Reign of Shadows - Deborah Chester [135]
“He needs his tongue barbered,” Hovet muttered darkly.
“Perhaps,” the emperor said, eyeing Caelan with displeasure. “Were I not in such a good mood, I might have you cut into dog meat to feed my hounds.” He snapped his fingers, and a slave put a victor’s crown of ivy into his hand.
Leaning forward, the emperor squashed it onto Caelan’s head. It was scratchy and smelled pungently where some of the leaves had been crushed.
“Hail, victor,” the emperor said, suddenly sounding bored, “Take your wretched property away, Tirhin. I’m tired of the fellow.”
Caelan somehow managed to swallow the knot of disappointment in his throat, he had gambled and lost. He tried to remind himself that today had been far from a failure. He would somehow persevere.
Standing up, he backed awkwardly away from the emperor.
Tirhin and the emperor exchanged a brief conversation in low voices, and Tirhin flushed.frowning, the prince exited the box without looking back. Caelan followed, with the soldiers flanking him again as though he might suddenly go mad and spring at one of the concubines who tittered at him.
Out of sight of the crowd, nearly halfway down the ramp, Tirhin suddenly stopped and turned around. His eyes held something unreadable.
“Are you worth the trouble of defying my father?” he asked aloud.
Caelan stared at him, not understanding what he meant and knowing he wasn’t supposed to.
Tirhin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps. He wants me to sell you to him for his own team.”
Caelan held his breath.
After a pause Tirhin laughed unpleasantly and gestured at an arena guard. “You, there. Have Orlo brought to me.”
In moments the trainer came running, still carrying his cattail club, his head bowed respectfully, his eyes shifting up in quick, furious glimpses at Caelan. “Yes, sir?”
“I have decided to take my property home to my own arena,” Tirhin said loftily.
“Yes, sir.” Again Orlo glanced at Caelan. His gaze could have frozen meat.
“My trainer doesn’t have time for additional men, especially new recruits as raw as this one. Yet I have seen courage today, and my property has acquitted himself well.”
“He fought better than I expected, sir.”
“I ask you to rejoin my service, Orlo,” the prince said. ‘To work as an assistant in my arena, but chiefly to train new recruits such as this, who need hours of basic drills. Will you consider it?”
Orlo bowed low, his face expressionless. “Your highness honors me,” he said in a toneless voice. “I will consider it.”
“Your answer tonight, or nothing,” the prince said. Giving them a general nod, Tirhin walked away with the imperial soldiers behind him.
As soon as he was out of sight, Orlo moved Caelan down the ramp and shoved him over into a corner out of everyone’s way.
“Are you mad?” he asked furiously. “What did you ask for?”
Caelan said, “To fight where I could win my freedom.”
Orlo’s anger didn’t soften. “Gault, you have the nerve. It’s a wonder the protector didn’t cut out your tongue.”
“It’s what I want,” Caelan said simply.
“A sane man would have asked for money or a dancing girl.”
Caelan raised his brows. “In a place like this, where would I put either?”
“Why your stupid games during training?” Orlo asked, with a rapid change of subject. “Why the fooling about, pretending you couldn’t fight? Did you think it would deceive your opponents?”
“I—” Caelan found himself without an answer he thought this man would understand, or accept. Since his beliefs were forbidden, it was impossible to explain.
“No, don’t tell me it was because I took your amulet away. I’ll never believe that.” Orlo snorted. “Your ruse worked, but don’t count on it again. Rumor spreads fast. They may not see the conflicts, those locked below, but they hear about them. You understand? Great Gault! You killed Amarouk, the best man in my barracks. The best! Do you know where that ranks you now?”
“Yes,” C’aelan said.
Orlo glared at him. “And me? Why me? Why the hell, after all this time, does Tirhin ask me to serve him again?” Orlo