No More Chances

“I don’t want it to end this way.”

Even though my thinking was slow, and my head throbbed in pain with every beat of my heart, I would have recognized Firas’ voice anywhere.

I tried to turn in his direction, but the pain worsened. So, I just shifted my eyes and saw his narrow silhouette in the doorway of my cell. A blade of sunlight seeped in from a slit of a window behind him, the cell’s only source of fresh air. It wasn’t enough to relieve us from the stench of excrement, sweat and rot.

I heard the big man in the corner shift. His heavy leg chain scraped against the stone floor. I sensed he was alert, his massive power tense. I wondered how much he knew about Firas.

“Me and you.” Firas didn’t need to say much more than that. He knew I knew it all, what we’d lived together.

“Me and you.” He said that a lot. It brought memories.

I remembered the day we met. I was soaking in the hot spring when I heard the scream. I sat up, pulling my knees up, ready to jump out. I wasn’t sure what was happening but was confident I could count on my speed if needed. I was only thirteen, but an early growth spurt had made me as much as a foot taller than some of the other boys. And since I’d started lifting weights quite young, I was bulkier as well. I had to do that. I didn’t have anything else going for me. My face was as plain as a door, with a large nose, short chin and small, brown eyes. As for brains, forget it. The others could come up with creative solutions to the teacher’s challenges, but I wasn’t good at it. Instead, I worked doggedly at the things I could control: My physique and my studies. I might not be handsome, but I could become strong. I might not be a genius, but I could learn what was in those books.

I heard another scream, closer now. I stood, dripping, the icy air chilling my steaming skin. I wrapped my robe around me just as a boy emerged on the hill, dark against the sky. The new kid, Firas. was running, and I saw why when the rest of the boys appeared at the crest, closing in. One of the pursuers got near enough to dive, grabbing Firas’ ankle, sending him tumbling down the hill. They all descended near me, the group of four pursuers diving on Firas and pummeling him as he wailed in terror like a panicked rabbit.

Acting on instinct, I was with him quickly, easily pulling the other boys off him, knocking them around so they flopped like catfish, trying to regain their feet. I chose the biggest one and pulled him up by the robe, pushing him back against a tree. I recognized him as Lucas, the strong captain of the Bear Team.

“Why are you attacking him, four against one, like a pack of jackals?”

“He never shuts up, and he ate most of our dinner himself, the lazy thief. We’re going to punch him in the stomach until he throws it up so he can’t enjoy it.”

“That would be a waste of food. We don’t waste food.”

“Let go of me!”

“Will you leave him alone?”

“No!”

I shook him hard enough to knock his head a few times.

“Alright.”

I let him go. He rejoined the others, who had regained their feet and were snarling among themselves, angry and embarrassed at being bested and chastised.

“If he does it again we will open his belly with our daggers and feed his guts to the dogs,” Lucas said, attempting to save his dignity.

After they slunk off, Firas came to me, shaking my hand and smiling. He was much shorter than I was, a scrawny, pointy-faced little thing with a wily glimmer in his ice-blue eyes. In his short time with our training program, he had thus far shown skill only in being a fast talker.

“Thanks,” he said. “You helped me out. But I was in the process of outsmarting them, you know.”

“Oh, really?” I had to smile a little.

He grinned. “Of course! I was going to run them through the waterfall. Soak them good. I wouldn’t care if they drowned, to be honest. I hoped they would.”

“Great plan.”

“It is a great plan,” he insisted. “I make great plans. That’s what I do. Me and you, we would be great together. I can plan for glory, and you can help me build it.”

After that, Firas seemed to always be around. He constantly developed goofy plans, some of which I helped him with, and few of which came out as intended. But sometimes they did, like the time he learned a card trick and bamboozled most of the other team out of their cash. I stayed nearby to head off their angry protests.

We went through the middles together. Firas had somehow turned us into a pair. We hung out, went places together, took some of the same classes just to have a familiar face nearby. He made sure, whenever there was an affair like a big ball game or a party, that we’d go together. It wasn’t unusual for him to start fights at these events, and for me to finish them.

“Me and you,” he always said. He didn’t need to say anything else.

 I passed my midterms with decent grades, thanks to hours of study. Firas claimed that he aced his tests, but he was abruptly asked to leave our training before we moved on to uppers. He said it was because the lead instructor owed his father a debt he would never pay, and so kicked Firas out of school to put distance between himself and Firas’ family. But by then I’d come to realize that some of what Firas spewed was not true, except to him alone.

