Authors: James Wolf
Taem smiled at his friend’s ability to inspire.
With this decided, Forgrun motioned for the team to suit up. Taem felt worried when he looked at the amount of padding that was sewn into his blue uniform. The elbows, forearms, shoulders, torso and knees were all covered by cushioned pads. There was even a padded helmet to put on. Taem wondered anxiously about what kind of ordeal needed this level of protection. He was also surprised at how quickly they had fashioned a padded suit for his smaller frame.
Forgrun turned to Taem and Ragad, ‘Ye first minute do be a mad an’ senseless free for all!’ Forgrun beamed, and Taem knew his Rhungar friend was really going to enjoy this. ‘As both teams do scrap fer ye three shields in centre. Once these be claimed, players do adopt their positions an’ set ter stealin’ opponent’s shields – whilst be protectin’ our own, o’ course.’
As Taem’s teammates began psyching themselves up by hitting each other, he had no idea what was about to happen. But given the physicality of the preliminary challenges, Taem knew he was in for a rough ride. All too soon, a two-minute warning came and the players made their final preparations for a battle, of sorts.
The Ironstone team jogged out into the arena, and headed to the blue end of the Gaunt Ruck pitch. Taem had not thought it possible, but the coliseum was more full now than it had been during the morning, with more banners draped along walls, and countless flags being waved. Taem trembled with excitement as he loped onto the pitch. The roar of the crowd was so loud he could barely hear the instructions Forgrun was shouting.
Seeing thousands of Rhungars watching made Taem feel as light and as powerless as air. But his footfalls felt heavier than the stomp of a Dhurran horse. He tried to ignore the queasiness in his stomach, by concentrating on breathing deep and slow. Was he about to make a fool of himself? He was not worried about getting hurt, looking stupid was what bothered him. Taem’s whole body tingled as a shudder of exhilaration coursed through him. He looked up to his companions in the Lord’s booth. He smiled and waved to them, showing them he was calm, although inside he was quaking.
Taem lined up in front of the blue treasury, alongside his padded-up fellows of the blue Ironstone team. His Rhungar teammates slapped him on the back. Taem took in a deep breath and gulped, in an attempt to settle his stomach.
‘
Ironstone! Ironstone
!’
The crowd chanted over and over again.
Taem’s heart jolted in time with the chant. He saw the swirling movement of the crowd, and watched the opposing team smashing their chests into each other. Taem was by far the smallest player on the pitch, even though he was the second tallest. But he always did like a challenge. He knew he would have to try and run round the other team, not through them. Taem had been the fastest runner back in the village growing up, and that gave him some comfort. Speed was the only way he could survive this. Taem prayed that would be enough.
The giant Gaunt Ruck bell rang out. Taem’s attention was on the game. Fear was forgotten, as a pack of howling Rhungars charged towards him. Taem ignored the coliseum’s raging crowd, as he and his team-mates sprinted toward the centre of the pitch, on a collision course with the Claymore Rhungars.
Both teams reached the middle at full pelt, and the Rhungars did not even slow down as they slammed into each other. Rhungar bodies went flying as Taem dodged aside and through the Claymores’ furious charge. The Rhungars on both teams launched themselves into the fray without any regard for safety, shoulder charging each other with juddering force. They growled and roared as they thumped into one another, and tried to up end each other. Taem saw fists flying in everywhere. He knew he had to move fast, as snarling Claymores swirled all around him.
A handful of Rhungars were already sprawled on the ground, now only semi-conscious. The conflict centred over the three shields: flat, firm discs, two hand spans across, covered in quartered red and blue felt, and stuffed with cloth. Taem slipped between the fighting Rhungars, eluding their strong grasping arms.
Forgrun had wrestled the first shield free, and was heading back to the blue treasury with the spoils. Ironstone Rhungars smashed into the Claymores. One red Rhungar hung around Ragad’s neck, as another worked on tripping his legs. Taem glanced around, before scooping down to pick up a free shield. Taem caught a flash of red out the corner of his eye. It was all happening in terrible slow motion. But Taem knew he was too committed to dodge out the way. Taem stood back up, and tried to brace himself. But he was smashed by a thundering shoulder charge. Taem flew. Hit clean off his feet. He saw the ground rushing towards his eyes, and struggled to get his hands up. His head smacked into the floor. Taem’s mind dazed as he gazed up, bleary eyed, to his attacker.
‘Welcome ter Gaunt Ruck,’ the Claymore Rhungar sneered, down through his great beard, as he picked up the shield Taem had been holding, and sprinted off with it back to the red treasury.
