Chapter 11 – The Positive Side of Misfortune

Gladiatorial combat is the foremost spectator sport in Kraylin. Over the years, it has developed into an entity possessing a complicated set of rules of how it is arranged and conducted. As standard practice, the fights can only occur on the last day of each week, they must begin at dawn, and they will finished within three hours after high noon at which time the jousting lists begin if on the docket. In Kraylin, these fights are referred to as ‘Pit Fights’ regardless of the actual arena used.

This strict observance to the times is largely for the local populace as they plan their days. With every fight following the same formula, even the illiterate know and understand when to show up for the fights.

The rules of pit fighting have evolved to the point where fourteen forms of combat now exist. The first and most common is the Fight of Equals. This is when equal numbers face off against each other and are evenly matched with weapons. Most fights are one on one and rarely more than four on four.

The second is the Fight of History. This is a reenactment of a historical event involving massive amounts of bloodshed as can be arranged. Fights of History tend to be theatrical in nature and usually have accompanying music played by local bands.

Fight of History relates strongly to the third type, the Fight of Massacre. The same idea, except the historical event is one heavily weighted to one side winning. The losing usually consists of condemned criminals and the indebted attempting to pay off family debts. The local Judges generally provided the ‘actors’ for this fight.

Other forms of combat include Fight of the Beast, Flight of Prey, Gauntlet for Freedom, Fight to Survive, Fight of the Last Standing, and the ever popular Race of the Damned.

The final form is the Carnage Match. The Carnage Match’s sole purpose is to take a group of able-bodied warriors, equip them with sub-par weapons, and through a series of three unfair events, slowly and spectacularly kill them all off. The cost for a Carnage Match is the greatest, as the standard number making up the losing side is thirty, and no matter how a Pit Lord works it, thirty able-bodied warriors costs a considerable sum of money. Despite the popularity of a Carnage Match among the masses, a Pit Lord will seldom hold more than one such match a year.- from “The Broken Land” by Torim Rae, traveler of worlds

Corvain continued to dig with his fingernail at the spot where the ink had soaked into his desk the preceding night. Already, a small channel was worked in the grain where he had worn the lacquer away. He vaguely listened to the daily reports from his factor and two managers assembled in the room. Corvain was more concerned with his estate’s lack of a master mage capable which could the spells required to mend his desk than with the business affairs of the day. All three remaining mages in his employ were not up to the task, saying that while spells which permanently alter substance were only minimally challenging, to cast them with the artisan’s skill required to repair Corvain’s desk was beyond their abilities. All of them had basically turned up their noses at such a menial task, as if it were beneath them in order to cover up their inadequacies. One of them had boldly suggested hiring a woodsmith to charm the wood back to perfection. While reasonable, Corvain wondered what use the mage really was to him and why he was paying him.

And this stain in his desk was really what was on Corvain’s mind as he absently nodded to each boring report as it was delivered, only managing a pretense of being interested. Truth be told, he was irate with the type of anger that hid beneath the surface of indifference just looking for a good outlet. The anger had been building all day and now each new piece of discomforting news was an added tiny grain of sand coming ever closer to pushing the avalanche down the mountain.

“Overall, the cost was quite minimal this time out. I managed to obtain eighteen slaves today at normal to below normal costs. We are around twelve percent ahead of budget for the week, even with convict costs. The prisoners I obtained were a slightly different matter. Seems that the latest foray into Constatlas met with some problems. I only managed to obtain three prisoners worth anything today, bringing my total to fifteen for the week. And those three came at double normal costs, however, I believe their viciousness and ruthlessness will more than pay off.” The reports droned on. After a few more rambling stats, Edol, a tall and lanky man, finally wrapped up his reports. As he shuffled his papers back into a single stack, he reached up and moved aside the mop of wild black hair covering half of his narrow face. Even his appearance was annoying Corvain.

