The effort was taxing him mentally, and Rion had to stop every now and then just to clear the bad thoughts from his mind. The last thing he wanted to happen was to be discovered by one of the matriarchs out shopping this day. He wasn’t sure if he could go on any further, but the moment he rounded the bend in the avenue, he realized that the house of Duamuket was just ahead. Steeling himself, Rion continued onwards until he made it to the slightly opened front gate of the manse. A Watcher stood beside the entryway, leaning on spear for balance while he cleaned the dirt off his boots.
Rion was somewhat surprised to see a member of the City Watch stationed outside of the gate, but this was his only chance, and he needed to get inside. He strode up to the man, who didn’t seem to notice him. “Excuse me, may I ask what you are doing standing here?”
The Watcher put his foot down and looked at him disdainfully. He was a young man with deep set eyes. “Who are you?”
“My name is Piir,” Rion said. “Duamuket is my father, and he had sent me to the market in order to buy something for him. What is happening?”
“My superior is having a word with your father,” the Watcher said. “I think it is best if you return later.”
Rion shook his head. “I cannot, one of father’s friends asked me to relay a message to him so I must come inside and tell him.”
The Watcher seemed ready to hit him. “You insolent canis pup! Did you not hear a word I said?”
“My father knows a lot of people,” Rion said. “If you strike me, one of the nobles will hear of it. All I want to do is to go to my chambers and get some coin.”
The Watcher snorted in impatience. “Oh very well, go inside then.”
“My thanks,” Rion said as he slipped past him and entered the compound.
A group of servants had gathered in the outer courtyard and were glancing around nervously. A few of them turned to look at Rion in surprise as he passed them by, but they were too scared to call out. The boy noticed a side entrance and went inside the narrow doorway, passing through a kitchen before he made it into a narrow corridor. He knew that from studying the telling stones that most houses in Lethe followed a similar blueprint when it came to arranging the inner rooms. The main door to the house always had an anteroom before the great hall, which served as the prime room to meet others in all of the dwellings. Each house also had a study room, where all the records were kept in stone. He needed to find that room so that he could track down Miri’s whereabouts based on the records of her being sold. If he could just find out which master had purchased her, he would be able to plan the next step.
Moving silently along the edge of the passageway, Rion could see that the end of the corridor led to the main hall. He could hear people speaking. His curiosity piqued, the boy made his way to the edge of the corridor and stood behind the open entryway.
The first voice he heard had a desperate, pleading tone to it. “Please, Lord Falx. I do not know what it is that you want from me.”
“Do not play games with me, Duamuket,” the second, more commanding voice said. “I shall ask you again. Which family did you sell that Striga from the wastes to?”
Rion’s eyes widened. They were talking about Miri!
“I … I do not know what you mean.” Duamuket said. “I have not enslaved a Striga in the past five cycles. If you look at my records, it will state that all of my recent acquisitions make no such mention of it.”
“Damn your records!” Flax said. “Do you take me for a fool? I am well aware that you slavers alter your telling stones almost as much as the nobles do. You employ two scribes from the library for that very purpose. This is the last time I shall ask you, which house purchased the red-haired Striga?”
“I shall speak no more of this, Falx,” Duamuket said. “You are in my manse and you cannot command me this way. I have friends in this city you know … very powerful friends.”
Rion suddenly heard a movement and a loud, metallic crash. A scream of pain quickly followed.
The next voice was clearly still Duamuket’s, but it carried a tone of painful desperation with it. “Ahh! Falx, stop this! You are hurting me.”
Falx’s voice was filled with rage. “This sword will slice through your throat if you do not answer me with the truth this time! My blade cut Silqewe’s head off before he confessed to me he sold the woman and the boy over to you. Do you wish the same fate as him?”
“Alright! Please … just spare me!”
“Talk, then!”
Duamuket’s voice was blubbering. It was obvious he was weeping. “The … w-woman was sold t-to House Oranto as soon a-as the healers bore through her skull and removed her Vis. The b-boy was sedated with otus juice and sold to House Kentis. That … is all I know.”
Rion’s whole body shook with heartache and despair. They crippled Miri and took her mindsense away from her. His chin trembled. He wanted to cry, but he held back his tears.
“Oranto? They are but a minor house, why would they have wanted her?” Falx asked.
“I-I do not know,” Duamuket said. “Have you not heard of the new pit fighter they have?”
“The Red Gorgon? The one who has won five straight matches as of late? Is that her?”
“Y-yes,” Duamuket said. “They want to place her in the champion matches at the upcoming Great Games.”
“That cannot be done,” Falx said. “She needs to win at least twenty matches before she can even be considered .”
“House Oranto needs a new sponsor that will make the necessary bribes t-to place her in that league,” Duamuket said. “But another house is trying to sabotage their plans.”
“Which great house is against Oranto?”
“I-I cannot say, they will kill me … aargh!”
“Who, you fat fool? Tell me now, or my sword goes through your neck!”
“Aah! Alright, it is House Kentis!”
“As I suspected,” Falx said. “Which house stable will be facing the Oranto stable in the games?”