Taem stumbled up to his feet and shook himself off. All the other players had left the centre and were heading back to their treasuries to regroup, or were scampering away to one of the tackle posts if they had been knocked off their feet.
Taem returned to the blue treasury, via a tackle post, and Forgrun was bellowing orders:
‘Pendran, yhee take up thy catcher’s role outside their treasury. Ragad, don’ be afrai’ ter throw thy weight around, yhee see what they just done ter Taem…’ Forgrun’s voice trailed out of earshot as Taem got to the blue treasury.
‘Yhee be all right, lad?’ Harnan asked. The mighty Rhungar had taken up his keeper position, defending the treasury.
‘Yes,’ Taem said stoically.
Harnan smiled at the man’s courage, ‘I be seein’ thy speed, lad. Don’ try an’ compete with brute force, play ter thy strengths.’ Harnan patted Taem on the shoulder.
Heading back to the centre, evading the incoming Claymore raiders, Taem saw Ragad bowl over one of the Claymores. Forgrun hurled another to the ground, stealing the shield the red player had just picked up. Sturad, the Claymore captain, had just tackled an Ironstone Rhungar who had stolen a shield from the red treasury, latching onto the thieving raider’s legs and pulling him down. The stewards sent the downed blue Rhungar scurrying off to a tackle post. Seeing Sturad take up the dropped shield, the thrill of the chase overcame Taem’s hazy head and he leapt after the Claymore Rhungar.
Taem urged his legs to move faster as he gained on the fleeing Claymore. He caught Sturad just outside the red treasury and pounced like a lion on the Rhungar’s back, sending them both tumbling to the floor. With a look of incredulity on his face, Sturad wasted no time in heading to the nearest tackle post, leaving Taem to pick up the shield and run wide round the arena floor, avoiding any red tabards, to store the shield in the blue treasury. There were three shields in there now.
‘Well done, Lad!’ Harnan bellowed, as he jumped forward and dropped his shoulder to block red Rhungars trying to raid the blue treasury. Ragad picked one of the Claymores up and dumped him to the ground, sending the Rhungar dashing off to a tackle post with a sour grimace on his face. Leaving the keepers to their jobs, Taem headed back out to the main field.
Claymore mounted a serious assault on the Ironstone treasury, coming away with two shields, whilst blue raiders and roamers had turned their attentions to the red treasury. But Forgrun and two other Ironstones were dispatched with thumping hits from the Claymore defence. Their attack blunted, the blue Ironstones were sent scurrying off to a tackle post, once they had picked themselves off the floor.
This was the most exhilarating game Taem had ever played – even better than Maul! There was so much going on all over the pitch, and you had to keep your wits about you and your eyes open all the time. The reds were everywhere! Surrounding Taem, but he managed to elude them by turning, changing direction and accelerating away.
A bone-crunching tackle went flying in, as the red catcher intercepted a blue Rhungar running towards home with a pilfered shield. The Claymore’s shoulder hit the Ironstone’s waist so hard that the blue Rhungar was bent in half, and knocked clean off his feet. But Harnan was on hand to pick up the dropped shield and deposit it in the blue treasury. Another shield outside the red goal zone changed hands three times before it was returned to the safety of the red treasury.
Taem saw the defenders inside the red tackle zone open up and he darted forward on a daring run. Stepping this way and that, he cut through two red players. Taem looked all around. He slowed to steal a shield from the red treasury, jumping aside as one of the red keepers tried to mash him between two great fists, and accelerated away from the Claymore defenders. Red catchers spread over the pitch to ensnare him. He knew he could side-step faster than them. Taem just had to wait until they were committed, not make his move until the last moment. He criss-crossed so many times that he muddled the first red catcher into tripping over his own feet, and dodged through and around the other two. There was a huge roar from the crowd as Taem put the shield in the blue treasury. Taem realised the Rhungars were all running out of puff. It was time for him to try and up his game.
Harnan and Ragad were keeping up a solid defence of the blue treasury, putting in monstrous hits on the invaders, with only a few red runners getting through. Even so, shields seemed to be changing hands with a frenzied frequency. In the middle of the coliseum, Forgrun and Sturad had both grabbed the same free shield at the same time, and were now engaged in a ferocious fistfight. The stewards arrived and pulled them apart, sending them both off the pitch to separate tackle posts.
Taem launched a second ranging run and raided the red treasury – to which the crowd again screamed their approval. But Taem realised there were many Claymores eyes glaring at him. They had had enough of his looping runs, and were going to knock the wind out of him.
