Chapter 9
A Change of Plan
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Disclaimer: This story is not meant as 'erotica', but dark adventure-fantasy. It may contain material that sensitive readers might find uncomfortable. Please be advised.
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The pain in Leita's head felt like a living thing struggling to batter its way out of her face. Kalder's punch hadn't completely broken her nose, but the difference was barely more than semantics. A dark mess of blood coated her chin and neck, as well as all over her tunic. It had taken Einrich almost ten minutes to stop the profuse bleeding.
Worse, she'd been disorientated ever since she'd woken up splayed out in the grass of the pitch. The Healer felt sure she'd received, at least, a mild concussion, meaning that she needed to rest. While she was able to walk, she felt clumsy and heavy-limbed, her mind thick as pudding. That hadn't stopped her from receiving Kalder's final injury though.
Even now, listening to him giving his 'assessment' of her as a gladiator to the Mistress, it felt as disappointing as when he'd first told her that he would not be endorsing her as a fighter and still planned to recommend she put somewhere else in the house, if not just sold off to someone else. There was no question in her mind that it had nothing to do with a lack of ability, just his prejudice against her.
"But I did what you said." She'd weakly argued, feeling confused, when he'd initially told her. "You said...said I only had to go to the kitchens if I failed to get the better of you."
"Which just shows that you also don't really listen." Kalder retorted. "That wasn't a deal, that was just me telling you I planned to hurt you before I sent you to where you belonged." He'd then sneered at her in a way that told her that there had never been a chance of earning his respect. "A lucky move isn't going to save you from that."
She'd simply not had the strength or focus to argue it anymore. She felt certain she'd proven that she could fight, even to him, but she realized that his refusal to accept her wasn't about her skills. He didn't want her in the stable out of some other, unknown, reason. She wasn't sure what that reason was, but it didn't really matter. She had no way of changing his mind. It was already too late.
Standing between Kalder and Colja, swaying slightly as she fought to keep her balance and blink away the pounding force behind her eyes, they were already before Mistress Marlowe. She'd met them in a small office on the third floor of the house, beautifully appointed with velvet furnishings and elegant art pieces. A large, beautifully carved cherrywood desk took up one corner of the space, upon which were a scattering of ledgers and papers, but seemed more a home for various toys, amusements, and oddments, including what appeared to be a covered birdcage.
Most of the art pieces seemed focused on either the arena or Mistress Marlowe herself. Those dealing with her had an almost scandalous appeal, depicting her either nude or barely clothed, though never in a sexual manner. A good example of which was a life-sized marble statue that adorned one corner, a depiction of her naked form holding a chalice out to the viewer. The other arm of the statue was behind its back, suggesting that it might be holding something there, hidden away from view until she was ready to reveal it.
For some reason, Leita imagined the unseen hand holding a dagger.
"If nothing else, Mistress, she can't even take a command." Kalder was finishing up, adding this little cherry to the cake. "I kept telling her to report to the kitchen, but she refused to ever leave the yard. I'm not even sure you'd want her working on the floors. Probably—"
The Mistress's hand snapped upward, cutting him off with an impatient gesture. "Enough, Kalder. I believe I get your point." She turned her gaze to Leita, crystal-grey eyes piercing right through her. "And yet, as I hear tell, she still disarmed you in the yard and knocked you down before that."
"Cheap shots and lucky swings." Kalder offered, though it sounded almost like a grumble.
Those sharp eyes caught him up and made him flinch, his own dark eyes looking away. "Some of the best gladiators rely on such things, Kalder. I think you judge her too harshly. Obviously, she's worth far more in my stable than on my floor."
The large man fidgeted, looking back at her, if not quite meeting those eyes, seeming momentarily confused. "Mistress, you told me—"
"I told you to let me know what she could do, Kalder." She interrupted him, her gaze drifting back to Leita. "And I think you managed to do that, even despite your best efforts to give her no chance at all."
