“What else is there to check out?”

Applause surrounded Arthur, and he joined in as he watched the knight in the makeshift ring hold up his hands. The fight they’d witnessed had ended with a single victor who had displayed his strength against two foes. Both of the blacksmith apprentices were on their backs, gasping for air, as a squire brought them water. They’d fought bravely, but in the end, they couldn’t compare to the knight’s training.

He knew the whole thing was a tactic to get more people to join the knights disguised as a free show. That didn’t stop him from feeling a slight sense of awe at the prowess on display. Rab, who stood next to him, looked thoughtful as he tapped at his chin.

“There are other games and challenges to partake in. Though, if I may beg a favor?”

“What do you need?” Arthur looked towards his companion, whose eyes were frilly locked toward the ring where two squires were being handed weapons.

Excitement filled Rab’s voice. “I would like to be back for the sign-ups for the participation matches.”

“You want to fight?”

He almost grimaced at the sheer stupidity of the question. Of course, the bigger knight would want to fight, and he wasn’t sure why he expected anything else. Around him, people glanced over, and he saw coins change hands—familiar golden disks.

“Are they betting using my currency?” Arthur thought to himself as he watched the coins all flow to one man. “That might be worth getting into.”

“I do. Someone needs to show these pups what actual combat looks like,” Rab said as he broke away from the ring and the knight, explaining the rules to the squires.

“Then I can’t see an issue with getting back here in time.”

“Excellent!” Rab’s large hand clapping him on the back didn’t make him stumble; instead, it simply felt heavy. “Then what catches your fancy? Games of chance? Contests of skill? Drinking with the serving girls?”

A laugh accompanied that last statement, and Arthur shook his head. “Let’s see what’s on offer.”

“As you wish. Onwards!”

For the next hour, Arthur followed Rab around the small collection of stalls that people had set up. The games and events were simple things, but the sheer joy on the faces of those who visited them warmed his heart.

At one, children played horseshoes, while at another they bobbed for apples. A trick-shooting archery contest drew a large crowd, which spilled over to the nearby spear-throwing event. Both contestants eventually started trying to hit each other’s targets, one upping the other with displays of strength and dexterity.

As they walked, he noticed the wary looks people showed towards their small group, with some parents pulling their children away from them. While each stall was polite and didn’t stop them from trying their hand, the relief on their faces was visible when they left. Rab said nothing, but he noticed the way the knight looked around as though half-expecting an attack.

The entire thing annoyed him, even if he understood it. They might have accepted him and even Theobold to an extent, but Augustus was a step too far. More beast than man, they’d grown up being taught to fear things like him from a young age.

He did his best to smile at those whose eyes he caught, then stopped when he saw them flinch away from his teeth. When they did, he felt his skin itch, and he scratched at the side of his arm. Rab shook his head, a sure sign that he’d noticed.

“I wouldn’t take it personally, Arthur. They are afraid and weary of being afraid. It had little to do with you.”

“They don’t need to be,” Arthur said as he resisted the urge to pull out a coin to feel the warm metal flick through his hands. “At least the knights who visit don’t make an issue out of my employees. A fact that’s going to become more important soon, I think.”

“Oh?” Rab asked, sounding cautious.

“One of my staff requested to be mutated. If things get more dangerous, others deciding to do the same wouldn’t surprise me.”

He didn’t bother sugarcoating the truth. If he wanted Alyssa and the knights to come back to the store, they would realize that Carly had changed and probably learn why. Plus, he didn’t want to hide it. If the knights were his allies, they would learn to deal with it.

“And if they don’t?” Arthur thought to himself as he pushed the ember of rage down. “Then I shall deal with it.”

His arm itched again, and he idly scratched it before he turned to look at Rab, who’d stopped walking. The knight’s face showed a mix of emotions, though anger was prominent. Others who’d overheard their conversation held similar expressions, though, to his relief, none approached.

Augustus shifted his position, clearly sensing the same mood. Arthur gripped his cane, though he tried not to show any outward aggression.

“I don’t agree with it,” Rab said eventually, his voice soft. “You know that?”

Arthur nodded. “Of course.”