I didn’t see him for several years. We met again in Red Valley a few years later. I had just secured a position as a protector for the valley leader, and Firas was selling things. I was never sure what. All I knew is that some people were mad at him for his goods being of poor quality, and he needed a change, and quickly. He pleaded for my help. Of course, I couldn’t turn him down. I helped him get a job in the mill, record keeping.

But after about six months, Firas came to me, upset.

“It’s time to go. Stuff’s going missing,” he said. “They’re going to blame me and you.”

“What? Why?”

“Someone told them we are involved.”

I could tell it wasn’t the whole story, but I didn’t have time to find out anymore. We heard a commotion in the yard, and suddenly the door banged open. I was shocked and upset because my job was to protect this part of the company, and here, men had just burst in. But then I realized they were my coworkers, so I relaxed a little.

“What’s going on?” I barely had time to get the words out before they were on me. They knew me, so they put two men on each arm to get them cuffed.

“You’re under arrest for stealing from the company,” Jeras, the lead guard, said.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t steal anything.”

“We found the goods in your room, Milo. Don’t say anything or it will make it worse.”

I was baffled. It was impossible. Then I noticed that Firas was standing back, watching with big eyes as they dragged me away. Why didn’t they arrest him, too?

I remembered there was only one other person with a key to my room: Firas. I realized then what he was, and my memories swirled with the many times in our past when I had felt somehow duped by him, times when I got in trouble for him. He was just so good at explaining things. He was so good at making it seem like it was us against the world.

“Me and you,” he’d say. “Me and you.”

I realized now that he had used me so many times. And he was using me again, blaming me for his crime. This time, I would never forgive him. I silently declared him my enemy. I swore to myself that I would seek vengeance. I would take him down.

If I lived.

I had never been in a prison. I didn’t know they were so dark. I didn’t know they were chambers of disease and death. But it didn’t matter what I knew or didn’t. All I could do was focus on survival.

Because I was thought to have stolen from our company, I was beaten by the guards regularly. Encouraged by the guards, the other prisoners tried to beat me, too. They couldn’t outfight me though, and I broke one back and crack open one skull before the guards shackled me. Then the prisoners could attack me freely if they dared to get close. I caught one with my chain, popping his foot off his leg as if it were a bottle cap. That taught them to stay back, and they mostly left me alone. I was battered and cut, my nose broken and one eye swollen shut. The chains on my arms and legs had stopped hurting by now as my limps had grown numb.

What little food they gave us was so vile that my stomach was sick and my bowels out of control. I stopped eating and only drank what little I needed to survive. I lived, barely, in filth.

During the first ten days, prisoners came and went. A screaming man came in and was thrown into a cell. He screamed all night until he finally died, bringing us blessed silence. The big man was brought in and chained up in the corner. He was even bigger than I, and he sat and glared out at the rest of us in a chilling way that kept others at bay. Two men were released during that time, as well, and as they ran out happily, a bit of their joy lingered as hope for the rest of us.

I lost track of time.

A gash on my arm infected and I became feverish. So, I wasn’t sure, when Firas appeared, silhouetted in the doorway, if it was really him or if I was hallucinating.

“Me and you,” he said. “We can still have a chance. I want us to forgive the past, to go forward again as friends.”

I couldn’t speak but just looked away, trying to shake my head.

“I know you’ll never just accept my friendship again, so I have an idea you’ll like. We’ll have a contest. I know you’re weak right now. I’m going to help get you well. Then, we’ll fight. If you win, you can go free. If I win, you’ll stay and give me protection. I find myself in need of a bodyguard. But more importantly, you will be my companion again. We will talk and play music and go to the games together. It will be like old times. Me and you.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t want any part of his disingenuous friendship.

“Or, you can decline my offer and just stay here, with that infection slowly eating your body.”

“Even like this, I will beat you.”

“That’s the spirit. But you won’t have to fight like this. I’ll get you medicine, get you cleaned up, make sure you feel well enough for a fight.”

I couldn’t bear his being near me. But I did like the idea of killing him in a fight. If he got close enough, I would kill him right now, infection or not. I nodded my agreement.

“Excellent! I will see you at the contest.”

