Slave Unbound Ch. 22

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."

He shook his head, looking back down at the battle below. "No, this little charade will only help grow that. Instead of some quick act of brutal savagery, she's giving them a show. And, if it does keep her fighting lots a little longer, than that's a few more of her fellow slaves that she can help find a higher price and a stable where they can be trained and fed."

Verdant lounged back into his seat, feeling a deep affection for the interesting young blonde who seemed to never run out of surprises. He assumed she would be wise enough to recognize that she still would need to win, if only to ensure that the emboldened slave didn't accidently kill her. So, he felt secure that his bet was quite safe, and he allowed himself the luxury of simply enjoying the show she gave.

Within another five minutes, he was granted the satisfaction of things playing out very much as he'd predicted. Leita 'managing' to 'turn the fight around' at the very end, disarming the man and knocking him prone, where she put her weapon to his chest and procured his surrender. However, she took things even further, by helping the man back to his feet and giving him a salute of respect for a battle well fought.

He returned her gesture with a salute of his own and the two actually clasped wrists in mutual regard for one another. Likely, he was only now starting to recognize just how lucky he had been to receive this compassionate girl as an opponent.

Both of them received cheers from the gathered crowds as they left the sand, meaning that, in the ways that mattered, she'd allowed them both to win. And all without even shedding a drop of his blood or bruising anything more than the man's pride. Sadly, it might be the last real show of kindness he received for a long time, but Verdant felt certain that the man would be in proper armor, fighting a lot himself, the next time he saw him.

Verdant stood, applauding Leita as she made her exit. "I think I may just inquire at Sabrina's later in the week. I think I will frame it as my wanting to make amends for my unwitting part in Cornelius's little ruse, but see if I can't also broker an audience with this Leita. I would like to get to know her better."

Lanni looked at him questioningly. "Are you interested in obtaining her, Master?"

Verdant gave a soft chuckle. "Without question, but I'm also certain that I am not the only one who would like to. However, I don't expect that Sabrina would so much as consider selling her at this point. Especially not for anything less than the ridiculous price she paid for her at auction. Which is far more than I can reasonably afford."

He sat back down again, mulling things over. "Right now, I simply would like to better meet this intriguing slave. A meeting where she's not been commanded to have to demean herself before me."

"To what end, Master?" Lanni asked, sounding a little confused. "If you say there is no chance you could buy her, what are you seeking to gain from her?"

Verdant sank back into the padding of the chair. He found he didn't really have a particularly good answer for that. The truth was, there wasn't anything he was looking to gain. He just wanted to see her again. To know her better.

"Things best left unsaid for now, Lanni." He replied, attempting to make the words not sound like the stalling bluff they were. "I wish to change the subject."

"Yes, Master." She replied obediently, respectfully putting her focus back on the ledger in her lap. "The next lot will be fought by House Golddawn's gladiator, Celg—"

"Master. We appear to have a visitor." Ashton interrupted her, lightly touching Verdant's shoulder.

Turning to look towards the box entrance, Verdant was surprised to see the diminutive HouseMaster, Tylone Orchidbryar, made to seem all the smaller standing amid his massive bodyguards. He also had one of his pleasure slaves with him, attached to a long gilded chain. The young woman was, herself, almost half again taller than him.

"Greetings, Master Orchidbryar." He said, rising from his seat and giving the follow owner as cordial a smile as he could muster. Tylone was one of the more unctuous and odious HouseMasters, usually treating Verdant as some foolish child who'd accidently wandered into the arena. Ironic, considering that Tylone bore the appearance of one.

"I do hope that I am not intruding." Tylone said in an insincere tone. "May I enter?"

Verdant gave him a gracious bow. "I would be happy for the company, Master Orchidbryar." He said, doing a far better job at sounding genuine that his guest. "Please, have a seat." He added, gesturing to the empty one beside him.

Tylone and his entourage descended the few steps and the Fennfolk had a servant stack a number of cushions into the seat before having a guard help him climb into it. Despite the slight absurdity of the sight of him sitting on a mountain of pillows, legs dangling, the HouseMaster managed to project a certain degree of authority and presence. He had his pleasure slave sit on the floor near him, the young woman dreamily laying her head against his thigh, as though in adoration of him.

