The adjudicator climbed down from the circle, and the Keeper of the Sands raised his arm. A single horn blast sounded.
Gorain moved swiftly across the circle. Grymauch advanced to meet him. Gorain feinted with a left, then sent a right hand whipping towards Grymauch’s blind side. The clansman stepped inside the blow, hammering a right uppercut to Gorain’s belly which almost lifted the Varlish from his feet. Air whooshed from Gorain’s lungs. Grymauch followed it with a left cross that cracked against Gorain’s cheek. The Varlish managed to roll with the blow. Regaining balance he blocked a right and sent a straight left slamming into Grymauch’s mouth, snapping back his head. The clansman was forced back. Gorain bore in, punches thudding into Grymauch’s belly. Grymauch suddenly side-stepped to the right while snapping out a left hand that took Gorain high on the right cheek. The Varlish, off balance, stumbled and almost fell. Grymauch followed in. Gorain ducked his head and counterattacked. Three punches to the belly and a left uppercut to the face. Now Grymauch stumbled. Gorain threw a big left, but the covering of his left eye made him misjudge the depth and the blow sailed harmlessly past Grymauch’s jaw. The clansman attacked again. Gorain hit him four times without reply, big meaty blows that rocked the highlander. The Varlish crowd were cheering themselves hoarse now. Gorain hammered a punch to Grymauch’s bearded chin that half spun him. Gorain rushed in, hitting him twice more, but missing with a flurry of punches as Grymauch swayed and rolled. An overhand right cannoned into the blind left side of Grymauch’s face. Blood splayed from a gash to his cheek. A huge roar greeted the blow, and, for a moment, Gaise thought the clansman was about to fall. Instead he leapt forward, slamming a bone-jarring left into Gorain’s face. As Gorain fell back Grymauch dropped to one knee, ending the period. The Varlish crowd booed and shouted.
‘Canny,’ said Mulgrave. ‘He needs time to clear his head from that big right.’
‘They seem evenly matched,’ commented Gaise.
‘In raw talent, perhaps,’ said Mulgrave. ‘But Gorain has more learned skill. He is also younger.’
‘You think he will win?’
‘He should, sir. He has the skill and the strength. The question is, does he have the heart?’
This was a question occupying the mind of Chain Shada as he watched the first period. Gorain had been foolish to don the eye patch. The clansman was well used to being single sighted, whereas many of Gorain’s punches were missing their mark, and others were landing off target. Gorain had taken the man too lightly. That first uppercut had winded him badly, sapping his strength. Gorain had also made another mistake, which could prove costly. Unused to being at the centre of attention he had gloried in it, and not taken rests between bouts. Instead he had moved among the crowd, bathing in the adulation. He had also, as Chain had witnessed, been drinking.
In normal circumstances, having already severed his connections with Gorain, Chain would have been unconcerned by his stupidity. Not so now. They were linked in a political game which left a filthy taste in Chain’s mouth. Both fighters were tired and if the fight were to end now Chain knew he could beat them both – probably at the same time. Which was exactly the point that caused the foul taste. Chain Shada was a fighting champion. He fought the best -at their best. Here – if events turned bad – he would merely be an executioner.
The second period followed the pattern of the first, Gorain landing more blows, but the highlander absorbing them and putting in two or three powerful strength-sapping counters. Gorain came back strongly at the end, with combination rights and lefts that rocked the clansman, pitching him to the boards on his back. Gorain walked to the edge of the circle and raised his arms once more to the Varlish, who yelled and bayed in their joy.
Chain Shada watched the clansman. The man rolled to his knees and sat back quietly, gathering his strength. There was blood on his face, streaming from a cut to his cheek, and another to his mouth. He did not rise, but sat watching the Keeper of the Sands. As the keeper raised his hand, so too did the highlander rise.