by David Burke
Kyle had been shocked to see some of the disparities between his old world and this new one. It was funny, because he had always been a fourteen to sixteen hours a day hard working kind of guy. He didn’t find fault with it, but he also didn’t like to see a few entitled trust fund types reap the rewards for the labor of the many.
For him, it had been lawyers, agents, ad executives, stockbrokers, and team owners who epitomized those who lived off the work of others. The irony had never been lost on him, that no matter how hard he actually worked, it was still all centered around playing a game. All those other people made lots of money because he could play a children’s game so well.
Enough of that, though. Kyle was not about to go changing society. Live and let live, that had been his motto. Or rather, kill those who got in your way. Albeit, the latter ethos was most likely from those parts of Krig that lingered in Kyle.
He did know that slavery disgusted him. It was easy for him to take being a slave lightly. He was confident that, magical binding bracers or not, he could escape whenever he wanted. Not everyone had that luxury, though, and this added to the generally poor opinion he had of the nobles he had met so far. It left him less than anxious to meet with Lady Meeka Avarda.
He thought about his other relationships. Hilde and he were still getting along. She seemed content with the training he was undergoing and continued helping him learn more about controlling essence, although there hadn’t been any more breakthroughs of late.
Kierra had become his favorite sparring partner. Her style was the opposite of his, and it forced him to work on his control and speed. She was more talkative than she had been in the past, often coming over to sit next to him when he least expected it. Kyle chalked it up to her being grateful for ending up in better circumstances, and the hope he had given her about an eventual escape.
The odd thing, was that no matter how much she liked to talk about them breaking free, she never seemed to want to talk about what she would do after they parted ways. It was just more proof to him that he needed to learn how to form real relationships. So, he focused on becoming a better listener.
It was a new thing for him, but he was getting better at it.
Gilthan never had any problems with him just listening. The elf was still arrogant, but didn’t mind regaling Kyle with stories of his life before being captured. Although he was from a different elven village than Nyda, it still helped Kyle learn more about what elven life was like, outside of Thena.
That had been his original reason for listening to the sorcerer, but Kyle was surprised to find he genuinely liked Gilthan. The elf might be a bit rough around the edges, but for all his late-night partying and sleeping in, the elf worked hard when he trained, and he was willing to put his life on the line for his friends. Besides, Kyle figured if anyone was rough around the edges, it was him.
The person that he had hoped to listen to the most, though, was Marie, but she had very little to say to him outside of their time training. She got upset if he called her anything other than Lash, and while she made jokes with Kierra, Gilthan and even on occasion Skrug, she was only ever the cold professional with Kyle.
This, of course, prompted Hilde to trust Marie even less. What it didn’t change was the attraction that Kyle had for the woman. She was an amazing warrior and he knew there was much she could teach him. There was also that strange resonance between the two of them. He could feel strands of essence flow from him into her at times and once or twice, he almost felt an echo come back to him. Most of the time, though, it was like shouting into a vast cavern—one so wide that the echo never returns.
He told himself that the appeal had nothing to do with the fact that she was gorgeous and didn’t mind showing off her amazing body. He was becoming a better man, after all. Whether he ended up with Hilde, Nyda, Lash or even Kierra was still to be decided, so for now he was content to take things slowly, just trying to get to know them better. Although he almost did a double take inside his head, when he realized he hadn’t intended to add Kierra to that list.
Hmm… apparently, he had more to think about than he had realized.
Lash’s voice snapped him out of his own thoughts. “Okay, you should know a couple of things before we go inside.”
Kyle realized that they were close to the mansion now and he must truly have been lost in thought to not notice just how close they had gotten. He turned his head towards Lash while they continued walking.
“This would all be easier if we could talk about us,” he said. “I’m not saying you have to treat me as him, though, and I certainly don’t want to take responsibility for the way that he hurt you. I’m my own man, err… god, or whatever.”
Lash cut him off emphatically, “Shh… don’t talk about that out here. You never know who is listening.”
Kyle stutter stepped in shock. Was that why she’d been so standoffish? Was she trying to protect him? The mystery that was Lash just got deeper, but he decided to heed her advice.
Hilde chimed in, “Even the faithless whore makes a good point every now and again.”
Kyle chose to ignore Hilde’s snarky comment and focused on his conversation with Lash. “Okay, point taken. But we need to talk about this. You can’t keep avoiding me.”
“First off, you are a slave. Second, I’m your trainer.” Her lips pressed into a thin line and her gaze narrowed. “I can do whatever I damn well please,” Lash snapped back, a bit louder than she intended.
He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow before replying, “Really? Is that where you want to go with this?”
