AND
NOW HONK HONK and the others found themselves at the very Gates of
the Games! It had been a bit of a push, getting one or two of them to
hurry along, with so many interesting attractions along the way, but
they were now at the Gates of the Arena, two kilometers away from the
city and town of Sil, and the children gazed in awe at the grounds
that lay before them – from the vast, deep amphitheater holding
thousands, to the deep pool that lay off to the let, where rowing and
swimming competitions occurred, Or maybe the wide track that ran in a
circle roundabout the arena, with guards at the entry points to
assure no spectators could interfere by accidentally walking out into
it while a race was being run. Banners flew from poles at precise
thirty meter lengths. On the stone seats of the amphitheater, workers
had spent the day laying programs for the events, so that the seats
were covered each in large white paper. On the seats of the well to
do VIP section, these workers had also each lain a rose, as a memento
they might cherish later for years on a dusty mantelpiece.
Tomorrow
was the Day of the Game Song Sing. At the occasion, groups of men and
women from the different provinces all grouped together at the start
of the ceremony, and sang the Anthem to Tudops, the Anthem to
Palacha, and the Anthem to Corocovo, now in his twelfth year or
ruling. Of course, it was yet unknown whether or not the King might
actually appear at the Games this year or not, being out of his
league in the matter of his boudoir and Lady, but yet it would be
certain that those charged with upholding the traditions of the
games- the Sponsors, the Maintainers of the Arena, the
Boroughmeisters of Sil- all these forces worked in concert so that
when the King would decide whether he came or not all things would be
under control and proceeding to plan with or without him.
All
round the Arena nestled in little niches were statues of past
celebrated champions -of decades past- and representations of various
sports that took place therein. Huge torches blazed from cornices in
the arena’s pavilion stands, and at the time of the Song, their
would be groups of athletes chosen to represent, gathered in the Pit
of the Arena, all hoisting their respective banners, and singing the
Praises of their benefactors- Sun, Nation, and King.
The
children were not as anonymous as they had been left to feel however-
for the news of the missing children had traveled to Sil at the time
of Orodam’s departure, and there were a crew of town dignitaries
assembled not far from where the kids found themselves. The leader of
this bunch, one Glanza, approached Honk Honk with three of his men.
The staffs they carried were imposing, as were the men’s gruff
appearance and clothing. Obviously they had been targonid hunters at
one point in their lives, thought Honk Honk. But if I get a chance,
I’ll show them I am just as tough and fierce!
“Ho
there! You must be the Ransomed Ones! We are here for your behalf! As
members of the town council of Sil, we have made all accommodations
for you! You will not need sleep in the fields this evening, nor any
other as long as the Games are on! Won’t you come with us? We have
a celebration planned for you at our favorite tavern!”
Honk
Honk didn’t speak. He looked at the others. It would be just as
well with him if the girls went with this offer, but he and Rlok and
Matim and Jonc better be left out of this! He had big plans- of the
chickens he could steal, of the apple orchard he knew would be just
ripe enough at this time, and the idea of sleeping in some house in a
bed at a time like this- what sort of adventure was that?
Yoni
made her way through the throngs of the streets of Sil. Everywhere
preparations had been made, and people were in the process of both
welcoming the tourists like herself, or putting the finishing touches
to the town’s decorations. Coming here as a single woman, she would
not be looked upon in any ways different from so many of the others
who came, although there was no need in her life for partnering, nor
parenting. And so there would be little reason for her to be involved
in so many of the different games that went on with the women of
Palacha behind the scenes, at the Games. She had no rivals, no others
who were obvious competitors to take the one man she had set her mark
on.
Although
when she left that morning she barely thought it, by the time she had
made her acquaintance of her taverner for the night, she had put her
mind on the Duron she had known as a younger nymph. Back when there
was little to wonder about about anything other than, how was that
man built, beneath his toga? All the same, it would be only a matter
of time before she would run into him somewhere here in Sil or the
Arena, and she made herself comfortable in her room going through the
various spots around where it might be that she eventually did.
Duron
had been twenty two and as the bulkiest and strongest man of his
cohort, the Farmland Champions of so many years past, and Yoni had
been two years his junior but speedy and primed for marathons. The
attraction had been mutual, and so had the parting. Or so she had
thought. On the morning of the Games Song Sing, however, he was
nowhere near.
