Aid from Unexpected Places
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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.
As the violent display of blood and steel raged below, up in the House Whitebanner private box, Verdant Crahka's mind raged in its own battle. He'd spent the entire week exchanging increasingly nasty missives with Cornelius Venge, utterly furious at having been used. And he was quite certain that he had, indeed, been used.
It had been no secret that Verdant had been interested in rescuing Maria Stedmark from her enslavement over her father's debt. He'd made more than one attempt at submitting an offer to Venge to purchase her as his own, that he might then work out a generous arrangement with her father to see her home. Cornelius had rarely even bothered with any sort of reply to those letters, but hadn't missed this opportunity to respond with gloating returns of mocking innocence at the 'allegations' of deceit towards Verdant personally and the far more serious crime of defrauding the arena to fix odds.
Admittedly, the arena itself had completely sided with Venge, stating that there was no requirement to indicate any level of skill in combat when donating a slave as a lot, nor had Venge given any estimate of her ability, either good or bad. Ultimately, lots were always a pot-luck and the odds were always set the same for every such bout, regardless of potential, since little was done to verify actual ability to fight before pushing them onto the sands.
In addition, many lots were donated due to violent tendencies or a capability for fighting that their previous owners could not keep handled. It would be far from the first time that a lot had turned out to be someone with professional training in battle; donated either innocently or with planned intent. Of course, the arena also made sure that all lots were half-starved and exhausted, not to mention poorly armed against a well-armed opponent. As far as they were concerned, Cornelius had not committed any kind of fraud or made any false claims, other than putting her name as 'Maria'. A false name, however, wasn't anything the arena cared about.
That Cornelius also had more than a few 'friends' in high places had surely not hurt for it all to get swept under the rug. In truth, it did seem that Cornelius had managed to step right through all the proper loop holes and even Verdant had to admit the arena's logic on the matter was sound. Likely, Cornelius's refusal to openly admit his doings wasn't an attempt to protect himself, but was simply meant to mock and infuriate Verdant.
Still, the personal affront of Cornelius using his own compassion against him wasn't something Verdant was going to easily allow to be swept away. He didn't like being made to look like a naïve fool, despite that most considered him to be one already. Cornelius was not the first or only owner to look down on House Whitebanner for its compassionate views and handling of its slaves.
In this instance, however, he'd not only been manipulated and used, but used as an instrument to make an attack on someone else. It wouldn't surprise him if, the next time he came to Sabrina for help, she refused on grounds that he may just be someone's patsy again. Considering that she was one of the only House owners he could reasonably go to for any sort of help, that stung quite a bit to consider.
While Sabrina was as wily and manipulative as every other owner, she still seemed to genuinely regard him as a something close to a friend and he felt like-wise. And the Grand Arena was a place with very, very few friends. If Cornelius had damaged that relationship, Verdant would certainly make him pay for it.
Somehow.
For now, however, he was mostly at a real loss. With the arena seeing no wrong done, even if he had knowingly donated a ringer as part of some ploy, there wasn't much Verdant could really do, beyond pointless saber-rattling. His influences were non-existent, even more so in comparison to Venge's.
That hadn't stopped him from being completely preoccupied and lost in his grumbling thoughts the whole morning. The whole matter had been completely distracting him from watching any of the battles going on below. However, Lanni, seated beside him, brought him out of his dark musings, touching his arm.
"Master, Leita of House Firebridge is about to fight." She said to him, drawing his full attention, finally, down to the arena floor. "You have one hundred crescent placed in her favor, Master." She reminded him, taking a moment to re-consult her ledger for confirmation of this.
"Thank you, Lanni." Verdant said, clearing away his thoughts so he could focus on this fight. He was making a very risky gamble to put so much on her, especially in light of how little the gain would be for her win. He rarely placed wagers on the lot combats, given that neither side gave particularly worthwhile odds and it was so hard to know what to expect might come out the far gate.
