"Every Empire Falls" (Grong) Chapter I translation feature - Literature Club "Infinity"

Fletcher Grong I

Today took place in the tournament semifinals. Grong dropped his large body into the soft chair. Next to oversized men sit Jovan Boža and Stanley Leikman: fighting arenas' co-owners and Yakov, Grongs' friend sat down at the back. Break came to an end, so the stadium again began to buzz from returning visitors. Blakner stadium where was the fighting arena, was enormous building: it was able to place at least nine thousand seated people, and smoke from the chemical sticks covered whole giant ceiling and you could feel like sitting under night sky meanwhile the spotlights reminded bright stars on a black night sky.

Grong bought M'ara from Oton prison three months ago and invested in her as a potential fighter. All he knew about woman was that she was endured in prison for seven years and was brought from Rashtehn to Oton sector like two years ago. Woman was fined with the death sentence for many and multiple old crimes, most of them - even after The Last War.The long survived prisoners very often became potential fighters and sometimes earnt honor, glory, and even freedom. One of these was Zikas Grender who was imprisoned in Oton for whole decade - from the very beginning of the Deportation, while a year ago he won his freedom and became honor fighter. Winning the Blakner tournament was not only a great honor but also a great money. Grong knew that quite far not all of the money goes to the winner, but the rest was decent enough to take a step into normal life. In fact, Grong did not care about the woman past. The most important thing was how his M'ara could fight. And she has proven it during selection battles. Women, in general, were rarity in this tournament, and even more rarely, they remained up to the tournament semi-finals. Oversized men remembered that to pull her out of prison was strangely easy. Maybe nobody cares about women? For his new fighter, Grong transferred almost seven thousand to TC Internacional and then M'ara belonged to him. Other prisoners, potentially suitable for fighting could cost at least three to five times more. The man decided that it was extremely successful transaction, and if it is still able to somehow win... Returning from a betting point, Fletcher had bet seventy thousand and knew that, most likely, after this fight will bet more on her.

"Do not trust your woman in too mutch". Said Boža with semi-drunk voice while sitting next to Grong from the right.

"If wins my Jaya, you will lose everything". The man was wearing a white jacket and had short, black hair beard.

"Until you have not seen her, it's just idle talk" - retorted Grong and felt angry.

"When this tournament was won by a woman, say?" The same man from the right was not about to calm down at all. Fletcher remembered that Jovan had bet for his Jaya Tîrban a hundred and sixty thousand credits and now it could have been more yet.

However, he told the truth.

Woman still has not won a tournament.

M'aras' owner decided not to answer to him. Grong watched the empty arena fence, where had fight prisoners and then man crackled his fingers to calm down himself. For a moment he thought that he behaves not tactical about bets on only his fighter and Boža was right when he told that he have big chance to lose everything if she be defeated. But he did not care what said the Co-owner, most important was his fighter chances to be able to defeat Božos' favorite. Stout man took a deep breath and tried to relax once more.

If I manage to win, I will be able to permanently leave this bloody place and move to Ezalt..

The man has calculated, that he need at least seven hundred thousand units in the amount of resources value, whether in corporate credit, or in the old money, but moving to Ezalt was only one way to secure and a good life. Everything has to be solved tonight, during the finals. If his woman would reach the victory he could sell the woman in the auction - as for the winners prices usually had started from numbers which had minimum five zeros and never less than six. And till the final fight, thousands of visitors, businessmen, seekers of happiness, fools and drunks, were able to carry the millionth amount. Betting point counter was moving toward the first million, but Grong knew that the real betting always starts approaching the finals only. He had already bet with to Jovan Boža and Stanley - if his M'ara wins then they will both transfer one quarter of the remaining cash to Grong which has been not used on previous betting. Fat man has never so trusted on his purchased fighter as he did now. For five consecutive years before, he was betting carefully and in small amounts trying to make sure to know the potential winner.

But now he had seen the winner already...

Fletcher was busy with his mind and missed M'aras' presentation before the fight and woke up only when she was already in the arena. Now the stadium was once again full of spectators and catching full capacity. In some places were glowing red chemical sticks.

"If your woman wins this time, I will bet fifteen thousand more for her just because of our great and long friendship, mister Grong". Stanley tried to shout down the stadium noise and the stout man just nodded to him.

Stanley was a light brownish eye guy with a pleasant face. He was dressed in khaki-colored jacket with lots of pockets and plaid underwear, which could be seen through the top of semi-opened jacket.

"Mister Grong, you see, as she stares at you?" Stanley tapped with Elbow and motioned to the woman standing in the center of the arena.

She wore Cured Skin protection on the chest and shoulders and on not covered skin obscured haunted tattoo fragments. Right woman's' eyebrow was pierced by line of black, tight-fitting piercings and blond hair crest suited to the sharp facial features.

Then Grong met her gaze. She looked at him as if nothing else alive had been at the stadium. She completely ignored the crowd of thousands of people, the noise and just delineated her opponent. A look was cold and stabbing. Grong found himself unable to escape and hide. For a moment he wanted the fight to take place as soon as possible to stop her killer gaze. In addition, it was difficult to understand how the champion was able so quickly observe him between the mass of the people despite the fact that he was sitting so far away...