I was led out by two men who moved cautiously around me as if I were some unpredictable animal. They knew my reputation, apparently. They brought me to a hospital wing where my nose was set, my cuts stitched, and I was given powerful antibiotics which cleared the infection in just a few days.

I slept a lot, but when I was awake, I imagined the fight I would have with Firas. He must have learned some new skills to think that challenging me was a good idea since most of our lives he had needed my protection. What tricks did he have planned? Even though I was weak from my injuries, my stomach illness and the lack of food and water, I mentally practiced. I didn’t know what weapons we would be using, so I planned for each. If we had spears, I would surprise him by tripping him immediately and sending him to the ground and then to his death. With swords, I would simply wait him out. He would approach, and I would stab him in the soft spot above the clavicle. I had done that many times. If he chose no weapons, so much the better. I would easily overpower him. He must have been working on his speed and technique to think he had a chance, so I would need to be alert.

After a few days, I was moved to a comfortable suite. I was fed well and allowed to bathe. I was given fighting robes, but no weapons. I slept well that night, dreaming of victory over Firas.

I was already awake the next morning when the guards came to escort me to the competition grounds. It was a flat, sandy area surrounded by walls too high to climb, in case someone lost his nerve and tried to escape. A shaded section of seats allowed spectators, although it was nothing like some of the huge arenas I had seen in larger cities. Twenty or so of my coworkers lounged in the seats, sipping cold drinks and chatting, creating a desultory murmur in the air like the buzz of insects. When the gate opened and I stepped inside, they let out a cheer of excitement.

The gate on the opposite side opened. Firas stepped in. To my surprise, he was not wearing fighting robes. He was dressed as if for a party.

“Milo,” he said, loudly enough for the spectators to hear. “We have agreed to this battle as a symbol of our friendship, which teeters on the winds of fate. If you win, you will be allowed to go freely about your life without me. If I win, you will stay and be my companion and protector. Of course, there is a strong possibility that this battle will end in death. Do you agree to these terms?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Good. One other matter. Since this battle is a symbol of our friendship, I must inform you of another symbol. Teralis!”

Another gate opened. To my surprise, through it walked that huge man I had observed in the jail cell. No longer chained in the dark, he stood his full height, breathing deeply and contracting the muscles across his arms, shoulders and chest. He was massive, a good five inches taller than I and at least eighty pounds heavier, all of it muscle.

“For this battle, Teralis will be symbolic for, well, for me,” Siras said.

“What?” I said, shocked. “We didn’t agree to this.”

“Well, even though I am well-honed and would give you a fair run, I can’t risk injury. I have to travel tomorrow to collect for the company, and I must be fit for the trip. So, Teralis has agreed to fight for me, haven’t you, fellow?” He slapped the meaty shoulder as if the man were a horse. The giant shrugged him off and glared at me, his face an angular mask of power and determination.

“You see, Teralis owes me a debt, and this is how he has chosen to pay it off.”

I looked at the huge man. I had never single-handedly fought someone as big as he. I knew now there was a good chance I would not leave the arena alive. And even through my surprise, I felt an understanding settle within me. This was who Firas was. He was a liar, a weasel who never played unless he could stack the deck. There was no outsmarting the man, as he would always make sure the rules were manipulated to allow him to win, at the expense of everyone else.

I tried to refocus my thoughts. I glared back at my huge opponent, directing at him my hate and rage about Firas’ final betrayal. His eyes met my fury and returned it with a heat I could almost feel, although we were still far apart. He looked like he could willingly rip me apart with his teeth.

“These are the rules,” Firas began. “You will fight until one of you concedes or dies. Round One will be bare-handed fighting for five minutes. If you both survive, we will move to Round Two, for which you will have a choice of weapons. Do you have any questions?”

“Yes.” The big man spoke, surprising me. Firas looked surprised as well.

“Well, what is it?” Firas said impatiently.

“What if we prefer a different game?”

“What are you talking about?”

“What if we chose, instead, to play Tug of War?”

“Tug of War? Why would you want to play that childish game?”

“Because we have a perfect rope between us.”

And with that, the big man grabbed one of Firas’s hands. I may not be the smartest man in the valley, but I realized what was happening before Firas did, for a change.

He only figured it out when I grabbed his other hand.

Teralis nodded to me and said, “One, two, three.”

Firas screamed. The game began.