back at him-- not just because he rarely used a mirror, but, moreover, because, even at his worst he had never presented himself as horribly as he looked at that moment. "We are not going to be late today." Lord Hector spoke from the other room.

"Of course, Master." the fox noted obediently, and began to use some of the blissfully warm water steaming away in the basin to smooth out his fur. Sidney did not miss the fact that the herb-infused liquid held the strong scent of Lord Hector, and that made him eager all the more to use as much of it as he could without soaking himself. The slave master picked up a fresh brush that awaited him, pausing only long enough to inhale deeply of the errant strands of silver that clearly identified the brush as having already been used by Lord Hector.

Sidney also found twenty different cloths folded neatly beside the wash basin. Having spent years as a personal slave, the fox was familiar with the different strips of linens and their specific uses. He had been surprised enough to think that Lord Hector had refolded his wash cloths after using them, but even more surprised when he realized that the stag's were already discarded into the laundry bin; Lord Hector had set out a fresh set just for his favorite slave master-- Sidney fidgeted in abject glee.

The fox began the morning ritual for each and every cloth, putting them to use in the ways they were meant. Sidney had run through the use of the cloths numerous times during his service to Lord Bulhue, but this was the first time he'd ever used them on himself and, he had to admit, the feeling was bliss. After using one brown cloth to clean each ear, and the gray cloth for the fur around his muzzle, the slave master was truly starting to enjoy the experience, and was counting his fortune to have improved.

The warm water mixed with the different textures of the numerous strips of linen helped slowly ease the tension out of his body and, once he had made ample use of the two yellow cloths designed for under one's tail, Sidney's pain had finally started to recede. He couldn't help but make a face at the streaks of red that came away with the first cloth, but the fainter, less distinct ones on the second strip were a good sign that there wasn't anything serious-- he'd been subjected to much worse in his time.

By the time Sidney had used each and every one of the colorful strips of cloth he felt much improved. Though a faint, repetitive twinge remained inside his head the pain had mostly abated, and having had the opportunity to clean himself after being subjected to Baron, the fox could manage a smile without any real trouble. He emerged from the bathing chamber and stopped in the doorway that led to Lord Hector's bedroom.

The stag was facing his direction and nearly dressed, lacing up the last few chords of his fine leather doublet. Lord Hector paused in his routine as Sidney emerged and the fox felt incredibly self-conscious. A fresh smile came to his master's muzzle, "Lord Bulhue made a great mistake in failing to see your potential."

Sidney felt his ears redden so much they hurt, "Thank you, Master." his tail tucked faintly in embarrassment at the compliment, and then even more when he realized that Lord Hector was almost fully dressed while he was still entirely naked. The fox's heart skipped a beat a moment as he wondered to himself at the stag's words; did his master find him... appealing?

"I have a fresh set of clothes for you on the dresser, Sidney." Lord Hector announced, turning his back to the fox as he finished lacing up his shirt, "I trust you're familiar with how to don a doublet?" the stag inquired, then quickly followed up with, "I have a sleeveless one for you so you don't feel so restricted."

Sidney went immediately to the dresser, reaching out with shaking paws to take hold of the clothing indicated by his master. The shirt in question was not unlike a vest, but it was a much hardier fabric and came around the front, lacing completely closed. The fox had no doubt that the doublet itself was worth more than all of the clothes he had ever been presented with put together. "I will take very good care of it, Master..." and then he paused as he regarded the clothing, "Unless you would like Lord Levid to have reason to burn it..."

"No, Sidney." Lord Hector stated, going to his traveling chest and rooting around, "That is not Lord Levid's and it is not for one-time wear... it is for you."

"For me..." the fox stated, confused at the differentiation, "...to wear?"

Lord Hector glanced back at him, "To HAVE, Sidney." he stated, before going back to searching through the chest, "...to keep. It is yours to own."

Sidney had no response to the announcement. Looking at the doublet with reverence, the fox barely managed to work the nerve to put it on. The fabric felt fine in his paws, far nicer than any of the coarse cloth he was used to. It was a deep green and accented with lighter green stitching; they were Lord Hector's colors, and they matched the collar he wore identifying him as his master's property.

