“I was a gladiator. I bought my freedom some time ago and made for Boulesky and worked my way downwards following the refugees this place after hearing that this place had a lot of jobs,” Halafina whispered and Lawrence nodded slowly.

Though the Wars of the Six Kings and Five Princes was drawing to a close, Lawrence had received consistent reports of the devastation and how savage the commanders were when it came to war. They catapulted diseased corpses into cities, set fire to entire fields of harvest when they retreated and were not beneath sending children into battle as well.

“Gladiator… That is different from a battle slave right?” Lawrence asked and Halafina seemed impressed that Lawrence knew what battle slaves were.

“Yep! The battle slaves are bred from birth in captivity while gladiators were former soldiers captured by the Salafite Caliphate,” she replied and Lawrence nodded.

“Are battle slaves castrated at birth or something?” Lawrence asked and Halafina smiled.

“You seem to know a lot about that place! Ever gone there?” Halafina asked and Lawrence shook his head. All he knew was what Trey said before.

“I only know what my friend told me. They castrated their battle slaves and pulled out their tongues as well. Then… What happened to girls?” Lawrence asked and Halafina looked away before looking Lawrence in the eye.

“They were made sure that they could never give birth, ever.”

A chill shivered down Lawrence’s spine, something he covered by taking a large gulp of the ale.

“Potato wedges please!” Lawrence raised his hand and Halafina raised an eyebrow.

“What are potato wedges?” Halafina asked and a genuine smile spread across his face. Lawrence was always thrilled to share recipes and discuss about food.

“A specialty of this town, I’d say you quite enjoy it.”

As a small plate of potato wedges came, Lawrence urged Halafina to eat, “My treat”

Halafina gingerly picked up one of the potato wedges, holding it up and sniffing it. She swallowed her saliva and took a bite, her eyes lighting up after chewing it.

“This is delicious!” Halafina whispered, taking another. Laughing, Lawrence was thrilled that this was so well received even by a foreigner.

“I’m glad that this is to your taste! Can you tell me more about your time as a gladiator, if you don’t mind?” Lawrence asked and Halafina smiled, revealing her pearl white teeth.

Stolen story; please report.

“What do you want to know?” Halafina asked, enjoying the combination of ale and potato wedges.

“How did you… Pay your way out… Sorry, I mean, how did you buy your freedom?” Lawrence asked, choosing his words carefully. He did not know whether his phrasing of his questions would come across as rude, so the safest way to ask the question would be to use what she had said earlier.

“Of course! So, I was a mercenary fighting for the Namad Caliphate which was swallowed by the Salafite Caliphate. The mercenaries were allowed to surrender and become a gladiator or face the death penalty.”

“So… A lot of us opted to become a gladiator. The price was that if you won 100 battles in the colosseum, you get your freedom!” Halafina said triumphantly. Lawrence’s eyes traced the skin where Halafina’s skin was visible. She wore a leather gambeson, her weapon of choice being what seemed to be two daggers strapped to her waistband.

On her skin was numerous scars and burns, giving Lawrence the brief vision of Ben Hur or the Rise of Rome.

“I fought my way out, plain and simple!” Halafina smiled brightly and Lawrence nodded, a sense of awe and respect now in him.

“But isn’t there a chance that they will still forcefully keep you anyway?” Lawrence asked and Halafina shook her head.

“No. These records are kept in public and any gladiator who stays on actually do so as an employee with their own free will and are paid rather well!”

So perhaps these things were in sway with public opinion as well? Perhaps they even got a cut from the winnings if they did well enough?

“You must be very skilled to survive,” Lawrence said admiringly and Halafina smirked, raising her own mug of ale in response. Lawrence knew that in actual historical recordings, gladiator battles were not the immense blood sport that television always made it out to be. In fact, gladiators though capable of holding their own in battle, often coordinated with one another to provide an entertaining show to the audience, where they could potentially earn even wealthier sponsors and in return, a much more comfortable life even in service.

“What kind of jobs were you looking for in this town anyway?” Lawrence asked, curious what a former gladiator could possibly wish to do in a town leagues away from her own home.

“I don’t know. The town just seems so different. Do you know what people usually do when the weather is like this?” Halafina asked Lawrence and Lawrence shook his head.

“They curse that the weather is like this and hole up in their home for the rich ones. The poor huddle together. But here…” Halafina twirled her hair as she looked at the people bustling about in this town that never sleeps.

“Are you planning to put your arms to good use again? Or are you here for the more uh… Low key life?” Lawrence asked and Halafina was silent for a moment.

“I heard the army here is incredible. At least, common folk like those walking around in the streets seem to think their army is invincible. But fighting people like you and I will know more if we ever see them fight,” Halafina replied and Lawrence knew what she meant.

In societies that are not functioning well economically or politically, the army was always seen as a bastion of strength and comfort. People looked to strength in arms to bolster their own confidence in the system. In times of peace and prosperity, the army was looked upon as an instrument to deter aggression and help protect key influences held by the people and the state in order to further that prosperity.

Peace is simply preparation for the next war.