Edol closed his journals and looked up to watch Corvain, awaiting his response. Done reading, he took off his gold-rimmed glasses set with tiny diamonds and put them in the pocket at his chest. Few could afford glasses, and those that could usually had the necessary funds to pay for the healings required to make glasses unnecessary. Edol insisted on wearing them as a status symbol. He had it in his thinking that they were a symbol of his profession as a bookkeeper and accountant.

Corvain looked out his window overlooking the bay and considered the report his chief accountant had just given. Which of those is my new ship, I wonder if I can even see it from here? “That is good, we are ahead of budget, but I will need to increase the number of slaves I get. At least for the next few weeks. With the carnage match fighters I will be providing Carnath, I need an extra twenty, minimum. Twenty-five to be safe. No prisoners either, this is his fight and his profits, so I only want to give him basic fodder. Make em’ healthy males, nothing more.” Corvain looked back to Edol, one of the few men Corvain trusted, for Edol served money and nothing more. Though Edol worked as factor obtaining fighters for several masters besides being Corvain’s accountant, his services always went to the highest bidder. More to the point, Corvain trusted Edol’s love of money more than he trusted the man. With Edol, Corvain got what he paid for, and he tried to make sure Edol was paid a higher commission for his acquisitions than any of Edol’s other employers.

The meeting continued on with Danarli speaking next on various agricultural interests pertaining to Corvain’s estate. Corvain, again only marginally listening as the man spoke, looked up toward Edol from the report Danarli had just handed him. Danarli, noticing Corvain’s change of focus, quieted. All of his people were used to Corvain suddenly switching conversations and topics right in the middle as new ideas occurred to him.

“Actually, I do have a special request. Though we will be on Carnath’s estates, it will be known that the carnage fight warriors will be provided by me. I want to you round up the nastiest, vilest, meanest women ever spawned from Constatlas. Having females getting slaughtered will be a nice treat, and it will appear to be a good gesture from me on my part for my contribution to the carnage match. Can you get, say, five women from the island?” Corvain asked.

Constatlas was the prison island for all of Kraylin. Many crimes called for execution on the spot, but at times, it was deemed prudent to let the criminals live, and all criminals gifted, or cursed as many considered it, with a life sentence were sent to Constatlas. The island sat in the middle of the fast-moving Rhea river as it poured into the sea. Once sentenced to the island, few survived unless they joined one of the many prison gangs of the islands, usually through brutal and harsh initiations. No guards existed to keep the prisoners on the island. Only those with friends either brave enough or powerful enough to form a rescue ever truly escaped. The strong and tumultuous undertow from the current kept the prisoners from reaching either shore of the river.

It was the nasty, the mean, and the vile who managed to survive more than a few months on the island. Certain merchants made their living by forming raiding parties just to collect the criminals who had been hardened by the rigors of the isle. Conducting secret and illegal raids, they then sold those they captured to the highest bidder, usually masters of various gladiatorial schools. These criminals almost always died quickly and violently in pitched battles, fighting, clawing, and scratching till their last breath, never fighting fair or honorably. Anyone convicted and sent to the isle bore a branded ‘x’ either on their cheek or their shoulder. Anyone found with the brand was automatically assumed to have escaped and given a painful death, unless of course, they were a fighter in one of the pits, in which it was understood death would take them quickly anyway.

Corvain mischievously smiled at his cleverness. Women fighters from the island always made interesting sport, and it was considered a treat to offer them up due to the high cost incurred in getting them. Women didn’t survive long on the isle and their scarcity made their value almost prohibitive. For Corvain to offer such a prize to the games of Carnath would be a definite insult to Carnath’s honor, outdoing him in his own home. A very expensive sneer, but Corvain could afford it now. Not one to normally splurge recent riches, Corvain would gladly do this to earn the wrath of Carnath. And it would be a definite slight toward Judge Slodan who expected Corvain to suffer financially from this event.

All four of his factors present did their best to hide their disapproval. Edol only showed his by raising one eyebrow. “As you wish, Corvain. Normally I don’t question the business decisions of my employers, but this once I feel inclined. You do know the exorbitant cost in what you ask? Most certainly you do. There are none available now, which means that I have less than two days to find someone to get an expedition together to do this. It may be nearly impossible.”

