Len stopped dead in her tracks. Balar? How the hell had he been roped into this? What the hell was even going on here?

"Good people," bellowed the Head with a smarm that made Len's skin crawl. "It has been made clear to me that I offered a challenge to this foreigner. I am a man of law and order and will gladly honor my duties as a ruler. Equally important to those laws is the adherence to the fact that I can pick any warrior I deem fit to fight in my stead. Today, I have chosen the very man who dared conspire with the enemies of our nation to seek our doom. Balar Hammerfist!"

The crowd roared their approval at his choice of champion. Relishing the irony of the display.

"Let it be known that, as with all other Challenges to the right to rule, this is a fight to the death! Should Balar fail to meet the highest standards of martial prowess and fail to secure victory for me, he will be put to death. More than that, all of his loved ones shall likewise be put to death this very night!"

"That's insane," Len yelled at him, but her fury at the unjustness of the situation was drowned out by the roar of a crowd eager at the prospect of seeing blood spilled.

"Likewise, this foreigner who dared to try and disrupt our way of life is putting HER life on the line. She has no chance of defeating the great Hammerfist, and thus is doomed. Even if she somehow manages to take his life, earning the blood of his wife and children at the same time, she will still face me in single combat! This Dark Elf will know the power of the Kelvach!"

Again the roars of approval soared through the pavilion. Len's mind raced, trying desperately to find a way out. There was none. Fuck.

"What's the plan, Balar?" She asked him. "All this just to kill me?"

"He has my family," Balar said simply. "You have to understand what that means."

"Yeah, he's got you over the barrel, I'll grant you, but you can't be so stupid as to think he lets you out of this alive."

"You know, Lenore, I don't think I ever told you the real reason I never faced a Challenge. Sure, there was the wealth, the trade agreements, and the general political capital that I've spent a lifetime building up. I rather enjoyed all that, and the idea that that was enough to guarantee my position in this society. That, at the end of the day there was more that I had to offer than the title I earned in the pits."

"Aw crap," Len muttered.

"Yeah," he said.

With exaggerated ritual, he drew himself up to his full height of just over six foot. Calmly, he walked over to one of the poles supporting the pavilion and, with one decisive motion, he punched straight through the four-inch circle of solid wood. There were enough of the other poles supporting the tent to keep the damage from causing any serious disruption, but the move itself had the intended effect of shocking the crowd and Len in equal measure. The hush that fell over the arena would've been much more satisfying if it hadn't been caused by someone who clearly intended to do her harm.

"We're really doing this, huh?" she asked rhetorically. "We're just gonna fight to the death for the sake of a jackass who's permanently harmed your people?"

"You think I want this?" Balar snapped. "I begged you to be careful. Tried everything in my power to convince you of the risks you were taking on. Desperately hoped that you'd show at least of a modicum of restraint. Instead, you got yourself thrown in prison long enough for him to devise this little stunt where I have no choice but to kill you? Why couldn't have you been more careful?"

There was real anguish in his eyes, and she felt for him. He'd put a lot on the line to get her into that dinner, had made it clear that there wouldn't be a do-over if things went south, and she'd charged forward on impulse pretty much from the first moment the feast had started. Odds were very good that she could have gone about things better. All the same…

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she snapped back at him. "You're the one that dragged me into this. Unlike some other folks, I haven't had years to prepare for this moment. I saw a play and I took it! And you know what? It worked! I am exactly where YOU wanted me to be. Only, it turns out that when the chips are down, you're not nearly as devoted to your cause as I am, so one of us has to kill the other, how rich is that?"

"Let me do it, Len," Cammie whispered over her shoulder. "It'll take no time at all, you'll have your victory, then I can do the same to that sneering asshole up there. You keep saying that the only reason for me to hold back is because it won't get you what you want. Guess what, now it will."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Cammie, put the bloodlust away. You don't get to butt in every time my life's in a bit of peril. Sit on the sidelines, wait, and watch. If I need you, I'll call for you, all right?"

The cherubic little monster pouted and bounded away, taking up a position on the edge of the arena to jeer menacingly at Balar, who obviously couldn't see her. Len sighed, turned her attention back to the trader, and tried to buy some more time. There was still one person she wasn't seeing from this little affair, and she hoped that her absence meant that they still had a chance.

