Chapter 20
Tourist
I’m pretty good at being talked about like I’m not there, but I have to admit hearing the Houselord say “ North can never escape” tests my restraint. He is just referring to the Forspoken stone inside me but honestly, Who says things like that? I bite the inside of my mouth and let them have their conversation, I can’t say anything that will make a difference anyway.
Apparently, Xael is the student of some old warrior Atar respects deeply. I don’t really see why that matters, but it's enough that he is happy to let the foreign boy dictate my training and schedule for the next few weeks.
Seems stupid to me. But hey why would you want to consult the boy who just went on a forty-five-win streak? What would I know?
So I just stand there while the two of them decide my fate for the near future. Kalon and Tota have no choice but to do the same. They are going to get tutored by Harrk and then Muraab personally. I have to admit I’m more than a little jealous, Muraab was king on the sands, and Harrk’s record in the pit is something like three hundred wins to twenty losses. They are some of the best pitters to have ever fought on the sands, any amount of time learning from them directly will be invaluable.
None of that stuff really matters. Not compared to the little idea that has been nagging at me ever since Atar mentioned having already committed Morean and Neston.
‘You need me, don’t you? You stupid old fuck. You overcommitted and now I’m your best shot’ I could picture it now. Old Man BloodRock had probably been drunk off his ass. Easy to manipulate into an unfavorable bet. This sort of thing happens from time to time, BloodRock is so used to his slaves dominating the pits, that he has a tendency to accept any bet thrown his way.
This one is particularly stupid as if anyone else manages to beat the flame witch and her partner Atar still loses. That's why he has been holding back his rage. He can’t risk hurting me right now. With only two teams representing BloodRock out of potentially dozens, the old man’s only real chance to win his bet was if one of his teams takes the whole thing. I’m absolutely his best shot at that, and I'm certain he knows it.
The revelation refills my pool of confidence. Xael is in the middle of asking the houselord something. I wasn’t paying attention and don’t know the details. It's something about equipment, but I don’t care. I step forward and shove the foreign boy aside with one hand. He’s exactly as heavy as I’d anticipated, not at all. He manages to keep his feet, but it's a close thing. As my shove sends him stumbling across the room.
I’m not just being a jerk, there is a point to my aggression and I think Atar gets it. He narrows his eyes up at me but remains seated. In return, I shoot him a little grin only he can see. I want him to know I am aware of his mistake, that he has granted me a sort of limited invulnerability to his wrath.
“Something on your mind North?” He asks flatly, those burning eyes of his still narrowed in irritation.
“Food” I exclaim, still ordering my thoughts.
“Food?”
“ Xael is rich, he can do what he wants.” I gesture at the other two pit slaves and then myself. “ But the three of us are going to need better food if you want us in peak condition.” I pause for a second and then clarify. “ The sort of thing they feed us in the tower.”
The houselord snorts. “ fine, now don’t interrupt again.” I blink a few times, surprised he had agreed so readily. Maybe it was just a good idea in general, despite appearances to the contrary I have those sometimes.I step back to allow Xael his spot in front of BloodRock’s throne thing again. Kalon gives me a little nod of appreciation. He must think it was a good idea too.The dark-haired foreign boy on the other hand shoots me what I can only describe as an offended expression. Like my little shove hurt his feelings.
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In a way, I’m taking a big gamble too. Once this particular tournament is over I will once again be open to whatever abuse Atar wants to throw my way. If I’ve pushed things too far he won’t forget. He will however forgive me if I win his bet for him. Honestly, If at the end of the Storm Herald Invitational the Mocking Leviathan is flying BloodRock’s bleeding stone flag. He will probably do a lot more than forgive. I wouldn’t call Atar generous, but he isn’t stupid either. He rewards us when we make him money. If you want quality work even slaves need to know they have something to work towards. It would only hurt the morale of the whole stable of pit slaves if I did something huge like that and got nothing in return.All I need to do is beat a creature that stands above even the blessed, a being not just descended from an elemental being, but a true denizen of the world of fire. Easy, nothing to it.