For a brief moment, he felt a bitter thought cross his mind, realizing that he'd just further made the arena's point of why it wasn't concerned about Cornelius's entry, but he quickly brushed it back aside. He wanted to absorb every moment of the melee. Not just in concern of his wager, but because Leita had been consuming his thoughts almost as much as his ire at Cornelius had.
Since that day when he'd first truly met her at Sabrina's estate, he'd felt a growing interest in the girl. Her defeat of Venge's little ringer had been the one bright spot in the affair and he'd found himself looking forward to watching her next fight, to see what new menace she faced. She seemed to constantly find herself pitted against opponents that grossly outmatched her, yet had won every time. There was definitely something special about this girl.
Of course, not all of his thoughts regarding her had been strictly about combat either. She'd invaded more than one of his dreams in a far more amorous manner. While he scoffed at the idea of forcing anything upon her through some vulgar offer to her owner, some part of him wondered what it might be like to entertain her willing company for an evening.
Below, the petite young woman was already squaring off with a grubby-looking man who seemed encouraged to find himself pitted against her, obviously confusing her smaller size to mean she was a smaller threat. However, unlike her previous opponents, this one seemed to be exactly what one came to expect from a typical lot slave. Clumsy and untrained, fighting with desperate antics, not with any sort of skill.
If Verdant expected that to mean that Leita would make short work of the man, however, he found himself mistaken. She seemed to treat him like he was the more skilled and threatening of the two of them. All the control and instinct that she'd previously shown seemed to have been left behind somewhere.
The lot seemed only further encouraged by this, becoming even more daring in his attacks. When he pressed her with a series of poorly made jabs of the spear, she gave only enough of a defense to fend off any injury, falling back as though she were being overwhelmed. Verdant boggled at her strange drop in ability.
And then, he saw it for what it was. Sitting forward even more intently, he began studying her motions carefully. With every second, he became more certain of his deduction. Sitting back, he laughed. "Well, I'll be a goblyn's brother." He said, shaking his head. "What an interesting woman she is."
Behind him, Ashton snorted. "She seems to be on the verge of losing, Master. And losing us a pretty hefty sum."
"Not at all, my friend." Verdant assured him. "She's completely in control. She is simply allowing him to keep the appearance of having the upper hand against her."
"You think she is trying to bait him into making a mistake, Master?" Lanni asked, as confused as Ashton.
"No. I don't think so." Verdant said with a chuckle. "Trying to bait us, the House owners, more likely."
Ashton paused to watch a little more closely, absorbing this, before standing upright. "She's trying to make him look better! So that he'll be more likely to get purchased at auction." He said, sounding astounded by the idea.
"I'd bet my favorite hat on it." Verdant said with another laugh. "Not that most of the owners would be all that fooled, but the crowds are. Listen." He put a hand to his ear, to emphasize.
Below them, in the lower stands where the common citizenry of the city was seated, the sounds of their cheers and gasps told a story of deep catharsis. Leita had already developed enough of a reputation with her amazing wins to be considered an underdog gladiator. They were invested in her enough that anyone that seemed to give her trouble would be taken as a serious competitor.
"He'll be bought for certain, if only just on the recognition she's bringing him right now." He clapped his hands together, finding it all wonderfully delicious. "I'm sure the man doesn't even realize just how much a gift she is giving him. Most likely, if she even injures him as part of her win, it will be a minor enough one to be healed by the morning."
"Why would she do that, Master?" Lanni asked, seeming a little dubious of Verdant's logic.
"Compassion." He said simply.
"That isn't going to do her any favors, though." Ashton retorted. "It makes her look less capable to her owner and only keeps her fighting lots for longer until she seems capable of handling better opponents."
Verdant turned to regard his bodyguard with an incredulous expression. "Come now, Ashton, you should know better than even I do that a gladiator's skill has very little to do with how long they are pitted only against lots. It's about reputation with the crowds that matters. She made that reputation in the very first battle she fought here. It was why she was such a sought-after prize at auction."
