Champions of the Apocalypse by Michael G. Thomas Page A

with both hands out to her side.
    “You’re from Haven and haven’t heard of Thrax?”
    Synne and Jonas shook their heads to confirm it.
    “I shall have to speak with Galan on this,” he said with a laugh.
    “That won’t be easy, my father is dead!”
    “Dead you say? By the Raiders?” he asked with some degree of concern.
    Synne looked away, the pain of the recent experiences with the Raiders, the attack on her home and the death and enslavement of so many starting to take its toll. Jonas, noting her change in tone moved to interject.
    “We’ve been clearing the Raiders from our Northern border for the last four weeks. The Brotherhood and the League have been working on it for some time now. I don’t understand how so many Raiders could have made it past our forces and then worked their way through our lands and into the city,” explained Jonas.
    Synne turned back to Thrax.
    “Somebody must have betrayed us. There were scores of them inside the walls of Haven. My brother, my father, all the warriors fought but we couldn’t hold them off. I saw my father killed and my brother is either dead or a prisoner somewhere,” she said with a sigh.
    “It must be the Brotherhood, only they would be so treacherous. A long time ago, I fought alongside your father against the Brotherhood. There was one nasty old bastard called Lar. I bested him in the last Contest,” he said with pride.
    “Contest?” asked Synne, her interest suddenly raised.
    “Yes, the Contest. You do still have them don’t you?” he asked in surprise.
    “Of course, that is how the truce between the League and the Brotherhood is maintained. You fought, alongside our forces? That must have been almost twenty years ago,” she said in a tone that implied she was less than convinced.
    “It was the hardest contest the League had ever faced back then. You see, the Brotherhood has always been weak and divided but they were not stupid. They could match us in numbers but the best they ever won was a stalemate. The last Contest was different though. They actually persuaded a few members of the Guild to join them. Not even their groups knew of their treachery,” he said.
    Thrax stared out into valley below as he though on his old days of adventure of battle.
    “I’ve never heard this before. How could the League have ever won? That would have pitted twenty against ten?” asked Jonas with great interest.
    “Well, not quite, they didn’t all change sides. It was hard, let me say. Back then, I was a member of the Swordmasters Guild. We were nominally part of the League and that year we were called on to fight in the Contest. Only two of us lived from that battle. Just me, and that little weasel Gratus. I told your father back then I thought he had betrayed us, but according to Galan the weasel saved him at the last moment in the battle,” he said with a scowl.
    “Gratus, he was my father’s right hand man. Why did you not trust him?”
    “Instinct, my dear. I didn’t see him perform any act in the Contest that required him to cut or kill any members of the Brotherhood. I did find him with a blade near Galan but one of the Brotherhood fell on him and his blade. Galan always said I had it in for him but, there was always something in his eyes that told me otherwise. Galan and I argued for hours but in the end we went our separate ways. He was a good man, I am truly sorry to hear that he is dead,” said Thrax with an honesty that was sincere.
    “Thrax, my father should have listened to you. I spotted him forcing a knife into my father’s throat during the battle at Haven. He must have been waiting for years to strike.”
    “With your father dead that means the truce must be upheld with the old tradition of the Contest?” asked Thrax.
    Synne stood up and walked a few feet away to look down the mountain and into the valley. She could see for miles though the open plain was flat and barren, land of no use for grazing or farming.
    Jonas leaned over to