Phantom: Chainfire Trilogy Part 2

Despite his rather goofy, lopsided grin, which he wore often and despite his circumstances, Johnrock had a quick wit and an analytical mind. He had come to like Richard because Richard was the only one who didn't assume he was stupid and didn't treat him as such. Johnrock was anything but stupid.

He had eventually decided that he'd been wrong about Richard's lack of bravery and had asked to be his right wingman in the Ja'La games. Wingman was a rather thankless position that exposed him to charges and bruises from the opponents. Johnrock saw the value in such a position because it allowed him to break the heads of men from the Order and he was cheered for doing so. Even though he was a big man, Johnrock was quick — a combination that made him a perfect man for Richard's right wing. He loved being close to Richard during play so he could see Richard vent his rage on the Ja'La field in a way that the other teams didn't expect. Together, the two of them had become a formidable pair on the field. It was never spoken, but they both knew that the other valued the chance to extract a little bit of revenge on those who had captured them.

The camp beyond the iron bars seemed to go on endlessly. Richard was sickened to see where they were — out on the Azrith Plain around the People's Palace. He didn't want to look anymore, and sat back down, leaning up against the other side of the box, resting a wrist over his knee as the wagon swayed and bucked through the endless horde.

He was relieved that the D'Haran forces were long gone, or they would have by now been annihilated for nothing. Instead, those men would by now have had enough time to make it down to the Old World. They were probably already laying waste to the place.

Richard hoped they stuck to the plan — fast and fierce attacks, keep separated and hit everywhere in the Old World, sparing nothing. He didn't want anyone in the Old World to feel safe. There needed to be consequences to the actions that flowed from their beliefs.

The men in the camp all watched the wagon train passing among them. It looked to be welcome, probably for the food it brought. Richard hoped they got their fill. Knowing the orders he had given, it was likely to be one of the last supply trains to leave the Old World. Without supplies, out on the Azrith Plain, with winter about to descend upon them, Jagang's army was going to find itself unexpectedly falling on hard times.

Nearly all the men they passed near to stared into Richard's cage, trying to get a glimpse of him. He expected that there were already rumors spreading through the camp about him and his Ja'La team. He had learned when they stopped to play teams at army posts along the way that their reputation preceded them. These men were fans of the game and looked forward to the tournaments, especially since there would no doubt be heightened interest because of the arrival of Richard's team — or Ruben's team, as it was informally known. The team really belonged to the commander with the snake face. There was little else to entertain these soldiers, other than the women captives. Richard tried not to think about that, because it only made him angry, and there was nothing he could do about it in his cage.

One day, after a particularly violent game that they had won handily, Johnrock admitted to being confused as to why Richard would have allowed himself to so easily be captured. Richard finally told him the truth of what happened. Johnrock at first didn't believe him. Richard told him to ask snake-face some time. He did and found that Richard was telling the truth. Johnrock greatly valued liberty and thought it was worth fighting for. That was when Johnrock asked to be Richard's right wingman.

Where Richard had once channeled his rage through the Sword of Truth, he now channeled it through the broc and the play of the Ja'La game. Even his own team, as much as they liked him leading them, to a degree feared him. Except Johnrock. Johnrock didn't fear Richard. He shared Richard's way of playing — as if the game were life-or-death.

For some of their opponents made up of Imperial Order troops who thought too much of themselves, it had been. It was not at all unusual for players, especially opponents of Richard's team, to be seriously hurt, or even die during a match. One of the men on Richard's team had died during a game. He'd been hit in the head with the heavy broc when he wasn't looking. It snapped his neck.

Richard remembered walking the streets of Aydindril with Kahlan, watching children play Ja'La. He had given out official balls if they would trade in their heavy brocs for the lighter ones Richard had had made up. He didn't want them getting hurt just to play a game. Now all those children had fled Aydindril.

"This looks like a bad place for us to be, Ruben," Johnrock said in a quiet voice as he watched the camp roll past their little window. He sounded uncharacteristically gloomy. "A very bad place for us to be slaves."