Sliding one arm through one arm hole followed by the second through the next, the slave master shrugged his shoulders, letting the fabric settle onto him as if it were made just for him. Glancing down at a small stitched embroidered symbol at the leading edge where the two sides were laced together identifying the doublet to be Gauis' work. He smoothed out the fabric and laced it up with the practiced skill of someone used to dressing others.

"I have a pair of trousers for you to match the doublet." Lord Hector was standing with his hands on his hips, his sword belt complimenting his attire most regally, "Lord Levid doesn't approve of slaves wearing them, so we'll save that for another time."

Sidney acknowledged the stag with a quick "Yes, Master." and expediently covered his nakedness with a long, over-under loin cloth made of a similar fabric as his new shirt. Like the one he had been given the prior night, the waist wrapping was split in the back to allow his tail ample space, but, unlike the prior night, he was given a black leather belt with a simple clasp to secure the loin cloth in place.

"You are going to make a VERY good impression, Sidney." Lord Hector smirked with a hint of mischeif evident from the gleam in his eye.

"Lord Levid will be very unhappy." the fox ventured.

The stag's smile widened, "Yes... yes he will."

* * * * *

Sidney followed his master out onto the same balcony they had occupied the day before. Though he wished silently that he would have had a chance to meet with Maern, the fox realized that is own preferences were not up for discussion. Padding silently behind Lord Hector, the demur slave master took a seat when indicated by the stag, selecting a spot on the bench that was previously identified as his place. Lord Hector settled himself into the same high-backed chair that remained from the prior night.

The moment the stag sat down Lord Levid's unmistakable tone called from behind the purple curtain, "Ah... so good of you to join us this morning, Hector... and on time as well!"

"Indeed, your majesty." Lord Hector confirmed, nodding his head slightly with the words, "Such wonders reliable messengers can accomplish." Sidney did not miss the well-veiled accusation in the tone; everyone knew the prior night's 'mistake' was not an accident, yet the fox was amazed at how seamlessly both Lords could maintain the charade.

"Doubtlessly." Lord Levid acknowledged with a hint of satisfaction, "And I trust you have selected a fighter today that will give us a little more entertainment than the last?"

"Of course, your majesty." the stag nodded again, waving away the young doe that presented him with a silver platter of cold meats and cheeses, "My Slave Master assures me that my chosen fighter for today will provide quite a show." "Indeed." Lord Levid commented in an almost bored tone. The doe stopped at the edge of the curtain and slowly slid the tray through the thick cloth, presenting him with his choice of vittles. As the drapes were eased aside Sidney was able to catch the faintest glimpse of the man his master called a 'king'.

At first, the fox thought that Lord Levid was a panda due to his blunt snout but, he realized quickly, the man did not have the race's high-perched, round ears... nor was there any apparent black on him-- his face, in fact, appeared almost devoid of fur, and pink in color. He had barely a second to catch sight of Lord Levid before the doe removed the tray and the curtains fell back in place. Sidney's curiosity, despite his better judgment, grew. Thankfully for him, he did not have a chance to dwell on it.

"Ah..." the king stated, "It appears the porter has finally gotten around to opening the gates." True to Lord Levid's observation, the otherwise empty benches of the arena's spectator areas began to fill rapidly. Sidney watched the place grew to capacity, taking careful note that all of the balconies had filled long before anyone moved into the general seating. Despite the slave master's limited knowledge of heraldry, it was readily apparent by the differences in wardrobe and attendants that the balconies were reserved for Lords and Ladies.

"Tell me, Lord Levid..." Lord Hector leaned a little closer to the curtains, "What do you have planned for the entertainment today?"

The chuckle from the king walked the line between bemused and condescending, "Ah yes... I forget-- you are not a regular at these events, are you, my dear Hector?"

"Of course, your Majesty... as you may recall, until this season I haven't had reason to watch the fights."

"You don't have to have gladiators in the pits to admire the sport, my boy." Lord Levid noted haughtily, "As far as your question, however, including myself, there are sixteen contributing nobles for this year's tournament." at which point the king paused, "So good of you to help round out our numbers at sixteen, my dear man."