“It was their decision.”

“They asked during their interview, but it’s only recently that they’ve wanted to go through with it.” Honestly appeared to be the best policy, a fact that Rab’s nod confirmed.

“As long as you’re not forcing it on anyone, I suppose there isn’t a true problem. Besides, this is supposed to be a party. Let us not ruin the mood with such talk.”

“Agreed.”

A smile crossed Arthur’s face as he nodded and followed the knight back to the festivities. He knew the knights wouldn’t be on board with the mutations soon, which was the reason he hadn’t brought Jemima. Though that Rab’s response wasn’t to make demands or lecture him on the issues he had was a start, even if the look on his face told him he wanted to do nothing more.

While they played more games, Arthur did his best to chat with the stall owners. His conversation with Cyrus let him know the knights weren’t the most well-stocked group, and so he wanted to find out what they needed. At first, they didn’t want to talk to him. Then he started taking the games seriously, and the surrounding whispers changed.

He remembered his boosted strength, but he hadn’t realized how much he’d changed. Pins flew under the speed at which he tossed small metal balls; bells clanged to signify his tests of strength; and even his pain tolerance seemed to have gone up. The last one he found out was when he allowed a rather eager knight to punch him directly in the side.

The blow was heavy, but he didn’t even wince while the knight walked away, shaking out his hand. After a moment to calm Augustus down, he collected his small prize, a wooden trophy in the shape of a fist. He placed it in his briefcase, an immense joy filling him at the idea of growing his hoard with all the small trinkets he’d gathered.

After that display, people opened up to him and were more than happy to give him lists of things they needed. What that was ranged from small trinkets to more raw materials like wood, and some even mentioned being interested in his coins.

He did his best to nod and tell them he would work on it, and now when he left a spot, the murmuring was mostly positive. Though it didn’t stop the stink eye, he got from some of the patrolling knights. At one point, a small squad split off, abandoning their patrol route entirely.

Before he could ask about it, Rab’s hand clapped down on his shoulder with a thump.

“It’s time.”

Arthur nodded and said his quick goodbyes to a woman who sold carved wooden dolls. They’d discussed getting them paint, and he promised to talk to Cyrus about finding the best way to supply her. The last thing he wanted to do was directly undermine the Trade-Captain’s authority.

That done, he moved off with Rab and a large section of the crowd to see the fights. Good spirits surrounded him, and he couldn’t help but look up at the larger knight.

“What do you think the odds are going to be against you?”

“Oh, you’re planning on gambling?” Rab laughed. “I would say you have little to gain by betting on a sure thing. Will you step in the ring yourself?”

“No, I’m content to watch and make my meager coin from your victory.”

The two continued to chat as they made their way to the ring. Arthur couldn’t contain his excitement at watching his friend take the crown.

***

When they arrived, they found the area packed with people there to watch, place bets, or deal with those volunteering. Arthur watched as Rab marched off towards a group of knights who were clearly vying to enter the competition, all standing before a red-faced man trying to take names on a small notepad.

He turned in the opposite direction, heading towards the betting pool. Knights and civilians alike were waving everything from Golden Pennies to handmade goods. The men taking the bets stood in front of a chalkboard that showed signs of being cleaned far too many times. Names and numbers covered it, and Arthur understood none of them—not that it mattered.

“Three hundred golden pennies on Rab,” Arthur said to the man when he finally reached the front of the crowd.

“That’s a fair amount,” the broker said as he took the money. “Confident?”

“As he should be.”

People moved to the side as Alyssa moved up to stand next to Arthur, a smile on her normally taciturn face. With one hand, she reached into a small bag and pulled out a handful of Golden Pennies of her own.

“Fifty on Rab. I know which of my knights to bet on.”

“As you say, Knight-Captain.” The broker smiled as he took the money and wrote something down on a notepad.

Behind them, people clamored to bet on Rab as well, and Alyssa shook her head. “Come, The Council has our own seats. Won’t you sit with us?”

“What about Hulvin?” Arthur asked.

