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Dragon's Tale 62
🕑 Added 2021-11-27 05:38:19 +0000 UTCHalf an hour after the failed ambush of the famous Bestiaries Gladiator school, I was escorted into a room by four guards, waiting for the arrival of the master of the school in isolation.
I wasn’t literally locked, of course. No, that would have been tasteless after such a spectacular victory. Instead, I was gently led into one of the best-furnished rooms in the complex, the table piled with some of the most expensive food I ever had the opportunity to consume — falling significantly short against the dishes I enjoyed last night, but being lesser when compared to a patrician house was to be expected — accompanied by a large pitcher of chilled wine.
Still, even with all the luxury, it didn’t change the fact that I was temporarily imprisoned. A comfortable prison, but still a prison for the moment. If I tried to leave the room, I would be gently discouraged, and if I tried to insist… Well, it was a door best left locked as well, at least for the moment.
Interestingly, I wasn’t sure limiting my mobility was the only reason, or even the main one. The room I was currently being, well, let’s say rested, was in the dead center of the school complex. Hard to escape, of course, but there were other, less expensive ways of achieving that.
For defensibility, it was the perfect solution.
I couldn’t help but think that, if weighed on a metaphorical scale, the second reason would have prevailed with a wide margin. Otherwise, the patrolling guards — far too many for this time of day — wouldn’t have been observing the walls with rapt attention.
I leaned back in my plush chair, my eyes closed, not willing to waste even a second of resting opportunity after the day — and the night — I had.
I deserved my rest, in every shape and form.
When I opened my eyes again, the sun was much higher in the sky, indicating almost hours had passed, giving me the time I needed to rest. It was the sounds of several sets of footsteps that pulled me out of my rest.
So, when the door opened, and Master Antonius, the owner of the school, and technically, my owner, walked inside. He was dressed to impress, though not the usual noble way. The cut reminded me of a gladiator, but no gladiator would wear silk-linen blend dyed in a particularly expensive coloring, the kind that would cost a decade of a normal legionaries’ salary just for a small bottle.
Whatever meeting he had been just coming from, it was clearly important, with an audience higher than his peers.
“Lanista,” I said, standing up and nodding, showing respect, but I was deliberate in my show. It wasn’t disrespectful, but only technically so, skirting the limit of scandalous. If someone else was in the room, it was enough to start some pretty dangerous gossip.
But Antonius just nodded before taking a seat, gesturing me to sit as well. However, he was unable to prevent his eyebrows from rising, indicating shock.
His surprise was understandable, as while my earlier disrespect could be seen as naked arrogance after my victory, it was actually careful signaling. The Dacian school was clearly going through a dangerous challenge, even bigger than I had first assumed. If I had known in the beginning, I would have just stayed away rather than taken the risk, but since I was already in the middle of my dangerous heist, I had no option but to continue.
My calculated show of limited respect was me saying that I was aware of the current value I had represented to the school, especially after ‘helping’ the poor Bestiary School for containing their precious animal after its rider died in an unfortunate accident, before the beast turned into a disaster for Rome, killing many of its citizens.
I didn’t need any information to know that was how they had framed the event, to prevent it from splashing back to the other Gladiatorial schools.
“You’re filled with surprises for a barbarian,” he said after a moment of silence as he watched me sipping wine, like we were two friends hanging around. His expression was calm, but his gaze was cold, telling me that he would remember my impunity.
I shrugged. “It’s interesting how you Romans think that everyone living outside your ‘glorious’ city is a bunch of savages that can’t string two words together,” I said, letting the fake accent I had been using all the while I was being trained disappear. Not completely, of course, as I still needed to sell a character.
“I see,” he said, his face tense as he realized he had been being played by one of his slaves. Certainly not a nice realization for a prideful person, even a logical one like Antonius.
I had no doubt that I would have received several lashes for such disrespect at a minimum, maybe even sold to a salt mine for a — short — life of hard labor as punishment, if I hadn’t just made myself the most valuable face of the school.
He needed my cooperation desperately, and revealing he had a real opponent rather than an ignorant barbarian was the only way to conduct those activities effectively.
“How did you end up in here, if you’re much smarter than even a Roman?” he said with an insulting tone, but his eyes stayed cold. “And why don’t just escape?”
I chuckled at his attempt at angering me. Though I accepted his compliment at my intelligence smoothly, selling my arrogance as well, giving him the hope that he could manipulate me easily. “What else, jealousy and betrayal, of course. Do you think those two flaws just belong to glorious Roman citizens?” I smirked. “And about why I didn’t escape…” I said, letting my words fade as I pulled my chest, showing the stamp that was supposed to be cursed, then gestured to the table. “I definitely prefer eating good food and fucking the wives of Senators to being hunted like a dog.”
Another little trick, revealing my hedonistic desires. Giving him another easy tool to bargain.
“I see,” Antonius said. “And what would you say if I tell you there are several noble families already interested to buy you as a guard?” His smug smirk showed that he already had the perfect way to assault.
“Let me guess, by a pure coincidence, those houses are all ruled by rich widows, but by varying age.”
“Exactly,” he said with a smirk. “Interesting that some of those widows, despite having some pretty hefty estates, are in their early twenties, and famed for their beauty, and others pushing for their second century.”
I made a show of shivering in horror. “And I’m guessing the old ones are offering much more money.”
“Exactly,” Antonius said, his smirk widening like he had caught my weakest point. I let him think that.
I said nothing for a moment, grabbing a knife to cut a large piece of meat from the lamb leg, still warm thanks to the runes around the tray, keeping the food at the perfect temperature. I chewed calmly, making a show of stealing time.
Antonius just sipped his wine, confident that he had already caught my weakness. Despite my earlier display, his prejudices were still intact. He had just elevated me from a barbarian to a smart barbarian, fascinated by the great decadence of Roman society.
Admittedly, he wasn’t wrong. The luxury of Rome was nothing like I had ever tasted before, so much that, without the deadly threat of the transformation threatening my whole being, I might actually have considered sinking into the mediocrity of shadow-managing one of the smaller noble houses.
But no, with the constant battle against my mysterious affliction, it was hardly an option.
“And if I were to take a wild guess, there’s a small chance you might have a small problem, that if solved, might make the difference between two offers trivial.”
“What a coincidence,” Antonius said, his smile getting wider. “That’s exactly the case. I’m facing a small problem.”
“In the arena?”
“Partially,” Antonius answered. “Though there are some other little things a young successful warrior seeking a challenge might be interested in.”
To his credit, even as I made a show of thinking, he didn’t burst into threats. He was smart enough to know not all threats needed to be spoken, especially gauche ones like torture and dismemberment.
Working with a professional was always a pleasure. Even better when the professional was convinced that he was holding all the cards that matter.
“A challenge?” I asked, dipping my head to the side.
“Something to be spoken later,” he said. “Let’s enjoy the food for now.”
And just like that, the tense meeting turned into a calm feast, at least on the surface. It was still subtle posturing, especially for me, doing my best to show the correct eating ethics of the Roman elite, but mixing enough mistakes in terms of nuance that I was an observant barbarian, but not as observant as I was thinking.
It was a difficult rope to walk, but his expression didn’t give any indication of noticing anything unfitting.
Though, I wasn’t the only one posing. At this point, Antonius didn’t need to spend an hour feasting with me, not when he was trying to manage a big crisis. He was clearly trying to signal that whatever emergency crisis he had been dealing with was resolved, which made it even more obvious that it wasn’t the case.
The crisis he had been facing was still burning bright, enough to force him to bargain with one of his slaves.
