IX. Arena
So Santerna’s goons dragged Mayhew, still bound and also hooded again, to the bowels of the Arena, where the fighters were prepared for their moment of glory.
“Not a volunteer, I take it?” a voice, male, low, laconic asked.
“Nope. The boss wants him to fight.”
“You are aware that all except judicial fights are volunteer only,” the voice said, “So is this a judicial fight?”
“It is now,” one of Santerna’s goons said. And though Mayhew was still hooded and couldn’t see, he was nonetheless certain that there was money being exchanged at this very moment.
“All right then, a judicial fight it is. So let’s get him prepared. Is he the sort of make trouble?”
“The boss said he’s dangerous,” the goon replied.
“Dangerous, huh? Well, we’ll make sure to keep him secured during the prep