Lord Hector's reply was succinct, his emotions fully reserved within his terse words, "I could hardly pass up the opportunity to do my part for the kingdom... my king."

"Indeed." the single word was essentially a dismissal of what the stag had to say, and Lord Levid continued, "I expect each Lord or Lady to contribute four gladiators to the upcoming tournament... seeing as you've unexpectedly lost one of yours before the tourney has even begun I DO hope that you have enough to field a full stable."

"And the tournament starts today?" Lord Hector inquired, letting the verbal jab slide.

"Qualifying matches." Lord Levid responded in a bored tone, "It provides an opportunity for everyone to see what they should expect, and it helps weed out the halfhearted picks from each team... such as that bear of yours from yesterday."

"Of course, your highness... how..." the stag grit his teeth at the thinly veiled insult, "...ingenious."

"Indeed it is..." Lord Levid acknowledged plainly, "Now quiet yourself, Hector... I was told to expect big things from this first match."

Sidney was not excited to see two slaves beat one another bloody, but he also realized that he would not be given a second chance to redeem himself if he showed the same weakness he had suffered through the prior night. Instead, the fox steeled himself, and watched as two gladiators stepped into the arena.

The first combatant was a light-furred ocelot presented by a Lord by the name of Talvin, a regal-looking gray wolf seated almost directly across the arena from them at a balcony with red and gold colors; the other gladiator was a large, black lion belonging to the stables of Lady Fody, the sharp-tongued ferret Sidney had seen at the dinner affair the prior night. The wolf stood and waved in a quiet, reserved manner to the arena's audience as his gladiator was identified while Lady Fody blew kisses in an overtly theatrical manner.

The fight did not begin immediately, rather, the announcer started off by identifying both of the gladiators' respective owners, and then proceeded to discuss prior victories each had to their name. Sidney noticed only that the speaker continued for some time, choosing instead to listen as his master spoke quietly to him, "Lady Fody is currently well received by Lord Levid, and is considered an up-and-coming courtier; you are to be respectful of her at all times, as any slight against her will cause no small amount of trouble for me."

"Yes, Master." the fox nodded.

"Lord Talvin is a good man." the stag announced, "Tenvierian, though he's lived here in Pross for many years." Lord Hector stroked his muzzle in thought, "Quite likely one of the least likely Gladiator owner I have met." He glanced toward Sidney as the fox's ears raised, "Other than myself." the stag confirmed his unspoken question.

"Yes, Master." Sidney acknowledged, paying total attention to Lord Hector in an attempt to tune out the opening sound of the battle gong as the fight was finally underway.

The fox's master continued to speak quietly and calmly, providing something for Sidney to focus on rather than the fight. Despite Lord Hector's help, however, the occasional grunt following an impact or a roar of pain still caused a shiver to run up the slave master's spine, and he knew it was only a matter of time until one or the other prevailed.

"I have heard that most Lords and Ladies post wagers on the results of each round of tournaments." the stag noted with an expression of distaste, "but apparently it is not unheard of for gambling even during the preliminaries." he motioned across the way toward some of the lower bleachers where a group of men were waving tickets at another man walking the aisles. Lord Hector was about to continue his comment, but suddenly the cheering chaos of the arena went silent, all eyes on the fighters.

Sidney glanced to the ring where the ocelot stood with one foot the black lion's chest. Both were breathing heavily and covered with numerous cuts; the ocelot had a nasty-looking gash in one thigh while the lion's entire left shoulder was cut open-- Sidney recalled that the lion had been holding a short spear in his left paw. The lion gazed skyward, while the ocelot's eyes were solely focused on Lord Talvid.

Lord Hector's voice came out as a hushed whisper, "The Lord or Lady of the winning gladiator may choose to spare the loser, or else have the winner put them to death." The stag could have compared the moment to the prior night, and Sidney was thankful that his Master chose not to; they both watched as the wolf across from them stood up from his seat and raised his arm. Lord Talvid slowly rose all the fingers on his paw, showing his palm.