“I-I am not sure…”
“You know of this! I am well aware that you are part of the committee that oversees the Great Games. Which stable is it?”
“House Yidaar!” Duamuket said.
“Yidaar? I see. Are you on good terms with them?”
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“You will do the following,” Falx said. “You will go to the matriarch of House Oranto with an offer of sponsorship. Tell them to spare no expense to make sure that the Red Gorgon gets a champion level match in the Great Games.”
Rion grimaced. Miri would be fighting against the best opponents. What would they try to achieve with that?
“Who shall I state would be doing the sponsoring?” Duamuket asked.
“Tell them that House Aranida will cover their expenses during the entire run of the Great Games,” Falx said.
“That w-would be of a considerable expense,” Duamuket said. “Are you sure of this?”
“Yes,” Falx said. “Remember never to divulge what I have just said to anyone else. If I find out you have, I shall come back and cut your head off. Do we understand each other?”
“Y-yes.”
Rion had heard enough. The boy silently made his way back to the kitchens and out into the courtyard. One of the slaves that were standing outside pointed out to him and let out a low moan. The Watcher who had been standing at the gate came inside and noticed what had happened. Rion smiled at him as he approached.
The Watcher placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder to stop him from going through the gate. “Why is that slave gesturing at you?”
Rion glanced over at the group of slaves. “Oh, he is just reminding me that I have to see my father once I am done at the marketplace. Can I go now?”
The Watcher snorted in disgust while placing his hand back to his side. “Your father is quite cruel to cut off their tongues like that, one cannot even discern what they are saying.”
Rion fought off the urge to agree with him. “My father
is just being careful. I need to run an errand now.”
By the time he got back to the stall which sold the telling stones, Kardra and the two bodyguards were standing there with serious looks on their faces. Rion merely shrugged and told them that he visited the nearby latrines. Kardra had picked out a nice purple shawl from a clothier at the other side of the market. Rion had been given a small bag of coins by the matriarch for spending money, and since he hadn’t used any, there was enough gold to purchase the cloth without having to tap into the family accounts after all.
The walk back to the Kentis manse took less than an hour. Kardra couldn’t help but be relieved that they had returned on time and without incident. Acro was still having his way with the young slaves at the bordellos and would be returning to the compound that evening. The moment they stepped through the gates, they were told that the matriarch was away on business, taking much of the house staff with her. The news was a welcome relief for Rion.
Kardra took Rion’s cloak from him. “Come on upstairs. I will draw a bath and tell the scullery maids to cook dinner for you.”
Rion placed his arms behind his back and stretched. “I would like to play in the courtyard until dusk.”
Kardra nodded as she headed for the stairs. “Very well, Master Efrin. Do not take too long, for your bath will be ready soon.”
Instead of going into the rear courtyard, Rion made a detour along the side corridor and slipped through a twilit entryway. He had only been down here once before, and he wanted to have another look since the manse was mostly deserted until the matriarch returned. The dimness of the underground passageway was relieved somewhat by the occasional burning torch that hung along its smooth walls. The sloping corridor continued to descend and ultimately ended on a landing near a stairwell. Rion carefully made his way down the steps, making sure that his footing was light, for the echoes tended to reverberate more strongly in the subterranean part of the manse.
The stillness of the air was soon replaced by the sounds of running water. Rion had made it to the bottom of the carved steps and into the sunken caverns. It reminded him of a distant memory when he had ventured into a series of underground passageways with Miri. Mineral deposits had slowly hardened from the flows of water, and the air was muggy with vapor from the springs. Pale stalactites, as tall as the ceiling, would angle downwards in a cone-like funnel, the end products of countless eons of dripping calcifies. The pools of bubbling water on the floor had been buttressed with stone walls and now resembled wells. Artificial canals and aqueducts would channel the water into a nearby basin where the slaves would pour it into clay jars, to be sold to the thirsty residents of the city. This was where the real power of House Kentis lay.
The torches along the walls would occasionally flicker and sizzle as the moist air and the uneven drops of water would stifle their burning. A mechanical water wheel made of bone was at the far end of the stalactite gallery, its continuous turning a product of the best things that gold could buy. Looking down at the clear churning waters of a nearby pool, Rion couldn’t help but notice the luminescent network of undersea tunnels below. Hearing sounds of distant footsteps, Rion quickly dashed over behind a column-like stalactite for concealment. Within a matter of minutes, a figure came into view.
It was Laox, the matriarch’s second husband. Unlike the brutish, muscular first husband, Laox was bookish and thin. His pale skin was even whiter than the caves around him as he stepped daintily, making sure that he didn’t slip while traversing around a number of pools that honeycombed the floor. It seemed like he was looking for something.
Rion was intrigued. What was Laox doing down here? Only slaves would work by the springs. The boy continued to observe while staying hidden behind the stalactite.