Leita wasn't sure, but she thought she saw Kalder's confused expression deepen a moment, before he wiped all emotion from his stone-like face, looking away at nothing and straightening stiffly. "My apologies, Mistress. I suppose she might have...some potential. I still believe she'll never be a real warrior." He said, sounding just as stiff as his new posture.
"Definitions do vary, Kalder." She said, leaning back and really examining Leita. "Regardless, I think she may be a lot more surprising than any of us were expecting. I purchased her for this House's stable and in that stable she will remain."
Her eyes flicked to Colja. "What about you? What is your impression of her abilities, my handsome Fire-dancer.
The aljin glanced a moment down at Leita beside him, considering her with that inscrutable look of his. Finally, he looked forward, staring at nothing in particular, the same as Kalder, only in a much softer way. "While she needs practice and experience, Mistress, she knows her general form and art. She's obviously had training with combat before."
Leita looked at him in surprise, caught off guard by the observation. Considering that she'd never been in any kind of fight until being sold as a lot to the arena, the idea that she gave the impression that she actually knew what she was doing seemed unexpected. She'd merely mimicked what she'd seen the other fighters doing, tried to emulate how they'd fought. She hadn't even been sure she'd been doing it correctly.
Glancing back at Kalder, she realized that she could see a begrudging agreement with Colja's words. Still staring a hole into the back wall, she recognized his disgust at the fact that she had actually impressed him, against his will.
"Really?" Mistress Marlowe said, looking back at Leita with narrowed eyes. "That is interesting. And fortunate. If you believe she already some level of skill, then I don't have to wait to put her into the arena."
Both men's heads and gazes snapped towards her in alarm. "Even if she has some idea of how to swing a sword, Mistress, she is not ready." Kalder practically blurted. Leita thought she heard something like concern in his voice, much to her continued surprise.
"She also may have also taken a hard knock to the head, Mistress." Colja added quickly, seeming to very quickly regain a bit of poise. "The Healer says she needs a few days to recover."
The Mistress gave a flap of her hand, relaxing back into her chair. "It will be a few days to arrange an event for her anyway. Her head will be fine by then. Since she already knows what she's doing, it won't hurt her to forgo training until then." A little smile crept onto her lips. "Since she's already able to get the upper hand on one of my best fighters."
Leita could see Kalder tense at the words, as though they were a sting to him. Within moments, any suggest of concern for her was gone, replaced by an almost satisfied look of comeuppance. "Yes, Mistress. I'm sure she'll make you proud." He drawled, his voice dripping with venom.
"See her cleaned up and fed." Mistress Marlowe said dismissing them with a wave. "She goes onto the sands at the end of the week. Then she can show all of us just how much she knows."
With that, she rose from her chair and moved to sit at the polished cherrywood desk full of ornaments. Leita noticed her caress the covered cage absently before she settled into the seat at the desk. The two men ushered Leita back into the hall, Kalder practically fuming as he left the small room. "Well, little girl, looks like you get your chance to bleed into the sand after all. Congratulations." He glared at the aljin.
"I'm going back to the yard, Zon is fighting an execution match tomorrow. I want to make sure he stays focused." Kalder said to Colja, seeming suddenly weary. "You see to this lost scrubmaid." With that, he stomped away down the stairs.
After a moment, she heard Colja give a little chuckle. "I think it will take much longer for his pride to heal than your head." He quipped, motioning for her to follow him. "Though I would not let your own pride get too large from it. He was not really putting much effort or attention into you out there. Had you had his full attention, and respect, you would not have had a chance. There is a reason he is the House Champion."
Leita raised an eyebrow. "House Champion?"
"The premier combatant for a House, it's top fighter." Colja explained. "There is a reason it is he who is the one training the rest."
"I thought that was because he was an Element?" Leita asked.
"He is an Element because he is a great warrior first, a reminder of earth second." Colja said, leading her down the stairs. "Even still, an Element is just the stable leadership. The House Champion doesn't have to be one of them. Kalder is merely both because he is that skilled."