"Life." Lord Hector translated, and Sidney let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Lord Talvid took his seat, and the stag added quietly, "Just a thumb indicates that the loser is to be killed." It was the first of many fights that Sidney was expected to sit through, and he already felt himself fidgeting with revulsion. How many times, he wondered, would one of the Lords or Ladies show their thumb?

As it turned out, while the day passed, a total of nine fights were concluded, with each Lord or Lady pitting one of their gladiators up against one other... all except for Lord Levid, who had two of his gladiators fight-- one against a Gladiator owned by Lord Bulhue, and another owned by a spindly-looking lemur named Lord Halvanashev, a rather eccentric-acting man who Lord Hector identified as a visiting Meisenylian. Lord Levid's gladiators won both matches and, both times, Lord Levid sentenced the losing gladiator to death; the king's slaves did not hesitate to deliver the killing blows.

The day began to wind to a close, but Lord Hector had still not been called to furnish a fighter. The arena's announcer told the audience that the next fight would feature another of Lord Levid's chosen gladiators for the season, and the king was even offering up a second gladiator so that the two might battle one another. The crowd, at that point dissolved into a fit of euphoric cheering as the men walking around with the tally sheets began to take in gambling bids hand over fist.

The two gladiators moved into the arena. The first was a brown bear decked out so heavily in armor that he looked like a cauldron with arms and legs, and the second, dramatically different from the first, was a hyena with only leather armor carrying a nasty-looking battleaxe. Sidney didn't understand at first why the bear didn't appear to have any weapons, until the announcer explained that it was on purpose: it was a battle of arms versus armor.

The two gladiators sized one another up and the fox was astounded at the fury they each exhibited. Sidney watched as they took their positions, and anyone else on the floor of the arena (including the dead body of the loser of the prior match) quickly vacated. The announcer declared the match begun and, as the words were affirmed by the sounding of the gong, Lord Hector quickly pulled Sidney's attention away from the match by speaking with him, "I doubt that Lord Levid will give either of his slaves any leeway... He will expect them each to fight to the death and show no quarter toward their fellow gladiator. Even though they are from the same stable he is making them foes."

The open-ended announcement practically asked for a question, so Sidney took the opportunity, "Is that normal, Master?"

"No, Sidney..." the stag shook his head, "that is not."

A double grunt from the arena snapped the fox's attention back to the fight; the bear had taken a strike from the long-handled axe to his thigh and the weapon had struck through his armor and buried itself into his flesh. The hyena yanked and yanked, almost managing to get the bear off balance, but the larger gladiator put an end to it with a powerful backhand to the axe wielder's unarmored face; the sound of metal armor striking exposed flesh caused a twinge of pain in Sidney's sore backside as he tensed up.

Limping, the bear moved to where the dazed hyena was trying to recover and stand up. Tearing his breast plate off, the bear brought it up high, and drove it down onto the prone gladiator's head, slamming it with enough force to send a spray of blood in all directions. He lifted the metal plate up again and slammed it home once more, repeating the action four times before straightening up, holding the loose piece of armor in a slack paw as he turned to regard Lord Levid. Sidney didn't miss the fact that blood dripped freely from the breast plate.

"Apparently," Lord Levid spoke calmly from behind the curtain, "armor wins." and Sidney watched, aghast as the bear turned back to the hyena, who had his hand feebly raised to protect himself. The bear batted the arm away and hammered away at the fallen gladiator with the armor piece; there was no doubt in Sidney's mind at that moment that Lord Levid had sentenced his own gladiator to death. The repeated blows continued for far too long before the announcer declared the sentence carried out.

"Now, my dear Lord Hector..." the amount of levity in the king's voice sickened Sidney almost as much as the horrible spectacle he had just witnessed, "I believe you have the last slot open in today's pairings." "So it would seem, your highness." the stag confirmed neutrally, "Whose gladiator will my slave be paired off against?" he inquired blandly. Despite the indifference in his master's tone, the fox did not miss the way Lord Hector's clenched fist shook in agitation.

"Seeing as all of my guests have already presented a Gladiator tonight, I suppose I will have to volunteer one out of my own stables." the announcement sounded rehearsed, and that assessment was only reinforced when the arena's event caller called the audience's attention back to the arena's floor, which had been freshly raked after the removal of the hyena's corpse.