Her face softened. “No. Well… maybe, but… no. I don’t know,” she growled in frustration. Her hands shook and she clenched them into fists. “You don’t know what happened after you disappeared. Dod’s ass, you aren’t even you, or at least not the you that I knew. So… no, I’m not ready to talk about such things.”
“Fine. But I can’t help if you won’t talk to me,” Kyle said.
“What makes you think I want your help, anyways?”
Kyle decided this was one of those times when less was more. He just walked beside her, not responding.
Lash mumbled, “At least you are learning his aptitude for silence.”
Shaking her head, she stopped him. “Now, here is what you need to know. Lady Meeka isn’t what she seems. I don’t know what she is, but for the love I bore my former Master, be careful. She is eager to see this team win, but there is more to it than that.”
“Right. Be careful while I’m bound in magical shackles, in a world full of people who would try to kill me if they knew I was back, all while continuing to play the role of slave gladiator. Check. I would never have guessed,” he whispered.
“Sarcasm is such a petty response. He never did that.” Then, without waiting for a reply, she opened the door to the mansion.
The guards all nodded and let them pass.
Kyle followed her up a wide staircase, taking in the decor. It was tastefully ornate, with marble floors, thick rugs, rich tapestries, and crystal chandeliers. It all screamed opulence and wasn’t shy about flaunting it. At the same time, though, nothing was garish. It was all just really well made and had the feel of having been here for a while. So… old money, not just up and coming nouvea riche. That was something Kyle would have to keep in mind when negotiating.
Once they reached a door on the second floor that again had guards before it, Lash came to a stop.
“Lady Meeka is expecting him,” she announced.
“Yes, but we still have to check him for weapons,” one of the guards said.
Kyle chuckled and said, “I am the weapon.”
The guard’s face blanched but he still reached out and patted down Kyle’s massive form. For his part, Kyle couldn’t help laughing inside—though he did his best to keep it from showing on his face. It would totally ruin the intimidating vibe he was going for and it wasn’t like having some dude run his hands all over him
put him in a good mood.
When the pat down headed for a more sensitive area, Kyle growled. “Watch where you put that hand. The only weapon in there has never killed anyone.”
The guard opened the door and looked into the room. Kyle heard a feminine voice say, “Oh come now, Lady Warbond is with him and if he wanted to hurt Lady Meeka, I’m sure that there isn’t a thing you could do about it.”
The guard blushed but let them pass.
As Kyle walked into the room, he noted a small table set up with a tea service on it. There were two chairs positioned around the table, and in the far chair sat Lady Meeka Avarda. She had her long blond hair up in an intricate set of braids that managed to look both exotic and practical at the same time. She wore a long, blue dress which again, both set off her features and looked comfortable.
Standing behind her was a woman in the pink and silver robes that he had come to associate with Priestesses of Begaer, the goddess of lust—his deranged sister, or at least she had been Krig’s deranged sister. He wasn’t sure if, with his reincarnation as the god of war, that made her his sister now, too. Kyle filed into the room.
The presence of the priestess prompted Hilde to warn him, “Be careful.”
He quickly responded inside his head, “Let me know if you sense her using any essence.”
Lady Meeka remained seated and said, “Thank you for bringing him, Lash. I can’t wait to see for myself all the amazing things you have said about his fighting ability. Then again, watching him during the Aekor attack on the stadium, was thrilling in and of itself.”
Kyle was immediately on guard when he heard her words. No one else he had spoken with had known what the creature Hilde killed had been, and that alone was cause enough for concern. He supposed she might have some source of intelligence he did not and it had been two weeks ago. He supposed a noble with resources might have learned much in that time.
Meeka looked back at the priestess and then over at Lash. “Dearest Lash, will you please give Sister Regina here a tour of our training facilities? I think she will find that most interesting and, since the two of you have already met, you can catch up on old times.”
Whatever remnant of a connection existed between Kyle and Lash was completely suffused with an overwhelming feeling of terror. Enough so that he shifted his position so that he could check on Lash, who was behind him and to his left, without making it obvious. Whatever terror she was feeling, she kept it well contained.
He could see a tightness around her eyes, and one hand was clenched slightly tighter than it should have been, but only an expert might detect those things. Kyle had trained himself to observe tiny details in how a pitcher held themselves from ninety feet away. Up close, such minute details jumped out at him, especially since first Saber and then Lash, had continued to drill him on the value of perception.
The priestess laughed a rich, sultry laugh, “Oh yes, we were the best of friends not that long ago. I so appreciate the opportunity to catch up.” The priestess seemed to almost glide across the floor as she caught Lash’s arm in hers. “Please, show me everything,” she said.