Duron
had begged off from Craald about getting themselves a Sil slut to
share like they had the other night, and booked himself into a small
room near the great Ovens of the Games, where the targonids were
roasted, and all manner of food for the thousands of spectators
primarily prepared. At least, that which came on the public dime,
that of King Corocovo. He settled into his own dreamless pillow,
thinking only of how the next day he would have to go to the King and
report on the episode of the children. The children were free, but
safe? He laughed. When he was young he had runaway to the games
himself, only two years before he had met that … usbanler
Yoni. He didn’t think about her but how he had won at darts and
made his way back up to champion and in such a position that he was
in effect, one of the King’s most trusted outriders. And what sort
of things could he say to his liege?
Yes,
the children were safe, but no, we did not catch the rapscallions?
For now he knew Corocovo could only put a bounty on the heads of both
Congulula and Llnash – a bounty which would likely be sneered at by
the peoples of Loronam, but no less, bound to gain the interests of
the King’s loyal subjects.
Loronam
itself, originally an outpost of explorers to the west of the great
dividing range of Gwala, located at the side of a river which flowed
from springs high up, home to all manner of outcasts from Palacha,
those who had either neglected to join in the Ondinian revolt, but
only moved over the hills, or those who came there, like Congulula
and Llnash, as fugitives- a center of anarchy in the King’s mind, a
haven for a free marketer and profiteer on another’s.
Duron
then had to rise early, and make a round trip journey from Sil to
Palachina and back, in the company of the King when he returned. For
the King not to be present at the Day of Song Sing would be a
blasphemy of a kind, and Duron was, at least in his own mind, pretty
sure that it would be a priority of King Corocovo himself to want to
be ready to ride to Sil when he came to furnish his report.
So
sighing wearily from his bed, he took to the small kitchen that lay
on the first floor of the inn, next to the bar. Here, he made himself
a breakfast of targonid rump and gorgoz, and so feeling heartily
prepared, he began the long ride back, taking care to feed and water
his horse Blue Willow before leaving.
He
found the King just as he would have expected- all the palace guard
and courtiers arranged ‘round a King ‘dressed to kill’ for the
great ceremony of the Games Song Sing was the most regal presentation
of his Majesty conceivable to the average Ztamian peasant. Duron
could have laughed out loud at the number of small children from the
Farmlands who also had come to gather at the feet of the King’s
throne, for some of them were the sons and daughters of men he knew
and had oft rode and plowed with. The gang of children laughed
cackled burbled and made various eruptive noises as Duron bowed to
the King.
“Your
Majesty, I report to you- the children are safe, they are free from
the kidnappers. But they themselves- we were unable to apprehend.
It’s our feeling they rode east to Loronam, and if we wanted to, we
could go after them there...”
“But
I see no point in that at the moment, Duron. We have these other
matters to attend to. And you say they are safe? What of the
parents?”
“The
parents paid the ransom, and they are in attendance at Sil. Where, I
have my expectations, we are soon about to return?”
“Yes,
Yes, yes“ mumbled Corocovo. “We’ll get on soon enough.
Meanwhile, look what we have here!”
He
nodded with a light point off to his side at the children huddled and
sitting Indian-style around him.
“These
little sprats are off to the games as well. It’s my hope we shall
bring them with us, with the other children at the Games? Perhaps
some accommodations can be made for them all.”
Beaming
generously, Corocovo laughed and took up his royal staff and thumped
it three times on the floor.
“We
ride, we ride to the Games! And we will bring along this little
throng, and everyone will have a song to sing along at the Song
Sing!”
With
fifes and drums and squires with trailing headpieces, the retinue of
King Corocovo III’s court began the trek to Sil. They could arrive
in an easy five hours, and by that time, Tudops would hang suspended
at the top of the sky. And all the Games players and spectators and
the hundreds of different craftspeople of all kinds who lined the
roads of the approaches- all the King’s majesty was emboldened now,
as Duron rode beside them, and a mob of raggly children followed
merrily behind.
The
process of the Games- the week of the contests, fetes, feasts, and
orgies, took a week. Each day was demarcated with special attention
to some aspect of the variety of attentions which could call people
from the countryside from all over the kingdom.