Laox bent over and picked up what looked to be a fist-sized, calcified rock. Then he rubbed its surface a little before smashing it on the flat floor, revealing an obsidian telling stone underneath it. He stood up while looking at the glyphs on the rock before stowing it into the folds of his tunic. Using his other hand, Laox pulled out what looked to be a tiny leather pouch and placed a small telling stone into it. Then he placed the top part of the sack in front of his mouth and blew until it was swollen full of air. Carefully tying a leather string around it, he then placed the small bladder into a nearby pool. The pouch sunk about halfway before rapidly shooting through the small flooded tunnel.
Rion scowled. The air-filled purse was obviously meant to float above the water, but the telling stone inside would give it enough buoyancy to somewhat stay beneath the surface and travel along the underground stream. Looking at the stone plaque jutting from the side of the pool, it seemed that the destination of the secretive message would end up in a bathhouse at the merchant’s quarter.
Having placed the sac into the pool, Laox started making his way towards the stairwell. Rion was in a precarious position since the congealed pillar he was hiding behind was directly along the man’s path, and Laox would spot him the moment he turned around. There was no way around Laox’s field of view. He was trapped. With Laox’s footsteps coming ever closer, Rion did the first thing that came into his mind, he crouched down and faced the wall while pretending to fiddle with something on the ground.
The footsteps moved past him and abruptly stopped. “Efrin? What are you doing down here?”
Rion stood up and turned around. In his right hand was a small rock he had just picked up. The boy let out shameful grin. “Oh. Greetings, Laox. We had returned early from the marketplace, and since I had some time before dinner I decided to … go down here and search for some interesting stones. What brings you down here?”
Laox’s visage was a mixture of surprise and incredulity. “Did … you see me?”
The boy continued to beam. “I am partial to keeping secrets … if you are.”
“There are ways your mother could find out,” Laox said softly. “She is a Striga after all.”
“There are ways to hide things,” Rion said. “Even from Strigas.”
Laox’s eyes narrowed. He understood. “I … see. In that case, I owe you a favor.”
“The gods smile upon me then,” Rion said. “For I shall keep this favor in the folds of my tunic.”
Chapter 11
The Great Games were considered to be the grandest festival that Lethe ever had. The noble houses spared no expense at refurbishing the Central Arena, for this was the only time that it was ever used during the entire cycle. The freemen caste had been restless over the news of the tavern killings, and both the City Watch and the Magi Order agreed that providing free seating to even select slaves was important to restore calm among the populace. To make sure that it would be a commemoration worth remembering in the cycles to come, the major sponsors gave away huge stores of wine to make the celebrations even merrier. The beginning of each day would be marked by offerings at the temples of Vis, Janus the dual-faced god, and the sun god Elios- followed by the matches in the arena until dusk. Many people would stay up even until the wee hours of the morrow, happily drunk with free wine until the next day, when everything would occur anew all over again.
Miri had won her recent matches handily, gaining valuable experience each time. With each victory, more and more people began clamoring for the Red Gorgon, and she soon had a sizable following who would diligently attend her contests. In time, her ranking among the fighters grew and ever larger pits would be booked for her tournaments. Her injuries had been relatively minor, and Adaste’s healing poultices combined with her hardy constitution were effective in keeping her active. Now that the festival had begun, she would be showcased in front of the largest audience in her short career. If Rion was somewhere in the city, then perhaps she would get a chance to finally see him in the flesh once more.
Todrul stepped into the outer courtyard of the Oranto manse. The entire stable was gathered there, decked out in their varied armor. He looked at them mutely for a short while before making a loud whistle. “Alright, follow me to the a
rena. Keep together.”
Miri was standing at the front ranks, beside Korbius. They were both considered to be the top fighters of the Oranto stable. She adjusted her mask, making sure the new leather straps would stay in place. Breathing through the metal guise had been difficult at first, but she had slowly gotten used to it. She noticed Korbius giving her a dirty look before they all began to move. She had been able to gain everyone’s respect but his, so she needed to keep her guard up in case he tried anything.
A hand touched her elbow. Miri turned to her left. It was Adaste the healer with a smile on her face. “May the gods grant you luck, Miri,” she said. “I shall meet you later at the barracks beneath the arena.”
Miri just nodded as she walked away along with the rest of the stable. Adaste and the other house servants that had gathered waved their goodbyes, knowing that many of the fighters would not be returning once the festivities were finished.
The walk to the Central Arena took close to an hour. The pit fighters were pelted with small pebbles along the route, signifying luck. A few children would scurry alongside the more popular fighters, and over a dozen little ones scampered around Miri. Todrul led the way, flanked by a ceremonial guard of the City Watch. Bystanders cheered them on as the group soon converged with pit fighters from the other stables until they formed a long parade of colorful battlers making their way to the biggest venue of all. Miri noticed the fighters of House Yidaar giving her particular attention as they kept moving ever closer to the arena.
Todrul could sense the animosity coming from the other stable as he slowed his steps until he ended up walking beside her. “Pay them no mind. No one is allowed to fight during the procession,” he whispered in Miri’s ear. “The penalty is death for the fighters and dishonor for the house that sponsored them.”
City of Delusions (The Dying World Book 2) Page 16