Clearly reluctant to be so close to the woman, Lash was either too much of a professional—or too afraid of her—to pull away. She nodded to Lady Meeka and then led the priestess back out the door. Kyle noticed that the priestess nodded at the two guards who had come into the room and signaled for them to leave, as well.
Which meant, of course, that he was left all alone in the room with Meeka.
Kyle realized that there was more at play here than was obvious, but he didn’t yet understand all the variables. Hitting homeruns was his specialty, not puzzling out mysteries. He took a moment to examine the room. There was a couch along the wall to his right. Twin glass doors opened up onto a second story balcony that had a magnificent view of the vineyards. To his left sat a large desk, with stacks of paper covering much of its surface and a comfortable chair tucked behind it.
“Well? Aren’t you going to come sit?” Meeka asked him as she waved to the chair opposite her across the small table.
Jay noticed that she was the first noble not to refer to him as ‘slave’ or ‘gladiator’ or to use some other such label. He smiled and walked over to sit in the chair, saying, “As you wish.”
He purposely left off any honorific, to see how she would react.
She didn’t ignore the slight, nor did she react poorly to it, which he had figured were the two most likely reactions. Instead, she laughed. It was a rich, musical sound that displayed genuine mirth.
“Lash is right. You are going to be a handful.” Then she smiled at him in a more intimate way. “Maybe more than a handful.”
Kyle didn’t know how to respond.
She shook her head and waved a hand, sweeping the moment away. With a shrug, she said, “You will have to excuse me. Sometimes old habits die hard.”
Chapter 3 - New Owners, New Rules
Kyle didn’t know what to make of that statement. That didn’t mean, of course, that he didn’t understand when he was being set up for something. He was fairly confident that everything that had happened since he had arrived at the door to this room had been choreographed to create a specific impact on him.
He just didn’t know why Lady Meeka, a rich and powerful noblewoman and head of one of the richer houses in Thena, would be going to all this trouble to make an impression on a slave. The nobles he had seen thus far didn’t think much of slaves, and even if Meeka was better than them, he couldn’t believe she was that different. Then there was the matter of what she could possibly expect to accomplish with this.
Kyle finally said, “I fear you have me at a disadvantage, because I know very little about you.”
She set her teacup down and smiled. “On that score, I think we are more even than you suggest. I have inquired, but no one seems to know anything about you—not where you came from, who you are, or really much at all about your kind. As far as the people I have enquired with know, you simply appeared in Thena only a few days before you joined the arena.”
“Joined the arena? You mean before I was attacked and taken there as a slave,” Kyle rebutted. He was in no mood for word games, but he could play them if he had to.
“Oh, it is six of one or half a dozen of the other. I know how you treated my guards when they came to escort you to the estate. I know you don’t consider yourself to be my property, and feel you could leave anytime that you wanted to,” Meeka said as she leaned forward to set her elbows upon the table. She stared intently at him.
Taken back for a minute by her bold statement, Kyle finally said, “And you wish to disabuse me of that notion?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps we can come to a new arrangement. By the laws of this nation, you most certainly are mine, every bit as much my property as that chair you are sitting in. And you really have no more rights than it does. But I’ll admit to being a rather new owner, and we need to decide just what our relationship will be,” Lady Meeka said.
He didn’t need the warning from Hilde to know that there was a subtle essence pouring out of her. It was far more refined and delicate than what Lady Sorengaard had attempted. That had been a baseball bat, whereas this was more like a gentle spring breeze. He felt the essence wash over him and realized that she was only trying to influence him to hear her words in a more favorable light.
He was able to resist it, even though it was more insidious than if she had just come straight at him. But it left him with a decision to confront her about it or to change the subject. There was an urge within him to blindly rush forward into battle.
Even though the weapons were words, Kyle had no doubt that this was a battle.
“What was the priestess of Begaer doing here?” Kyle changed the topic.
Meeka smiled at him. It was a warm smile that promised secrets to share. More importantly, it reached her eyes and lit up her face. Either she was an exceptionally good actress or she was genuinely pleased to
be asked the question.
“It is always good to cultivate the favor of the gods, or maybe I should say their churches, since the gods care little for the affairs of mortals. Besides, it was a gift to you. I thought it would be beneficial for you to see the close relationship between the priestess and your mentor,” Meeka replied.
Kyle thought about that for a moment before changing the topic back to their original subject. “And just what kind of relationship are you proposing that we have?”
She clapped her hands and said, “There it is, right to the point, but I think you see more than I gave you credit for. This is truly a delight. I saw how strong you are at the arena but knowing that you aren’t just a mindless brute makes this so much more enjoyable. First though, tell me this: Is it true that you are Krig’s son?”