The other three factors nodded in agreement. “I will give a ten percent bonus to the one of you who comes through first, consider that incentive enough,” Corvain added. “I want this done. Now, what other business do you have for me.” Danarli didn’t speak up, taking the interruption and now dismissal of his summary as a sign that Corvain truly wasn’t interested today.

One of the other factors, Bronolty, piped in. “I believe that your gambling revenues will be hurt substantially, by forty percent or so, with trying to move our bookies and money changers outside of Carnath’s estates.”

The meeting continued on for about another thirty minutes, with all the minutia being discussed in preparation for this weekend’s games. Once done the factors left, and Edol along with Corvain’s other money managers, those actually on his payroll, talked for another ten minutes and they left too. Thinking himself done, Corvain started to stand up to prepare for his day’s retirement when Lilith quietly glided in, stepping aside as the last manager exited the room then coming to stand in front of the desk, glaring at Corvain with a rather unhappy look.

Sighing, Corvain sat back in his chair. “I know that look. What now?”

“It’s this new guy. Nash. He is going to be trouble. He, well, he is just not normal.” She stammered, not used to being flustered for words. How was she to explain that Nash was unusually aware, able to take in and survey his surroundings with a single glance? That is, it wasn’t his battle prowess or strength which worried her as much as his ability to hide his thoughts and hide his interest in what was going on. As a member of the Yinkida, the premier bodyguard organization of Arisilon, she was trained specifically to do these tasks. One of the hardest sought skills of a Yinkida was to do the exactly what Nash had done, study everything in the most nonchalant manner possible while doing it quickly. It was that skill which separated a successful bodyguard from a failed bodyguard. And then of course, the opposite skill, detect that detached awareness in others.

The ability to detect the ambush almost instantly was not something unlearned, at least not in humans. His only tell, his weakness, was the speed at which he had done it. That was what bothered her. If he had wanted to, Lilith was certain that Nash could observe everything at a normal viewing speed while acting totally unaware, no one guessing as to what he was truly paying attention to or was actually the center of his attention.

Lilith was trained to do this and did it without thought, but she was also trained to detect what everyone was paying attention to. She had to know who the assassin was and who his mark was if she was to protect her client. Nash had totally fooled her on this as well. She had missed the fact at first that he was even paying attention, and still wasn’t sure just what was going on with him or what he was looking for. But Lilith had little doubt that at some point or another, Nash had been trained as either an assassin, a spy, or possibly something similar to her Yinkida training. She had never heard of another such organization but that didn’t mean it couldn’t exist.

Her problem now was how to express this in a way Corvain might understand. “Let me restart. He is much more than he seems, and while I doubt, considering his origins, an immediate threat to you, he might very well become one in the near future.”

“Surely you are joking. Just what sort of threat do you perceive him to be?”

“I think he has been trained as I. I just saw him fight the initiation fight all the new untested gladiators first go through to prove themselves. This time it was Bok who started it. But where any sane man would normally back down from Bok to fight another, and with good reason, Nash actually encouraged it and taunted him to force the fight.”

Corvain exploded, standing up and slamming both palms down on his desk. “What - they let Bok fight against one of my human gladiators. They know better than this. If Nash has been permanently damaged I will strip their pay for a month. And I want Bok punished severely for this because he has been warned before on this. He is a valuable asset, but not valuable if he kills my other warriors. What is Nash’s condition?”

After initially stepping back, and thrown off a little by Corvain’s sudden outburst, Lilith, out of spite, decided to play along a bit, but just by a little. “The battle ensued, and Bok nailed Nash in the jaw with a full swing from his staff, sending Nash flying about fifteen feet, is how it went.”

Corvain glared. He had paid quite a bit to get Nash healed just this morning. He started calculating if it would be worth it, considering everything that had happened since this morning to pay for another healing or just let Nash survive, or die, with whatever injury he had incurred.