Do not look at me like this...

A couple of seconds Grong felt strangely weak and small.

"Got Jaya Tîrban". A powerful male voice through the speaker welcomed the man who took the other side of the arena and lifted fists up, basking in the loud crowd humming.

"This man is the winner of Blackner tournament in sixth year in a row and has already tasted glory! Maybe this time he will taste it once more? Give him the glory!". The voice through the speaker turned to the stadium mighty people.

"Give Jaya Tîrban glory with your bets!!!"
Someone pity today - quietly prunkštelėjo Grong, when the signal has announced the beginning of March. He glanced at Jovana God, but he was now apžiojęs bottle, so he did not say anything Grong.

"Someone will regret those words" quietly said Grong to himself and when the signal has announced the beginning of Match. He glanced at Jovan but he was now drinking from the bottle so he did not say anything Grong.

As a weapon, M'ara chosen long spear and short axe while Jaya Tîrban got large rectangular shield and a long bayonet. Woman's decision seemed strange but that wasn't Grong's competence to judge the weapon of choice. He took a deep breath when the challenged came close together. The drone of the stadium gradually subsided.

Woman kept at safe distance and did not let her enemy get too close. It was a long weapon superiority. However, against a good shield it was useless. Grong realized that women often was glancing at Jaya's feet and waiting for an opportunity to strike, but he was protecting himself with a shield quite well.

Her spear had protrusions on the sides as Grong now had noticed it and understand weapon use only when woman hit the edge of the oponent's shield and almost didn't pulled it out of his hand. Stanley Leikman was leaning elbow and watched the fight at ease. He had brought out Jebrih Galatone and could only worry about the next fight.

Grong flinched when Jaya cutted M'aras' spear head when she again tried to rip out his shield. Now preponderance departed to Grong's detriment, rather to M'aras' disadvantage. Fletcher stared with angry look to drunk Jovan then he started to laugh like mad.

"Mr Fletcher, are you still sure of her victory? I have some huge doubts here"

"You is not the one to decide " Silently replied chunky man and followed the battle utter.

If Tîrban kills her then I'll suddenly stood up and go out.

"She's not about to give up yet". Replied Jakov voice from behind and man put his hand on Grong's shoulder.

"Look".

He continued watching the fight and seems even did not feel the stadium noise, Stanley's alleged remarks in the ear and Jakov tap on the shoulder.

M'ara was sharpening severed end of her spear and was avoiding enemy's axe by quick movements. Foe wanted to press up woman into the corner, but unsuccessfully. She acted very quickly and it needed to pass very little time to cut off the stick and turn it into suitable sharp killing tool again. During this process she found Grong eyes again and gazed at them cold for couple of moments.

Grong, seems forget to breathe when Jaya swung his long bayonet but woman fighter stopped him by hatchet and continued spear sharpening after felt back a little.

She's completely crazy - quietly acknowledged Grong, when she again allowed the opponent to come dangerously close.

After Fletcher regained his breath, he realized how unusually quiet is the stadium. Then everything went very quickly: M'ara avoided another man attack with bayonet, then felt back few steps back and threw the ax into his head but the opponent blacked it by raising shield above his head. During the same second M'ara stabbed spear into his leg and turned it at high angle.

"I newer was dissapointed by her". Said Grong then Jovan's bottle fallen out of his hands on the ground and crashed. Fletcher enjoyed white and at same time partially red men's face.

Then Grong turned to arena, Men fighter layed on the ground dead with spear stabbed into his chest.

It seems that the attempt to bite off the glory of seventh time is over.

Men needed to shield his ears to avoid headache from the crowd's noise.

He appointed a couple of moments to reflect on the dead man.

Does he at least managed to exclaim "give up"?

Grong was confident that during the next break he will bet everything for his fighter no matter who will win in the next fight: Galatone or Zikas. The man remembered that he still wons some numbers of shares and securities that could be cluttered to TC Internacional. He knew that the body of the corporation might likely agrees to participate in betting game. TC Internacionalis cash resources never ended. M'ara have already ensured her place in the finals.

All or nothing.

However, man realized that he knows his fighter quite poorly. And he did not liked that her gaze.

I wonder what she thinks?

While leaving the arena M'ara, not even looked at Grong side. She came out holding her head straight maybe a little bit elevated. She always entered and left battle arena in the same way as if know in advance how it all will end. But now Grong felt great relief not only for the victory chances but also because she remained not hurt what increased the potential to win the final.

"Unexpected end". Said Jakov who was always quietly sitting in the back. "I am sure that M'ara, Mr. Fletcher, will bring you great fame".

"Thank you for your support" Fat man nodded back.

Although Yakov was not a co-owner of the arena, he has always been faithful to Grong as helper and friend. He rarely bet on the fighters and even if he did then spent very few money on the betting game. Grong always let him to sit near because hearing support, fighter praise appeasement word has always been a pleasure.

"Who will be next?" Still blushing and trembling tone muttered Jovan Boža, trying to clean the drink what splashed on his white jacket.

"Zikas and Galatone" said Stanley.

Jovan has just lost a hundred and sixty thousand, maybe more. Some of them will be mine soon and be added to the final price.