Three Claymore Rhungars encircled Taem, all grasping to get a hold of him. Taem dodged aside the first. The second, Taem managed to leap over his swinging arm. The third Claymore hit Taem square in the chest with his hefty Rhungari shoulder. Taem felt the air sucked from his chest as he was bent double, lifted clean off the ground and smashed to the floor.
He could not breathe!
Taem panicked as he wheezed for air, clutching at the pain shooting over his chest.
Forgrun roared a battle cry, when he saw what the Claymores had done to his friend. He charged over Taem’s body into the fray, fists flailing. The furious Ironstone clobbered down two of the Claymores with mighty haymaker punches. Other Ironstones came flying in behind their captain. More Claymores arrived, then Ragad and Harnan joined the brawl, now every player on the pitch was involved in the all-mighty scrap. The bellowing Rhungars exchanged vicious punches and elbows. Within moments, every one of them had dark bruises on their belligerent faces. The team-mates backed each other up to the hilt. The Gaunt Ruck bell rang out time and again across the arena, as stewards piled in to separate the teams, whilst the crowd cheered every punch and wild swing. Finally, some order was restored by the gamesmaster.
Looking up at the giant sand timer beside the Lord’s booth, Taem saw there were thirteen minutes gone and seven remaining, as he wearily got back up onto his feet. Play restarted and the teams were off again. After the rough treatment he had received, Taem was determined to relieve the Claymores of more shields. Cutting back through the red defence, he did not even slow down as he scooped another shield from the Claymore treasury. He realised the Rhungars were getting even slower, as the game wore them down.
Taem chased after two red raiders who had each just thieved a shield from the Ironstone treasury. The thrill of the hunt surged through Taem. With his light, ranging strides Taem loped after the fleeing red Rhungars and leapt, taking down the first Claymore in a diving tackle. Taem jumped up. He hurtled after the second fleeing Rhungar and sprung on him, as a hunting hawk takes down its prey. A great roar rose up from the crowd at Taem’s athletic display. Both red players were sent traipsing back to their tackle post, muttering and grimacing at Taem.
‘Be held back!’ Forgrun roared to the two blue roamers. ‘Take him!’ Forgrun boomed, sending one forward, as he held himself in reserve to sweep up any red players that got through. ‘Yhee be takin’ ye other!’ The Ironstone captain yelled over the cheers of the crowd. One of the blue roamers thudded home a thumping hit, upending a Claymore. The other blue roamer went flying off the wrong way as he missed his tackle, but Forgrun was right there to clean up, smashing the red raider to the floor.
‘Follow me!’ Forgrun bellowed, now the Claymore ranks had been thinned. ‘Raid! Yhee do take left! Yhee do take right!’
Taem surged forward. He swooped into the red treasury, side-stepped through the defence and swiped a shield, but was confronted by Sturad on the way back to the blue treasury. Taem feinted one way then the other, and bolted back the other way again. Sturad stumbled. Taem was sure he was through and round the Claymore captain. But as he passed Sturad, the Claymore dived after him, catching Taem’s heel with his lunging hand. Sturad tapped Taem’s foot enough, to send the man off balance and tumbling to the floor. It was a skilful tackle.
Ragad was a wall as solid as stone that blocked the blue treasury. Taem shuddered as a charging Claymore was upended by the Northman’s muscular frame. As the red raider was tossed high up into the air, tumbling over and round for what seemed to be an eternity, the bronze Gaunt Ruck bell rang out.
The crowd screamed and cheered their appreciation. Stewards rushed to the treasuries. The steward at Claymore’s red treasury held up two fingers; the steward at Ironstone’s, three. The blue team raised their arms, howling in victory as they hurried to bear-hug and high-slap their Ironstone team mates. The red Claymore players slumped in despondency, muttering to themselves as they stared at the floor, but began to applaud the winners.
The Ironstone team walked a lap of the arena to appease the crowd – who whooped and cheered, and downed whole tankards of ale.
Chanting “
Gaunt Ruck!
Gaunt Ruck! Gaunt Ruck!
”
Or, “
Ironstone!
Ironstone! Ironstone!
”
Taem was amazed by the passion of the Rhungar crowd’s support. The whole coliseum was a sea of jovial faces, all bellowing and bringing their fists together to make the sign of Gromm. Taem imagined that if this screaming Rhungar throng were to charge from the citadel now, they would be able to take on the Krun horde – even if it was five times their number – and win.