"We can both get out of this, Balar. You just have to trust me a little longer."

"I trusted you this far, and look where it's gotten me, Lenore. I have too much to lose."

"Oh come off it, asshole," she yelled at him. "Too much to lose? How many have lost more than you ever could while you cowered, waiting for some ephemeral chance at fixing all this? All the while telling yourself that the compromises you've made were for the good of all, that if only there were another option, you'd take it? Guess what. You've got an option right now that puts your people on the path of survival. Yet, now that it's here, you're gonna cower AGAIN? How much do you have to make everyone else do the work for you before you get your own hands dirty?!"

"Get my hands dirty?! We're talking about the lives of my wife and children!"

"Enough," boomed the Head, putting an end to their discussion. "You will fight her now, Balar, or I will start killing your children one by one until I get to your wife... who was the one who betrayed you to me."

The shock on Balar's face was palpable. Len felt for him. She'd done her best to shield him from that particular tidbit of knowledge and had rather liked the idea of having it as an extra little bit to hold over Keris' head, but that chance was gone now, leaving only the unfortunate reality that Balar was charging at her to take out some of his pent-up frustrations on her before she could think up a strategy.

He was fast, almost frighteningly so. She'd always assumed that his slightly portly frame housed a physically meager soul who didn't spend much energy on his own fitness. She had clearly been mistaken in that. She supposed that a good amount of his activity came from being on the road so much, dealing with ruffians on the road, and just walking a lot probably did more to keep him in shape than she'd imagined. That wasn't actually the problem, though. The sharpness of his punches was downright terrifying. They were like cannon blasts ripping through the air between them. She was faster, and lighter on her feet besides, but the power of his punches made it clear that if she got hit by one of them, she was probably a goner.

There wasn't any semblance of the jovial man she was used to, no shrewd demeanor of a man looking to exploit a situation for his own financial benefit. This was the face of a man desperate to save his children and processing the fact that his wife had sold him out to the enemy he'd sworn to defeat. His face said that he thought he'd already lost everything and now he was just doing what little he could to salvage even a scrap of it.

Since talking was proving useless, Len devoted her energies to more pressing needs, like staying ahead of him. Each swing of his was a careful one, designed to destroy whatever it touched. She made it her utmost priority to not be one of those things touched by those fists and kept her attention on that task while praying desperately that she wasn't putting her hope in the wrong woman. She knew Taylor had gotten away; she'd seen her slipping the guards even as she was dragged off. Whether the assassin was willing to help further after the risks she'd already taken had proven so disastrous was anyone's guess, but Len had to hope.

That hope was severely tested as the battle dragged on. She was mostly able to stay ahead of Balar, but she was getting tired. She had to keep the fight close enough that the crowd remained interested, thus keeping the Head from doing anything drastic to shake up the match, to make Balar more desperate, or to just liven up the festivities with a little bloodshed. That meant making it look like Balar was getting a good hit in from time to time, even if it meant risking him ACTUALLY getting a good hit in. He was fighting to win regardless of what she might prefer. The fact that she was faking her way through the fight did seem clear to him and, rather than getting him to reciprocate a little, seemed only to piss him off more. He didn't say anything directly, but she could see it in his eyes that he was offended that she'd take the fight so lightly. She wasn't sure how much of his behavior was about proving to her that the risk he posed was serious, but the speed at which he threw those punches any time she allowed herself to be within range certainly picked up.

Finally, she'd had enough of the running and decided it was time to make a move of her own. The nice thing about dodging constantly is that it lends your opponents to the idea that it's all that you're going to do. He was so prepared to see any time she let him get close as another feint that he forgot that she knew a thing or two about combat herself. To add to the effect, she faked a slight stumble, letting her right knee sag almost imperceptibly as he closed in on her. There was a flash of triumph as he reared up to strike, but a moment later that triumph turned to confusion as she spun around the side of him. The swing that had been perfectly aimed to slam into her torso bit through the air, and he was positioned for an easy kick to the backside. The blow didn't do much real damage, barely having any force behind it, but it did throw him off balance as she brought her leg down, pivoted, and delivered a bone-crunching kick to his left elbow. He staggered back, favoring the wound and looking at her with a mixture of surprise and newfound respect. She offered him a smirk and a wink as he recovered his composure.