Alyssa shrugged as they walked away from the blackboard and the people shouting out names and fights they wished to bet on. “He’s off drinking somewhere, no doubt. I doubt we’ll see much of him until tomorrow evening.”

“In that case, I’d love to.”

Arthur smiled as they walked through the crowd, with Augustus more than once needing to brush people to the side. Some turned to complain, but upon seeing Alyssa, anything they were about to say died on their tongues. As they approached a small seating area, Arthur noticed Cyrus and Kourtney wave at him.

For once, Kourtney was without her book, and flowers decorated her now-loose brown hair. Her smile was genuine as she gestured towards an empty seat.

“Arthur, it’s good to see you. Cyrus has told me about your desire to copy my tome.”

“If that’s ok,” he said while he slipped into the empty seat.

Alyssa sat next to him, while Augustus loomed over the four from behind, though none of them paid much attention to the giant rat mutant. Kourtney nodded, excitement entering her voice as she spoke.

“That would actually solve one of my bigger problems. Through the years, we’ve lost sections because of accidents and other issues. A pristine copy would be invaluable and give more people who wish to learn to scribe the chance. When can we get started?”

“As soon as you—”

A group of knights barging their way into the arena interrupted him. Among them was Hulvin, who stumbled slightly as he waved a sword in the air. Beside him, Arthur saw Alyssa tense and rise, but before she could stand all the way up, Hulvin started yelling.

“Knights! Citizens of the compound, head my call! I would like to issue a challenge!”

“What are you doing, you idiot?” Alyssa whispered as he continued waving his sword in the air.

All around them, the crowd murmured, and the other members of The Council looked nervous. Arthur could feel the man’s eyes boring into him, and he knew exactly where this was going. Even from this distance, the hatred was almost palpable.

“I see you, shopkeeper! You have brought mutants into our home, and from what I’ve heard, you plan on making more. You shall not bring more of your filth into this world! When we come for the new entrance to the pit, your mutants will be the first thing we destroy!”

All around him, his pack of knights cheered. Some of the crowd joined in, a fact that made Arthur look around him. Alyssa placed a hand on his shoulder as she leaned in. “This is hardly an official challenge. You don’t have to accept it.”

“I wasn’t planning—”

Once more, Hulvin cut him off with a sneer on his face. “And before you act like the coward you are, Arthur. Let me tell you this: I know of your deal with Cyrus, and I will have none of it. My people will touch no goods soiled by your hands.”

The ember fell into place, and his skin itched as he understood what the man was saying. Cyrus shifted in place, and when Arthur looked at him, the man shrugged. “If he carries out his threat, we may have to cut our deal off. There is no point in me buying metals I can do little with.”

“Another thing!” Hulvin called out even as Arthur stood from his chair, shoving his briefcase towards Augustus, who took it with a squeak. “No proxies. I will fight myself, and so shall you. What do you say!?”

Heat filled his throat as he looked at the man who stood in the center of the ring. The old drunk who dared to threaten his people, his business, and his hoard. His suit felt like it stuck to his skin from the seat, the fabric stretching with every movement, and his cheeks hurt from his smile.

“Hulvin!” He called as he moved into the ring. “You challenge me?”

“I do!” The knight said this with his sword wavering in his grasp.

“Then I would like to add my own terms.” Arthur didn’t know if that was an option, but he didn’t rightfully care. “If I win, you shall give me free rein over your craftsmen. They shall make what I need them to make with the materials sold to Cyrus. Plus, you shall never again threaten my employees as you have done today, nor shall you harm them.”

Hulvin sneered. “Is that all?”

“No,” Arthur said as he stepped fully into the ring.

The crowd was silent as he squared up against Hulvin, his back straight and his arm steady. While his opponent had the skill and knowledge of combat, it was obvious spite and booze propped him up at this point.

“Then what, boy?”

“A public apology, and you need to stop drinking so much.”

He’d added the last one to be cruel, but from the sounds of laughter and jeering from the crowd, it had support. Hulvin looked taken aback before he snarled and nodded his head. “It hardly matters what a future failure wants.”

“Then prove it.”

With that, the last of the knights left the ring, and Hulvin moved forward—the fight was on!