The Birth Of The Beta

25. THE PIT

Caius and Pepin were walking down the road to one of the seedier parts of the city. It was incredibly neglected, to the point that even the cobbles had worn away in embarrassment. Squelching sounds from the thick mud underfoot caused them both to lift their legs from the knees to prevent getting stuck. Bare-breasted women stood at the doorways bawling for business, lewdly. Musical magnified moaning merged into the background noise of each pleasure house they passed.

Suddenly, stopping at a quiet building on the row, which seemed out of place next to the bawdier venues, Caius pushed the door open and nodded his head to the side encouraging Pepin to follow. The first floor was barely visible with only a few boxes dotted about.

“Can you see anything human? I can only just make out the shapes using Clovis’ eyes,” Pepin asked his guide.

“No, but I’ve been coming here since I was a child. I only need to remember where the stairs are in each building and they keep the direct path to it clear. If you know the way you won’t fall, so I count the steps I know there should be and reach out for the bannister,” Caius explained seriously.

It occurred to Pepin that Caius could only be around seventeen, it was strange that he was so comfortable navigating these unsavoury streets.

Shadowing Caius, Pepin descended the steps. Relieved when he saw that the lower floor had a golden glow from the sticks of wood that were burning in strategic places, predominantly near the rudimentary pit. Caius approached a desk as if he had done this countless times before. He gave his name, but changed Pepin’s to 'The Brawling Beta'. Pepin was trying not to laugh at the moniker, but did think it would hardly strike fear into his opponents.

“You said you’ve been coming here many years?” Pepin asked Caius, who simply nodded in reply.

“And that’s the best name you could come up with for me!” He pretended to be annoyed, but his smirk indicated he was only teasing the younger man.

“I only thought of it because Aoife told me that she saved you from a brawl with some humans, it seemed fitting,” Caius bantered back, and Pepin was pleasantly surprised by the human’s quick wit, laughing rambunctiously in appreciation.

“That she did,” He replied “That she did!” Clapping his hand on Caius’ back.

Reaching the ring, Pepin assessed the conditions. The ground was made of sand, where patches of blood had already decorated the scene. This would cause some skidding. Planks of wood were staked in a circle, outlining the boundaries of the fighting ring. The wooden slats stopped at shoulder height, so the crowd could have an unobstructed view of the action, and Pepin could see how some of the faces already had splashes of crimson blood that was turning brown pebbled across their faces. Sand bags were piled high to soak up the worst of the bloody puddles left behind. Two small boys were raking the ground picking up chunks of flesh from the previous fight. Caius’ eyes zoned in on the children, the corners of his eyes tightened with empathetic wretchedness.

Strutting to the centre of the ring, a stout man stood with his palm held up, commanding the eager audience’s attention. His other hand lay across his paunchy belly, and when he spoke the flab on his jowls rippled in accordance with his deep tones. His tunic was black, but his toga was red and he looked every inch the announcer of death.

“Gentlemen, rogues and scoundrels, I have an extravagant event for you next. A battle of experience versus energy. Who will you place your bets on? Our pit's favourite ‘The Skull Crusher’ or our new challenger ‘The Brawling Beta’!” A crescendo of cheers and jibes resonated from the pit master’s introduction, and men were darting to the tables to place their bets, and part with their money.

“You should be able to beat Skull Crusher. He’s big, but slow and not very sophisticated with his moves. As his name suggests, he literally crushes his enemies’ skulls with his hand,” Caius coached him quickly.

“Nothing to worry about then,” Pepin replied flippantly.

Confidently. Pepin jumped into the circular pit. The money from this would be spent releasing Aoife from her contract. There simply wasn’t a chance he wouldn’t win. He loved her too much to lose.

The clunking scrape of a chain being retracted, interrupted the enthusiasm of the crowd, and a huge man emerged from a cage pit. He was almost as wide as he was tall, a block of muscle. Although in human form, he snarled with streams of stringy spit dripping off his teeth and onto his chin. He was more animal than human. Realisation hit Pepin hard, the wolf had turned rogue and his behaviour was feral. Pepin couldn’t help feeling the sympathy that tightened his muscles around his chest. When he first left the temple, he asked Clovis what happened to lonely wolves, and he had explained about rogue wolves. With less luck, he could have been like the man who stood in front of him now.

“No you couldn’t, I would always save us from that,” Clovis rejected the thought.

The competitor moved like a bear, slightly hunched forward in an imposing manner, extenuating his height advantage. His arms were huge clubs swiping across his body, containing incredible force, but little aim. His small steps, that he used to ensure he had balance, were heavy and shouted every intended move he was planning on throwing. Pepin ducked under the swinging arm, punching his mid-drift as he created a defence at the side of the brutish bear-like man. In the time it took for the skull-crusher to turn, the Beta wolf had landed a flurry of punches onto his rib cage. Each pummel answered with a painful crack, and a vengeful roar. The colossal wolf twisted to find the nimble man, but each time he turned he would feel a pain on the opposite side of his body that he had left exposed. Reaching through his legs, he grabbed Pepin’s ankle and dangled him in front of his face. Pepin cringed at the foul breath of the beast, but refusing to give up, he swung closer to his enemy and aimed his elbow above his nose, slamming it down with a satisfying crunch. Shocked, the monster released his grip, dropping Pepin in a heap on the floor. Using the distraction, Pepin kicked the back of the fighter’s knees, until he dropped to the ground. Shifting his hand into Clovis’ claw, he smashed through the soft tissue of the lonely wolf, and dropped his warm spongey heart into the middle of the pit. Pepin swore he saw a peaceful smile settle on the wolf’s face.

Some of the crowd complained, some screamed with excitement as Pepin returned to Caius.

“Why did you kill him?” Caius asked, interested by the brutality of the match.

“Wasn’t I supposed to?” Pepin asked, curiously.

“It’s the pit, there aren’t any rules. It’s just that…I know you are reasonable, you wouldn’t kill without motive,” Caius clarified.

“He was a rogue, and whoever he was before wouldn’t have enjoyed living like that. It was a cruel mercy,” Pepin explained.

Once the money had been split between them, with Pepin taking a smaller share to pay back all the advances he had had, the unlikely pair retraced their steps back to Heaton House.