Court of Fives
Page 9

A custodian collects my token and satchel with no more interest in me than she would have in a faded old tunic. She checks the numbered token against a ledger. “You’re in the first trial.”
My heartbeat quickens. I’m really going to do it. I have no trainer to wish me good fortune as I enter the ready cage, which is a lamplit chamber with a ladder at each corner.
I get my first look at the other three adversaries I’m running against. They are masked, of course. Since we’re entered in the Novice-level division, they must either be fledglings who have yet to win a trial or Novices trying to move up. You have to win ten Novice trials to move up to the next division, called Challenger. I want to win so badly. I want to prove to myself that if I truly had the opportunity I could run the Fives and succeed.
I look over my competition, trying to seem calmer than I really am, because really I am about to crawl out of my skin. I dig down for the other Jes, the cool, collected Jes who knows how to measure and make fast decisions with no margin for error, like my father on the battlefield.
The others have each already been handed a wide colored belt to mark their start position. They all happen to be male, but the stocky one wearing the red belt looks too muscle-bound to be flexible and the skinny one wearing the green belt is already sweating; that will make him slip. The one tying on the blue belt wears a fancy gold mask and a gold silk tunic far too expensive for a Novice, so that probably means he is from a palace stable where they can afford such a wasteful display. What matters to me is that he looks fit and calm; he’ll likely be my main competition.
The ready cage custodian hands me the last belt. It has the same brown color as my gear, so when I tie it around my waist it blends with my humble clothes. Brown means I start at the obstacle called Pillars. I smile, pleased by my good fortune. Pillars is a maze, and I’m adept at mazes.
I follow my custodian up one of the ladders. The crowd’s noise rumbles through the stone, sinking into my bones. This is really going to happen. Tears of excitement sting my eyes.
We walk through a dim tunnel that ends in a small chamber beneath a closed hatch. This is the start gate for Pillars. Yet another custodian stands here. This one is watchful, assessing my height and build, wondering how I’ll do. I rub chalk on my hands and on my leather shoes to absorb sweat. I open and close my hands, feeling every crease and callus.
The gate-custodian and my attendant custodian remain silent. Above us the crowd roars as the canvas is hauled back and today’s configurations revealed. Spectators chant along with the formulaic ceremony that opens every trial, the recitation of a set of verses that describes the court, the obstacles, the game itself. But I have already ceased hearing and seeing anything except what is right in front of my eyes. I am ready to run. I am ready to win.
Except that I can’t win.
I’ve always known I can’t win, because winning will bring disgrace on my father.
Too late I realize I should not be here. I should not be doing this. It isn’t worth the risk that someone will recognize me behind my mask.
Horns blare like knives in my ears. The crowd quiets to a surging mumble.
Deep in the undercourt the start bell rings, and the hatch opens.
All my doubts fall away. I forget everything except the promise of the ladder and the challenge that awaits me above. Heart racing, thoughts sharp as a spear, I climb.
The trial begins.
5
Imagine you are a magician and can see through the eyes of a crow flying above the City Fives Court. Below you lies the huge round stadium built of stone and wood. You see the tiers of seats and the shaded balcony boxes filled with people cheering and shouting. The Fives court in the center is divided into four quarters, each one of which is an obstacle. At their simplest they are easily described: Pillars is a maze, Rivers is water crossed via moving stepping stones, Traps is bridges and beams to balance along, and Trees is climbing posts. The first person to negotiate the four outer obstacles and then get through the fifth and center obstacle, called Rings, climbs the victory tower to claim the victor’s ribbon. To win you need to be strong, fast, smart, and flexible, and have excellent balance and agility.
Through the crow’s eyes you look down on a girl crouched on a raised wooden platform about three paces by three paces square. She is panting, catching her breath. Blood dries on her left palm where she scraped herself while climbing on Trees. She is grinning, every part of her body and spirit filled with elation.
That girl is me.
I have successfully made my way through Pillars, Rivers, Trees, and Traps. This platform is one of two entrance points for Rings. From the height I look around to see where the others are. The red-belted adversary is still stuck in the maze of Pillars. If you’re not smart enough to figure out the maze you shouldn’t be running.