The Devil's Opera(136)

“Going to fight,” Hans replied.

“Why? You don’t need to do this.”

“Two reasons. First, fifty thousand is a lot of money. It would keep Ursula safe and provide for her for a long time.”

“Okay,” Simon replied. “I understand that. But is that enough of a reason to get yourself half-killed or worse when you could turn down the fight and do the providing yourself?”

“Reason two: Schardius ordered me to lose the fight.”

“What?” Simon couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“He knew this was coming. Think about what he said tonight.”

Simon thought back to earlier in the evening. What had the merchant said? But all things come to an end, don’t they? And true wisdom might lie in recognizing the end when it comes. “Oh.”

“I didn’t understand it until the big man came out,” Hans said. “Schardius wants me to lose. He’s going to bet against me and rake in money.”

“Are you going to lose?” Simon couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Hans gave a grim smile. “Not on purpose.” His chest swelled, and he slammed a fist against it. “I fight for me. I don’t take orders from anyone here. I won’t lose for anyone, especially the good master,” he snarled. “He’s used me for the last time. I want that money, and I want to rub Schardius’ face in the dirt. I’ve done too much for him. No more. No matter what happens, I will never work for him again.” He spat on the ground. “That for the old carrion crow.”

“What do you mean, he’s used you for the last time?”

Hans bent over to whisper, “The man who went missing? Who was found floating in the river? His name was Delt. I found him and brought him to Schardius that night. He was angry with Delt for some reason.” He swallowed. “I never saw Delt again.”

“Master Schardius killed a man?” Simon pulled away to look at Hans’ face. The boy was aghast.

“No, but I know he was there. I know what they did.” Hans swallowed again. “I haven’t slept well since then.”

Hans straightened up. Simon was stunned. Hans, his friend, had been a part of that? They stood in silence for long moments.

The crowd began moving back toward them. Hans headed toward the ring. Simon stirred followed, only to be pulled up by Hans’ hand on his jacket collar.

“You go sit with Gus.” He pointed to where the other fighter was standing, waving at them.

“What?” Simon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I always go with you.”

“Not this time.”

“But I’m your luck!” Simon played his major card.

“And you can be my luck from there.” Hans bent down and murmured, “You will be safer there. I want you out of the eye of Elting and Schardius.”

Simon didn’t have an argument for that. He watched as Hans picked up a scrap of towel and walked off to edge of the ring. For the first time in a long time he felt alone, even abandoned. It was stupid, he knew, but it hurt to watch Hans climb up on the ring apron without him.

Gus came up beside Simon. They looked at each other, and nodded. Simon thought Gus was no exchange for Hans, but he was a face that Simon knew and was therefore a comfort. They didn’t speak, and Gus didn’t try to put his arm around Simon’s shoulder or anything like that, but Simon was glad he was there anyway.

Herr Pierpoint had finished lecturing Elting and Recke, for the big man was following the up-timer to the other end of the ring. Recke took off his coat and shirt. He turned to lay them over the top rope, and gasps and mutters broke out in the crowd.

Simon felt his stomach churn. Recke’s back was a mass of scars. “Oh, that’s not good,” he heard Gus mutter.

“Why?” Simon asked in alarm.

“That man’s been flogged, not once but many times. That means he’s been in someone’s army. To be flogged that many times, he’s either stupid, wicked, or vicious. And no matter which it is, it means he’s dangerous.”

Simon looked toward his friend.

“Hans!” When he looked up, Simon pointed to Recke and shouted with urgency, “Wolf, Hans! Wolf!” Hans glanced at Recke, then back to Simon with a nod. Simon leaned back. He’d done all he could do.

Herr Pierpoint moved to the center of the ring with his microphone. “Good evening on behalf of TNT Productions.” His voice boomed out over the speakers. Simon had finally gotten used to them.

“There has been an unannounced change to our schedule. There will only be one fight tonight, for an unknown number of rounds.” He pointed toward Recke. “Fighting out of the green corner, the challenger in tonight’s main event comes from Hannover, where he is reputedly the toughest fighter in the city. Give it up for Elias Recke.”