Sidney's rapidly-beating heart jumped up into his throat as he saw Maern slowly stroll his way out into view. The stallion's ears were up and an expression of casual curiosity bordering on disinterest was clear on his face. Maern wore his harness well, and the fox had to admit that it suited him. The momentary errant carnal thought fell immediately to the floor with the announcer's next breath, "Last year's Champion, Veteran Gladiator bison of King Levid of Pross, Baron!"

"Your Majesty...?" Although Lord Hector did well at maintaining a neutral tone in his voice, Sidney didn't miss the very faint hint of fear that managed to peek through, "Has Baron not already been presented in an introductory match last night?" the stag fidgeted, "I am certain there is no need to--"

"It was hardly a good exhibition, my dear boy." came a bored response came from beyond the curtains, "Let us hope this new slave of yours does better, or I may have to have ask for a third gladiator from you to follow this... horse." The blood in Sidney's veins turned icy as he looked at the unsuspecting stallion standing nonchalantly in the arena, eying the bison that emerged from the other entryway. Even as Maern calmly maintained his position, Baron stalked forward, every breath a growl, chest and shoulders heaving as his enormous fingers clenched and unclenched as if in practice as they awaited a throat to choke. The fox somehow managed to suppress a whimper, breathing out a "no..." so quietly it was almost beyond hearing.

"Be calm." Lord Hector responded to him. There was empathy and comfort in the words, but it was spoken with the directness of an order, and Sidney complied. Even as the two combatants in the ring went to select their armors, the fox took a deep breath and sat up straight, smoothing out the cloth of the fine doublet his master had presented to him. By the time Maern and Baron had moved on to choosing their weapons, Sidney's composure matched his master's and he let no one see the abject horror he was feeling inside.

"Lord Levid!" the announcer called, and, suddenly, the entire arena fell silent; it was readily apparent that the hail was not a normal part of the ceremony, "Lord Hector's slave has not chosen a weapon." Pausing at the announcement, Sidney was surprised his heart did not explode.

The king's voice was raised to nearly a shout for the benefit of the audience, "Does your slave not understand how the arena works, Hector?" the tone was blatant humor but also held a hint of agitation.

Lord Hector stood, "He understands combat and fighting, your highness." the stag responded, watching the two slaves in the arena stare at one another; Maern remained almost completely passive while it looked like it took all the self restraint Baron had to avoid charging him right then and there.

"So be it." Lord Levid practically growled the three words, just loud enough for those of his balcony to hear it. The king raised his voice again, and it was full of mirth and celebration, "It appears that Lord Hector is having his slave fight feral." and the announcement was met with an almost deafening roar of approval from the audience. The weapons were taken away, leaving Maern facing Baron bare handed; Sidney couldn't help but feel that he was far outmatched by Baron's gigantic, two-handed axe.

Lord Hector slowly sat down, putting his face in his hands as he murmured, "Hell."

"BEGIN!" shouted the announcer, and he wasted no time with getting out of the arena. The loud metal gong Sidney had come to hate sounded clearly, identifying to all that the fight had officially started.

Baron, as before, sprinted right at his opponent. Maern, on the other hand, remained exactly where he was, as if oblivious to the hundreds of pounds of muscled death bearing down on him. Without his opponent coming to meet him, it took the champion longer to cross the distance but, when he was only a few strides away, the bison lowered his head, bringing his horns to bear. It was at that moment that Maern acted.

The stallion pushed himself off the ground and extended one leg, planting his hoof in the center of Baron's forehead, and kicked down with all his might, sending the charging gladiator face-first into the ground. The bison's momentum caused him to plow into the loose sand, sending a huge wave of it up in front of him as he slid to a halt. Every last person in the audience was dead silent, allowing Sidney to clearly hear Baron issue a growl that promised a painful death as he extracted his head from the several-foot-long trench dug into the arena floor. Maern, who was already a dozen feet off to the side, turned to face him.

Baron picked up his two handed axe from where it had fallen, and rushed Maern again, this time leading with the blade. The stallion quickly fell back, leaping away from the powerful swing as the weapon cleaved through the air. Baron stepped forward and swung again, taking the weapon at the end of its arc and forcing it across his line of attack again in a back-hand swing. Once more, Maern fell away from the strike.