The slave was well-trained enough to make the act look convincing, but Verdant seriously doubted it was anything more than that. An act. Pleasure slaves typically came from the Municipal Brothels, who turned attractive slaves into experts in the arts of seduction and flattery. However, it was all mere illusion, usually masking a deeply broken and damaged soul.

"I saw your man's fight earlier this morning." Tylone said, once he was properly settled. "He has certainly improved quite a bit since becoming your newest acquisition." He stroked the woman's hair absently, as though she were a pet.

"Yes, well, we all know how much a proper meal and rest can improve any lot's abilities." Verdant replied modestly, putting his pity for the slave out of his mind. "As well as what kind of difference proper arms and even just a little practice makes."

"Oh, you shouldn't sell your House trainers so short, my good boy." Tylone replied jovially. "He has most certainly become a far fiercer combatant. Why, he near to tore that poor woman he was fighting apart."

In truth, Verdant agreed that the man had indeed shown some significant improvement, but was also becoming a bit of a worry in regards to his aggressiveness. He'd won the fight decisively, but had also brutalized the poor lot he'd faced far beyond what he'd needed to. Verdant tried to ingrain an ideal of sportsmanship and restraint in his stable. This one, however, seemed to be falling short of properly absorbing any of that mindset.

"If you are interested in negotiating for him, I might be open to something." Verdant said brightly, figuring that must be the purpose of this little visit. If Tylone was interested in purchasing the man, he could both save himself the trouble of dealing with the man's growing viciousness and make a nice profit on him.

Tylone took a moment to make a show of considering the offer, before replying. "Allow me to think on it. I might very well take you up on that offer, if the price is reasonable." He gave a dismissive wave. "However, that isn't the matter to which I wanted to discuss with you."

Verdant raised an eyebrow, a bit curious. "I see. Well, allow me to offer you a glass of something before we get to your business. I know you are fond of good wine."

The offer seemed to please the Fennfolk greatly, his features brightening. "That does sound lovely. I accept."

Verdant looked to one of his own servants standing next to a small cart. "Please pour Master Orchidbryar a cup of the Aesylian red." Looking back to the small HouseMaster, he gave a diplomatic smile. "I came recently by a few bottles of this through a good friend. Fantastic vintage and age. I do think you will appreciate it."

Tylone's eyes glittered as the servant poured, the stout aroma of the potent wine carrying all the way over to them as the cup was filled. When he received it, he took a moment to inhale the scent a little more before taking the daintiest of sips, savoring the flavor for a long time.

"You are certainly a man who knows his stock, my fellow." He replied, this time sounding quite honest in his words. "You say that you have more than one bottle? Might you be open to selling me one of them?"

Verdant gave him a solicitous smile. "I shall send you one as a gift. With it, hopes of improving relations between our Houses."

Tylone took him in for a moment, eyeing him shrewdly, but with an amused grin. "Perhaps, I have not given you as much credit as you deserve, Master Crahka. I will accept both offers graciously. And, please send along what you might like to receive in exchange for your fighter, as well, and I'll see if we can't reach an agreement on his purchase."

Verdant gave him a proper bow of his head, tilting forward with his hand over his heart to show highest respect. "It would be my pleasure. Now, to the business you wanted to discuss." He felt a rush of triumph. Pleasure slaves were not the only ones who knew how to put up a good act.

"Yes, yes, thank you." Tylone replied, seeming now much more relaxed and earnest in his attitudes. Verdant smiled inwardly, hoping this meant his efforts in diplomacy had helped cut through a measure of the man's typically greasy demeanor, as well. "I have heard about your attempts to convince the Arena's authorities that Cornelius Venge should be censured for something regarding a fight with one of House Firebridge's gladiators."

Verdant gave a vague nod, unsure of where this was going. "That is correct, though it appears it was a futile effort. Apparently, he was wise enough to know where to best play his little game. As far as the Grand Arena sees it, he was under no obligation to reveal anything about the slave he donated or her prowess."