Drogen dove to the side, rolling out of the way of the fire and losing hold of his sword. He didn’t know if the flames could hurt him or not. There was so much he really didn’t know about his own abilities anymore. But even if natural fire couldn’t hurt him, there was still a chance that Thone’s flames could.

Tarrec had leapt in the other direction. Drogen had a moment to decide which opponent to attack. Going with instinct, he lunged at Thone, who had appeared to prefer long distance attacks to fighting in close. Using his greater size and weight, he plowed into the other man and sent him flying. Thone landed in the sand and Drogen pursued.

Fire erupted all around them. Drogen winced. Thone was grinning madly as the flames created a barrier between them.

Three ladies, Drogen prayed, let my skin keep me safe. He dove through the flames.

Heat rushed along the surface of his skin, but he was so quickly past it, it didn’t burn. I wonder, he thought, does my skin conduct heat like other metals? This was not the time to find out. Thone, seeing that the fire hadn’t deterred him, was pulling out a sword.

Drogen kicked out at Thone’s ankles, knocking the man down before he could draw his blade.

Something hit Drogen, hard, in the rib cage. He stumbled sideways.

Tarrec, hidden by the flames, had punched him. No wonder Thone tried to avoid close fighting with Tarrec, if he could muster that much force. But not more force than Drogen could.

He got to his feet and rushed Tarrec, who seemed initially startled by the approach, but then grinned and opened his arms as if to offer an embrace of brotherhood.

“Oh, no” Terala said, watching the silver colored stranger run right into Tarrec’s reaching arms. He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t know, she thought. Not if he really was from Dorvala. And Tateklys hadn’t seen fit to warn him about Tarrec’s abilities.

“You favor the Dorvallan?” Jaa’lu asked.

“No,” she said immediately. “It just makes the fight less interesting if Tarrec wins right away.”

“As if you have any interest in watching Tarrec fight anymore,” Jaa’lu said.

Terala blushed, and was furious at herself for it.

Jaa’lu, on the other hand, was perfectly delighted. “He looks like he would father strong daughters. Certainly tall ones,” he said. “It would make an excellent story for the Arena.”

“I hardly pick my lovers according to creating stories for the Arena,” she told him.

“You don’t pick lovers,” he corrected.

Again, Terala blushed.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” she said. “The stranger is losing.”

As Drogen attempted to throw Tarrec, he felt a wave of overwhelming tiredness. It was as if the muscles of his legs wouldn’t hold him up anymore. He took a stumbling step.

The gladiator held tight to Drogen, squeezing his arms in ever tighter, as if trying to crush the air out of Drogen.

Drogen fell to one knee. He tried to summon of the strength to crush Tarrec in return, but his arms felt weak. Three ladies, he’s draining me!

The more Drogen struggled against Tarrec, the worse it became. He could feel the life flowing out of him, strengthening his opponent, whose grip only became fiercer.

Well enough, Drogen thought. I can’t use strength against him. But I can use gravity. Drogen let himself fall, but made sure Tarrec would be trapped beneath his weakened body.

He fell to the ground with a thud. Beneath him, he heard something crack.

Terala gasped. For a very long moment both men were completely still. Ariax Thone approached the two prone men.

“Oh, I’ll bet he claims this as a victory!” she said.

“And you as the spoils,” Jaa’lu commented.

She shuddered.

“I will never understand, Terala, why you don’t simply destroy him,” Jaa’lu told her.

She just shook her head. Jaa’lu’s faith in her was touching, if misplaced.

Just then, the stranger moved. He got one arm under himself and began to rise.

Thone kicked against the back of the stranger’s elbow, forcing it to bend entirely in the wrong direction. The stranger fell to the ground again.

“Stand up,” she whispered.

The crowd roared as Thone continued kicking Drogen. Beneath him, Drogen could feel Tarrec’s labored breathing. He wasn’t sure how he had injured the other man, but the gladiator was clearly unconscious.

He couldn’t just lie there. Drogen knew he couldn’t just lie there. That would be worse than losing. That would be giving up. He hadn’t given up on Dorvalla, in his last nightmarish evening on his home planet. He had fought through far more than merely two gladiators, he reminded himself. He had defeated several platoons of the Imperial army. He was not going to give up now.

He saw, in his mind’s eye, the Golden Lady in the dance of battle. Remembered how easily and lightly she moved. He was not so graceful as that. But, remembering, he used his weight to roll himself away from Thone’s blows. Continuing to roll, he used his uninjured arm to lever himself up, onto his feet. He turned to Thone and grinned. This was battle!

Thone threw up a barrier of fire between them. More than a barrier. It was a solid wall of flames, several feet deep.

“Come find me,” the other man taunted.

Drogen entered the flames, walking steadily towards Thone. As he passed that barrier of fire, another barrier came up between them. He took in a deep breath before stepping into the flames.

His skin became hotter. It wasn’t quite burning, but it was close. If he hadn’t been covered in alloy, he was certain his skin would have blistered and burnt away in the heat. He blinked down his inner eyelid. Pain began to thrill along his nerves. He wondered if his own skin, so hot, could cook his insides.

Drogen kept following Thone, pressing him further and further back, towards the Arena wall. Thone would keep throwing up barriers of flames as he fell back; Drogen couldn’t predict how long it would take to wear him down. But if he could get Thone used to this slow, steady pace, there was a chance he could surprise the man with a sudden increase in speed.

Indeed, it worked perfectly. Just before they reached the Arena wall, Drogen ran at Thone. With his one good arm, he punched Thone in the gut hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Thone doubled over, and Drogen grabbed the other man’s arm. His fingers, so hot from all of Thone’s flames, burnt the other man’s skin.

Thone cried out in shock. Drogen pulled him forward, bringing up a knee at the same time.

His knee smashed into Thone’s rib cage with a crunch.

Thone fell.

“Do you yield?” Drogen asked, standing over the fallen man. Thone said nothing, gasping for breath. “Do you yield?”

The man nodded. “Yes,” he whispered, his answer broadcast throughout the Arena audience. “I yield.” Then he smiled. “Well fought.”