"Is this some kind of joke, Hector?" questioned Lord Levid, "I admire acrobatics from jesters... not in the arena." "The audience does not seem to mind, your highness." the stag pointed out and, Sidney realized, Lord Hector was quite right; every eye in the arena was riveted.

"This is not a fight... this is a dance." the king attested, "I do not want a dancer, Hector... I expect a warrior." It was readily obvious that Lord Levid would have continued, but, at that moment, the sound of flesh-striking flesh caused him to fall silent. Sidney, still watching the fight, gripped the edge of the wooden bannister of the balcony when Baron's shin connected solidly to Maern's abdomen.

"There." Lord Levid announced with finality, "at least this farce can come to an--" but he was unable to finish his sentence as Maern stood back up, blocking Baron's overhanded axe chop by grabbing the weapon's metal shaft, "Hector..." Lord Levid sighed, "I am displeased."

"Did you not desire a worthy exhibition, your majesty?" the stag inquired.

"Do not mock me, boy." the king stated with a faint growl, "Either have your horse fight or have him stand still... this is not worthy of being called a match."

"At once, your majesty." Lord Hector bowed his head slightly toward the curtain, then turned to Sidney, "Sidney..." the stag's voice held a strange note of sudden confidence, "Please order Maern to fight."

"COVUT!" the word was out of Sidney's muzzle before he even had a chance to think. Maern turned to gaze up at the fox and, in a split second, Baron chose that very moment to attack. The fox watched in horror as the lethal axe arced through the air right at stallion's neck.

"IYA!" the confirmation came out like a battle cry as the horse dropped to the ground, launching one arm out to its full extension and driving his fist into the spinning bison's solar plexus even as his free hand gripped the axe right beneath its blade. Maern spun around in the opposite direction of the surprised champion, twisting the axe until Baron's grip on it loosened enough that it could be pulled away.

The stallion slammed the bison with the butt of the weapon right in the small of his back, forcing the already off-balance gladiator onto the ground. Baron scrambled quickly back up, pushing himself off the floor with his hands. Maern waited patiently for the bison to stand, only to receive a handful of sand thrown at him. The two large warriors collapsed in a heap on the ground, and the dust rose up quickly, all but obstructing Sidney's review of the melee.

The two rolled one way, and then the other, Baron on top at first, and delivering a nasty headbutt to Maern but, after several seconds, the stallion got the upper hand, and delivered a double headbutt of his own, followed by a powerful hook to the side of Baron's head. The bison roared out in fury and, sticking his hoof against Maern's thigh, managed to flip the stallion off of him, and spun around to a standing position... but he wasn't expecting his opponent to already be standing as well; Maern had chosen to lean away from the kick and used the momentum to roll back to combat-ready. From there, a final hoof-to-the-head knocked the bison to the ground.

Maern calmly picked up the axe and, before Baron could recover, fell onto the champion, knees leading the way. He grabbed the shaft of the axe in both hands and pressed the bar up under Baron's muzzle, forcing it against his throat.

"ENOUGH!" roared Lord Levid, and all eyes went immediately to the balcony where the king stood atop the bannister, feet latched onto the wooden railing, both arms upraised. The monkey's fur was on end, and his blunted muzzle was parted in a snarl, revealing pointed teeth. His tail lashed back and forth angrily as he held up a hand, "This fight is over!"

"Lord Levid concedes defeat!" the crow announcer shouted amidst the confused murmurs of the crowd. He bird then addressed the balcony, "What will become of the loser?"

"Live, you idiot!" the primate growled, hopping back down off the bannister and taking cover behind his curtain once more, though his upraised hand remained visible as he repeated the gesture, "Live... unless I decide to change my mind later."

"Lord Hector?" the announcer inquired, "Your Gladiator was the victorious one... what is your decision?" The stag, managing to maintain a neutral expression, turned to regard Sidney. "This was your victory, Sidney..." and he offered a smile, "so this is your decision."

The fox was already prepared with his answer.

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