Chapter 31 #3
His jaw tightened and I could tell there was no talking him out of this.
I turned over his plans in my head and came to the conclusion that I didn’t care.
If he wanted to risk his life by going after some witch, then more fool him.
And in the meantime, I’d continue to use his guidance to pass myself off as a count and win the princess’s hand in marriage.
It didn’t matter if he thought I had what it took to win in the brawls or not – I knew for a fact that I did.
Actually, it seemed to me like we could both get what we wanted from this arrangement simply enough, so I was quite happy to allow him to continue with his plans just so long as he continued to coach me in all I’d need to complete this con.
“Well, on your head be it, mate. If that’s what floats your boat, I won’t get in your way. You keep helping me and I’ll keep on providing you with your cover story. Win-win. And when I’m emperor I’ll give you your old job back as my royal bitch for good measure.”
“A royal guard is a position of absolute prestige,” he replied indignantly. “Only the best of the best are selected to join our ranks and-”
“And you’re made of steel. Got it.” I gave him an amused look and he gave up on trying to lecture me about the importance of his chosen profession.
Cassius sighed heavily and the arguments went out of him.
“For now, we need to focus on getting you through the first brawl,” he said.
“A scroll arrived before you got back. You’ll be facing Lord Kalaviv in the first round tomorrow.
It will be a fight, man on man, no weapons will be permitted.
Everyone has had their opponent chosen randomly by the judges.
The scroll explained that each round will offer up a new challenge to the suitors, but it will not be announced until closer to the event.
The suitors will gain points based on their performance, not just whether they win. ”
“Alright then. So I’m facing peacock with the flashy swords in round one? I can take him easy,” I said confidently as I started unbuttoning my tunic. It was hot in the room, and I always preferred to give the breeze a chance at finding my skin if it appeared.
“Well, you need to do it like a nobleman to ensure you are awarded the highest points possible,” Cassius said and I groaned at his serious expression.
“No dirty tactics then?” I guessed. Being noble certainly seemed to go hand in hand with being boring as fuck more often than not.
“It would help if I knew a little more about the way he fights,” Cassius murmured to himself thoughtfully.
“He’s from the Forken Empire and a war hero apparently, but anyone who has to announce themselves as a legend probably isn’t one really.” I shrugged out of my tunic, noticing Kyra’s gaze trailing over my muscular chest and the ink that coated it, resisting the urge to smirk. Ugly my arse.
“You mean like the way you did when we met in the dungeons?” Cassius shot back.
I barked a laugh at that. “Fair point. But where I come from, everyone knows my name.”
“And now those same people all know that you’re dead too,” he said, no doubt aiming to wound with that reminder, but I felt no loss over the end of that life, so his blow fell short of landing.
“I’ll take that trade,” I said, indicating our extravagant surroundings. Seemed like I was doing pretty damn nicely out of our new arrangement to me. Why would I grieve a life of poverty in the face of this?
“You really don’t care about any of the people you’ve had to leave behind?” he pushed.
I considered the question for a moment. I’d joined The Forty at the same time as Balthazar when we were thirteen and I’d spent a hell of a lot of time with him over the last fifteen years.
But we’d always been more like rivals than friends when it came down to it.
And I liked Pip well enough, even looked out for him when I could, but he was just some street kid who made me laugh.
There were other members of The Forty who I’d drunk and laughed with many times, but none of them mattered enough for me to grieve over losing them.
I’d figured out a long fucking time ago that the only person I could afford to give a shit about in this miserable world was me, and I was planning on doing just that.
“No, not really,” I admitted.
“You’re as lonely as me,” Kyra breathed and I frowned at her as her eyes glimmered with tears, making the gold in them seem to swirl with magic.
“I’m not lonely,” I objected. “I’m just alone. There’s a difference.”
“Yes, there is a difference,” she agreed.
“I’ve been stuck alone for more time than I could count, wishing that the day would come when I might be surrounded by people again so that I wouldn’t have to be alone anymore.
You have been surrounded by more people than you could count for your entire life, but instead of taking joy in the relationships you could forge with them, you have chosen a miserable life of solitude.
It’s kind of sad when you think about it.
You’ve turned your nose up at the one thing I yearned for more than anything. ”
I frowned at her for several long seconds, not liking the way that assessment made me not only seem like a total arsehole, but also like I was somehow missing something of my own.
“I never said I was miserable,” I said eventually.
“You never said you were happy either,” she replied and the look she gave me was like she was peering right into my soul, cutting me apart and seeing all of the damage which lay inside me.
I’d learned the hard way a long time ago what the cost of trusting someone was.
And without trust, relationships never really had a chance to bloom, so I’d gone without them rather than allow myself to be vulnerable ever again.
I only needed to look in a mirror to be reminded of what trust had cost me, and I fisted my hands as I fought the desire to score my fingers over the tattoos which had been forced onto my skin while I screamed for a mercy which never came.
I pushed myself to my feet, shaking my head irritably as I strode across the room in search of a bed. This conversation was starting to push my mind into a place I fought to avoid on a daily basis, and I just wanted to rest a while without having to hear their constant chatter.
“Where are you going?” Cassius called as I stepped into a wide bed chamber with a huge four poster bed at the centre of it.
Silk sheets in shades of gold and silver lay across the thick mattress and a thin, gauze curtain surrounded it where it sat before a wide window which looked out on the gardens.