The
first day was the Day of the Song Sing.
It
was followed by the day of the Targonids, the Day of the Bakers, The
Day of the Harvest, the Day of the Virgins, the Day of the Champions,
and the Day of Tudops. To wit- the Day of the Targonids was devoted
to targonid completions, athletic and culinary. From roping and
riding to barbecuing with relish, the Day of the Targonids meant that
many, many of the crowds around would at least get a good plateful of
the succulent meat for their supper, whether at the terms of the King
at the end of the afternoon, or the Queen’s judge, comments on
chef’ prowess, where free samples were ranged to the first three or
four hundred who could pack the square near the great Targonid Ovens
that lay on one portion of the Arena’s exterior.
The
Bakers utilized their own ovens, on the other side of the arena, the
following day, It would be a give that Rolot the baker would be
conniving to get one of the various patrons who made up the panel of
judges to taste one of his creations. The Day of the Harvest featured
a ceremonial parade with a cornucopia drawn on a long low wagon, with
marching bands and proud farm boys in line as the King and the Queen
gazed over them in reverent praise. For it was hard work making the
crops grow. The Ztamian winter was fiercer than would have been
Earth’s, with four months of bleak cold edged with terrific rain
and lightning storms. The crops needed be in before all that
commenced, and it was so that these rude laborers could feel honor in
their efforts that a day was given over to them.
The
Day of the Virgins was one the reasons all the children were
hastening to get to Sil. For to be the first among their cohort to
lose this proof of innocence was nearly always some sort of contest
for many of the runaways who came of their own to the Arena and the
Games for Games Week. A king and a queen virgin would be nominated
from among the scrabbly bands of runaway kids, by the acclamation of
the children themselves. While it may or may not have been something
of a status symbol to be the King of the Virgins, Honk Honk however
would rather ready himself for the sacrifice of that detestable
title, and more for the Champion of the Bed. He thought that title
would suit him a hella lot better, anyway. Once the King and Queen of
Virgins had been picked, it would be their due to have to consummate
in copulation in front of a thousand mainly elder Ztamians. The old
beefy men in their greasy togas kneeling behind their wagons to
ejaculate at passerby were always guaranteed to get their jollies, as
were the matronly cougars who prowled the amphitheater rows, seeking
out tousle- headed young studs for their flattering gigolos.
The
Day of the Champions was when the winners from the competitions- a
fair majority of which took place on this day alone- were named and
celebrated, with crowns of laurel and orgofam, and as well, champions
were named from among the semi-official competitions which took place
in the many venues of sexual pleasure. That male and female champion
were almost always, but not in all cases, called upon by their peers
to fornicate in a special grove which had been unofficially created
in a vale about two kilos from the Arena- there, in a ceremony lit by
torches and on a bed made of orgofam briars, surrounded by dozens of
their admirers, the winners would copulate, sometimes for hours,
while cheered on by these friends … Who themselves turned to each
other, for frolic was the name of the game whenever the races and
trysts of the day had been completed.
The
final day, the day when everyone took their bets on how they were
going to spend the next five days, five months, five years, or a
lifetime, with any conceptualized idea of a partner, was the Day of
Tudops. This was given over completely to the cult of their star, and
all the many different sorts of sacrifice were made. The Song of
Tudops was once again sung, lustily by all, for at the completion of
this final day would also conclude with another very serious mass
orgy. Couples of all kinds made their selves known as such, for in
this humid climate, there had never been any impetus for those
attending the games to wear any sort of dress. Special houses had
been erected in different spots round Sil and the Arena where
Games-goers could shed whatever they had come wearing, and have them
safely secured and returned when they departed.. It was most people’s
hope not to make the return trip alone, for another great benefit of
the Day of Tudops was that it was the traditional day of final
choice, for women to pick what man they had best been pleasured by
over the last week, and for men to make vows unto the women who had
chosen them. This was the way things usually went. In most years. But
this year, with the King’s situation at the palace with Queen
Aashon in such a state, it was unclear if the King would be staying
at Sil long enough to hold forth over the great finale Sing, or cast
his blessing over the thousands of copulating subjects who were
in every position imaginable when he would take the time to take leave
of them all.
