In that city with white houses and purple flowers hanging on the walls, on holidays, all went to the Arena, to celebrate Holy Days by bullfighting. The supreme effort of the true men, those who wanted to show their power and fearlessness, or the love of a woman or virgin of the town … Most times, young and men entering the arena, killed the bull, gained applause from the hysterical crowd, picking the love of the women or virgins, and gaining immortality moments.
That he wanted to do, too! He watched the girl’s blue eyes with blonde curls, saw their azure and careless brilliance, overshadowed by a detached smile, was looking for the key of her heart and didn’t find it…
This time he decided to enter the Arena in the last battle of the day, against the Untamed Bull, the most savage beast that puddle the Arena’s sand, black and angry, excited by the screams of the crowd. Fourteen young people killed in earlier clashes, he was the fifteenth who dare to face the Beast. He will defeat it and all city people will know for whom he did it, or he will die with her name on his lips … maybe even smile …
When the moment comes, the trumpets sounded sharply and the Untamed Bull was released in the pen with gray stone of the Arena. A ton of muscles and tendons hidden under the pitch black skin, were ready to kill, to crush. The horns which seemed forged brass, greased, shone above the bloody eyes. The hooves as cymbals knead the damp sand by the blood of the bulls that were killed in clashes that day. When He enters, the crowd stopped breathing. He was frail compared with the monster that was supposed to face, and the sword in his left hand seemed a poor feather to tickle the Beast. The Untamed Bull started to attack snorting, and the crowd set free one moan of fear. In the corner of his eye, He saw her somewhere in the middle lodges. She seemed to be tested by any emotion, and that made him become very tense. He manages hardly to guard against the attack of the angry monster. He lunged, however, gracefully, nicking thickly the black skin of his opponent. The fight was long and grueling, and he had to use his skills and imagination, inventing tricks on the spot, that had not been seen in the arena. Finally, the Untamed Bull tired, and he was able to fool it with a lunge to the left, twisting same time on the right leg, and sticking the sword blade to guard under the left shoulder of the monster. He had to beware when the beast collapsed, almost not hearing the crowd’s cheers. He cut the right ear of the Untamed Bull and stand up to give it to Her, as was customary for everyone to know for whom he risked his life. But, looking at the place where She had stood at the beginning of the fight, he saw an empty seat. The other hundreds of virgins were waiting hoping to be the one that will receive the offering, but their hopes are quickly collapse. With the Untamed Bull’s ear in one hand and the blood dripping sword in the other hand, he continues to look for Her, but he didn’t find her. A wave of darkness is spreading on his eyes, the ear escapes from his numb fingers, and he collapsed softly on the wet sand of the Arena. In the fall, as he clutching her sword in hand, like a scepter, its blade is breaking and a stub is sticking in the winner’s leg, above the knee, cutting his femoral artery. Last thing he saw was the shocked faces of the crowd that looked to him…
Translated by Nicolae Sfetcu from aMorale, by Marius Cilibia
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