“Aaaaaand?” Corvain asked slowly. Lilith was holding something back.

“Well, let me see. He stood up, ran up to Bok, took his staff away from him and preceded to kick his ass with it. Didn’t seem hurt at all. I honestly can’t tell you if Bok is alive right now or not?” She shrugged while delivering the last part of her statement.

Corvain started to talk, the paused, too stunned to really speak. This was news indeed. He saw Lilith start to speak and again, but raised his hand motioning her to remain quiet till he spoke himself. She folded her hands behind her back, slightly leaning back on the balls of her feet almost smiling at his confusion.

“Truthfully, I agree that we should at least be mildly concerned with this. But I am rather overjoyed. Think of it. If I have a warrior that can do this, it might be worth a lot till people become wise to him. If I can get him in a pitched match, I might have a chance to reap a fortune. Quickly, go and get Bassil, I need him to find the full limits of his abilities.”

“Please sir, this is not a minor issue,” Lilith insisted.

“Very true, this could be some of the best news of the day. Keep an eye on him, Lilith, but let's not get so suspicious we ruin a good deal. I trust your instincts, I really do.”

“If you trust my instincts, if you ever trusted my instincts, do so now, Corvain. This could be bad. You are much better off without him on our estate. Please, sir. Please - listen to my judgment this once. As your bodyguard, I suggest you tread carefully where Nash is concerned. Kill him, or in the least, turn him out. Use him in the carnage match this weekend, just get rid of him.”

“Enough - this discussion is ended, I have made my decision,” growled Corvain, his voice starting to rise.

“But Corvain, I insist . . .” Lilith started to protest.

“You will insist nothing if you wish to remain in my employ,” Corvain spoke slowly and angrily, but then modified his speech to a modicum of civility and spoke passively to try and make his point. “This is my decision and mine alone. I am the master here, please respect me like you have always done before.”

“Yes sir. It will be as you will. Shall I go and get Bassil now?”

“Hold a second. I want you to look at this list and tell me what you think.” Reaching into one of his desk drawers, he pulled out the list Arthyon had given him and handed it to Lilith.

Taking the list, she opened it up, noting the broken seal of red wax which had held it closed. The seal was not one she recognized, but she did know the general theme of the seal. “Well, first off, are you aware that this seal is of a Borez noble family with close ties to the royal line?”

“No, Actually I didn’t know this. However, my own sources lead me to believe that this may be a false lead. I am more concerned with what you know of the names listed.” Corvain was impressed yet again with Lilith and silently wondered about his bodyguards hidden history that she would recognize the seal.

Opening the envelope, she looked down the list. It had thirty-two names listed. Glancing down the list, she recognized almost all of them and started thinking about what they meant. “Well, they are all powerful figures. I recognize all but three of these names.” After some more thought, she looked up. “I also see a strong connection. Not sure on all of these, I need to investigate, but at least twenty or so of these have political connections in Brynthia. At least two of these are aliases used by Brynthian senators when visiting Kraylin to feed their various vices.”

Stunned was too mild a word for Corvain now. He already knew that most of the twenty-three names he recognized were politically connected with Brynthia, most of them visiting and not actual residents of Kraylin. Lilith recognizing six more names than him was not really cause for concern, as it was her job, but if she also knew that two of them were Brynthian senators it spoke of a whole other level of knowledge she had access to. If true, the senators would have been taking painstaking measures their identities secret, and Lilith had just casually blurted it out as if it were common knowledge. Not for the first time, Corvain more than wondered, but was not worried, about her true history and if she might not actually be a threat herself someday. Maybe I ought to heed her warnings about Nash after all.

Lilith had been in his employ for seven years now, five as his head bodyguard. He trusted her more than just about anyone, but a devious mind like Corvain never completely trusted anyone. “Do you know how much you knowing this scares me?” Corvain asked calmly.