“I’m having a lie down,” I replied tersely as I dropped my tunic to the floor followed by my britches and clambered onto the soft bed.
“Well enjoy it while you can - in an hour we need to start preparing you for the fight tomorrow,” Cassius called firmly.
“Whatever,” I mumbled as I closed my eyes, taking in the peaceful silence of the wide space which surrounded me and trying to focus on all that I had, instead of allowing any of their inaccurate assessments to permeate my skin.
They knew nothing of the life I’d lived or the choices I’d been forced to make for my own survival, and I didn’t have to answer to a single one of them or their judgement on things they knew nothing about.
I’d always found it easy to shut my brain off and get to sleep when I needed to, but as I drifted off, one thought kept whispering through my mind.
If Kyra had spent all that time wishing she had people to care about, then was she right about me wasting time being alone?
The bang of a metal door sounded at the top of the stairs, and I flinched as I scrambled to the back of my cage, the iron bars which fronted it making me feel impossibly weak even though I wasn’t touching them anymore.
But in my restless sleep, my limbs had fallen slack, and I’d woken finding my leg pressed to them, the little strength I’d been holding onto sapped by the vile metal.
I pressed my back to the stone wall of my cage and drew my legs against my chest, wrapping my thin arms around my thinner body and trembling as the burn in my legs drew all of my attention.
He’d finished with them yesterday, telling me the easy part was over as the pain of the marks he’d branded onto my flesh damn near blinded me and I dipped in and out of consciousness.
These weren’t normal tattoos which he was branding onto my skin.
I’d seen men having their bodies inked in the marketplaces on many occasions, and though they might have flinched and cursed beneath the tip of the needle as it was driven into their skin, they never howled with the agony I experienced as these patterns were forced upon me.
And I was no weak child. I’d felt plenty of pain in my life through fists, the lash of a belt, even the crash of stones and rocks hurled at my skin for the crime of simply begging for food to fill my stomach.
I didn’t flinch easily, and I’d learned long ago never to show weakness or signs of pain.
I could take a beating in silence, but I had screamed like a new-born babe while that ink had been forced beneath my skin.
“Bennit?” I breathed for the hundredth time since I’d woke a few hours ago.
There had been scraps of bread and a cup of water awaiting me in my small cage and I’d demolished them instantly, the hunger pangs barely sated by the meagre meal. But no matter how many times I’d hissed the name of the boy in the cage beside mine, he hadn’t replied.
The brick wall which backed my cage ran around the left and right of it too, only the door was barred with iron so I couldn’t see him in there, but the silence had had me trembling ever since I’d swallowed the last of my water.
Footsteps thumped down the stairs and I fought against the urge to close my eyes, staring out into the dark cellar as an orange light descended alongside the man who held the flaming torch.
My eyes burned from the onslaught of light after countless hours in the dark, but I welcomed it all the same. Better to see my fate coming, even if I couldn’t run from it.
I watched as the hem of the ice white cloak descended the stairs on the far side of the dingy space, keeping my eyes from the table between here and there as I tried to pretend it didn’t exist, the man who haunted my nightmares drawing closer.
He always arrived like that; his silence only ever broken once he began his work. I’d long since stopped begging or pleading with him, though Bennit still cried and begged. But he’d only been here a week, so he’d learn. Or not if his silence was as telling as I feared.
I watched as the priest drew closer, the height of my cage making it impossible for me to do more than stay seated here and keeping his face out of sight as he closed in on us.
He paused beside Bennit’s cage, a heavy breath of irritation escaping him which proved my fears true. He was dead. Just like I’d be dead soon if I remained here much longer.
My throat thickened at the realisation that once again I was alone down here.
Death come to claim the soul of yet another forgotten orphan who had been stolen from the streets and brought to this living hell.
A shiver coursed through my weakened limbs and a foul taste coated my tongue.
It was something between fear and grief, though I pushed both aside as forcefully as I could – neither would help me and they only made all of this worse.
The priest stepped away from Bennit’s cage without a word and dropped down to peer into mine.
His dark skin was marred with endless scars which even extended over his bald head, and his eyes were white with blindness, but he still stared directly at me like he could see with something other than them.
He unlocked the cage and opened it, his hand lingering on the iron as if it didn’t affect him at all, and I tensed in anticipation of what would come next.
I cried out as his hand snapped out like a viper and snared my ankle in the clutches of his filthy fingernails which bit into my flesh and drew blood as I kicked and struggled.
But it was no use, just like every other time he came for me, the full force of my blows and most desperate flailing of my limbs were never enough to fight him off. But I wouldn’t give up. Not ever.
And as he strapped me to the table again, pinning my arm in place to one side of me and started up that chanting which haunted my every waking hour, I started screaming.
Not from the agony of the foul ink that was being driven into my flesh even though it burned its way through me and tore me apart from the inside out as it merged with my body.
No, I didn’t scream from the pain, although that leant strength to my voice.
I screamed in the hopes that someone might hear me, might come to my aid despite no one ever caring enough to help me before now.
So I screamed and I screamed and I ripped my throat raw as I stared into the lifeless eyes of Bennit, who lay dead in his cage, the ink which had been driven into his flesh now pooling on the ground around him as if his body could no longer contain it in death.
But no one came to rescue me. No one ever came for me.