While I’m pondering all this Atar finishes whatever he was talking about and tells me to go with Xael. There was more, things about the schedule and how many teams the other houses were sending that I really should have been paying attention to. It's hard though, I get so bored standing in silence while the houselord rambles on about the same basic points every time. ‘ rawr me BloodRock, me in charge, you fight for BloodRock and win or me be mad.’ Besides the details don’t really matter, they will tell me where to go and all that when it's happening. All I need to focus on is spilling blood on the sands. Though hopefully a little less than last time.
So Xael leaves, and I follow him. The foreign boy takes a moment to say his farewells to the other team when they exit BloodRock’s office behind us. I give them a little nod. I hate to admit it, but Kalon has slowly been turning into a valuable sparring partner since we started training in the mornings. And Tota grudgingly impressed me when we fought together at house Saffron. I doubt I will ever like the pair of boys, but they have grown on me enough that I’m willing to deal with them.
Like every slave to ever work this compound the pair of boys cut across the hall and into the kitchens to leave. Xael however leads me towards the east wing, the guest wing. I've been there before but not since I was little, and frankly I’m glad of it. I don’t have one single memory from the guest wing that doesn’t make me want to rage and scream, or sob and bite something.
So it's with some trepidation that I follow the dark-haired boy. I shouldn't have bothered worrying. The moment Kalon and Tota are out of sight he aborts his path, spinning to face me. His features are furrowed in the same offended manner he had been so quick to disguise back in BloodRock’s office. Did I really offend him so much with a little shove? The idea seems ridiculous, but on the other hand, I barely understand domestic slaves let alone a rich freeperson.
“What was that in there? Did I do something to you?” He asks with a voice full of hurt. Wow, I really did upset him. Who would have guessed he was so fragile? ‘Pfft humans.’ I think while doing my best to repress a grin.
“No. It wasn’t about you, I was sending Old Man BloodRock a message.” The foreign boy looks like he doesn’t quite believe me.
“So you don’t have some problem with me that I don’t know about?” He presses the question.
I shrug as I reply. “ Other than you are a rich-boy tourist playing at pit slave? No.” His face turns a bright scarlet, and he seems to deflate a little. His mouth works, but it's like he can’t fight the words. “Seriously?!” I snap at him, irritation filling me “You are that offended?”
“Well...” he replies slowly, composing himself “ While I know we aren’t friends I didn’t think you saw me that way. “ The dark-haired boy offers his own shrug.
“You and Kalon both seem to think I’m better than most of the boys here, doesn't that count for something?”
I stare at him for a moment, trying my best to keep my irritation from making me do something stupid.
“You are choosing to be here” I growl. “ How could that ever be the same? You fight for fun, or money, or fame or for some cause. We don’t.”
Xael raises an eyebrow. “I have seen many pitters, yourself included, obviously having fun while fighting or training.”
The pushback makes me want to hit him repeatedly till he sees sense.
“And what else have you seen me do that might be fun? What else have you seen me do at all?”
That stops him dead. I can see in his stupid human face that he is finally starting to get it.
“This is why you called me tourist, not because I am a GodsRinger, but because I can stop fighting if I want to.” he trails off before suddenly grabbing me by the arms.
His eyes are shining, and the offended set of his features has been replaced by one of excitement.
“Change of plans!” He declares with all the cheerfulness his weird accent can muster. I wasn't aware there even was a plan, so I don't object.
“I have to go see Ilexa, meet me at the south gate in a full turn of the glass.”
“Uhh” I’m off put by the sudden shift this conversation is taking. Xael isn’t a malicious sort, but everyone knows when rich guys get excited slaves get hurt or in trouble. ‘Ugh, I’m going to regret this.’
“Okay, just don’t get me in trouble.”
His only reply is a widening smile.