Lilith, still a little jilted at being told to drop the subject, smiled in spite of the fact of realizing she might have let a little too much slip. “I don’t personally know this. I got it from a visiting dignitary I was roughing up a few years back. He seemed to think it was important enough for me to spare his life. It wasn’t, unfortunately, as I never thought it important or useful knowledge till just now,” she lied.

The truth was far simpler. She knew from experience, having personally seen them on the Senate Floor during the course of her duties and then years later running into them and their entourages in the streets of Kraylin. “I can look into these names further. I wouldn’t be surprised if this time of year most if not all of them are in Kraylin somewhere.”

“Yes please do so,” Corvain answered.

Having quickly memorized the list, a talent she had trained hard to learn, Lilith set the list back on the desk. “Will do. I will also look into that seal more. It does intrigue me a little. Something about it is just below the surface of my thoughts, a foreboding thought it would seem. Just can’t think of it at the moment. It would help if I knew more of your ‘other sources’ you speak of so cryptically. I understand how you need to keep things from me, playing all your associates against one another, but this time it really would help if you reconsidered.” All she received was a blank stare. Giving up. “Anything else?”

“Please go and get Bassil, if you would?” Corvain said. Without hesitation, Lilith turned and stoically walked out. Corvain thought he detected a hint of moping to her gait but wasn’t certain.

Still, he smiled. Lilith had said something which intrigued him. It had been three years since the stooges of a carnage match had won against odds so stacked it was ridiculous. If Nash could survive so easily against Bok, might he possibly lead the fight in a carnage match, at least enough to survive the first two rounds. If not and he died, Lilith would be happy cause he’d be dead, but oh, what if he could?

Corvain was not totally obtuse to Lilith’s warnings. He just wanted some time to consider, and while they had spoken of the Arthyon’s list, a glaring possibility had occurred to him. What if Kern had failed in his casting and Arthyon had planted Nash. That would simply mean that Arthyon’s mind scan of Nash was simply for Corvain’s benefit, not the real thing.

While waiting for Bassil to appear, his daydream left a smile on his face of how fun it would be to use Nash in the carnage match. Nash would more than likely die. But he might also make him some ridiculous amounts of money as he progressed through the three levels of the match. And as a bonus, his death would ease Lilith’s worrying while foiling Arthyon’s despicable double dealings.

* * *

Bassil arrived, almost out of breath, misconstruing the venom in Lilith’s voice to mean he needed to act with the utmost haste and not realizing it stemmed from her anger at having her objections about Nash quenched.

Rushing into the room, Bassil took a single deep breath. “Yes sir, you sent for me?”

Not even noticing Bassil’s condition or even looking up from his personal journals of historical fights, Corvain motioned for Bassil to take a chair.

Bassil grabbed a wooden chair from the wall and sat down patiently waiting for Corvain to begin the conversation.

“Tell me Bassil. Since when do you allow Bok to fight the new warriors?” Corvain asked evenly without looking up from the journals.

“I didn’t plan it or allow it, none of us did. Nash called Bok out and infuriated him to the point of attacking. Bok was ready to stand down when Nash then challenged him outright. Bok was on him before we could do anything.”

“Well, Nash is alive I hear, and ok. What is the news on Bok?”

“The hospital says he should make it, but it might be advisable to pay for a healing just in case.”

“Make it so. I don’t want to lose Bok. Ogres are next to impossible to find anymore, especially ones so well suited to the pit.” Corvain concluded.

“I called you here for another reason, however. I want you to test Nash and find the limits of his abilities. I am thinking of doing something special with him this weekend, so I need your best report by noon tomorrow. Start him right at dawn or just a little before, Ok?”

After a few more instructions, Bassil left. Corvain sat at his desk, absently scratching at the ink stain again. After a few more minutes he stood up, this time in a good mood as he went and retired for the day. Overall, Corvain felt this might have been one of the best days of his life. A lot was falling into place, and two months from now, his entire social status would be much improved. The feeling of destiny was starting to shine brightly on his perceived future, funny how such a bad day could turn good in the end.