It took me two whole streets from Dwim’s shop to notice the guards. None approached, but the tension in them was unmistakably directed at me.

  Irritation swelled again, sprinkled with a dash of humor. I’d been heading back to my room, but now I was tempted to take a few hasty detours and shake them. I considered it for a few seconds before hunger won out, and I kept to my path.

  Three more streets and Captain Estwin made an appearance, marching toward me at speed with a face full of thunder. ”Earl!”

  “Estwin?”

  He was slowing now, like a wind-up toy that had run out of wind. “Where have you been? You should have told someone you were heading out.”

  “Didn’t realize you expected me too. I’ve sat in that room for days on end with no one coming to see me, so it seems a bit rich you want a running fucking itinerary for my movements.”

  “No, you don’t, but you could have at least informed the corridor guard.”

  “Didn’t want to wake him,” I replied nonchalantly.

  Reading the emotions of others was never one of my strong points, but I knew anger when I saw it. Judging from the slight bulge in Estwin’s eyes, his internal Anger-o-meter had just gone into the danger zone. For some reason, I knew it wasn’t directed entirely at me.

  “So, where have you been?”

  “The Grunir’s shop to get some new gloves.” I stuck my fists up to show off my new wears.

  He nodded appreciatively at them, then glanced and my boots and relaxed. “I see… Has anyone tried to attack you? Have you had any issues?”

  “Nope. Pretty straightforward walk there. Everybody’s left me alone. I went in and chatted with the Grunir for a bit, purchased what I needed, and now here we are.”

  He seemed to relax. “That’s good. I’m glad you’re safe and well. We’ve had word back from House Besas. They’re sending a delegation tomorrow. Obviously, they’ll question you, but we’re not expecting any issues with that. Hopefully, offers will be made that the Monarch can actually accept.”

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  “Oh joy,” I replied, looking past his shoulder toward the entrance to the arena.

  Noticing my look, he smiled. “Are you heading back now?”

  “Sure am. I’m hoping to get in some training before lunch.”

  “I’ll walk back with you.”

  I shrugged, accepting the company. A few minutes of awkward silence stretched between us before Estwin finally spoke again.

  “You don’t seem to enthused with the potential Archon offer. It’s a great honor. If you are selected by them and there’s potential to move from arena to military service. Even for an outsider such as yourself.”

  I looked over at him like he’d just shat a stick of dynamite. “Now why the fuck would I want to go and do a thing like that? I’ll stick to fighting in a circle of mud, blood and glory, and hopefully a decent wedge of cash. I’ve got no fucking interest in fighting someone else’s fight. Probably getting paid peanuts to boot. Plus those Archons look like a right set of pompous bastards. In fact, I’ll tell you now. I have no interest in taking that offer.”

  Estwin groaned, and shook his head. “Why am I not surprised you’d cause trouble with this too? You realize they can back you better than anyone else.”

  “Better than this mystery buyer?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “Are you sure about that? Because if I had to guess—and mind you, this is without a single number to work with—I’d bet the Archons already have fighters. A lot of them. Would I be their top pick? Or just another body buried in the masses? How much effort are they really going to put into getting me where I need to be, compared to my mystery buyers?”

  He made to answer, but I stopped him with a hand. “It’s a rhetorical question because we both already know the answer. The Archons might be able to spend 10 million Unitols on me, but they won’t because my level looks shit.”

  “Yes, but you would grow. You’d build up, and in time, if you have as much potential as the Able—and in some respects as much as I think you have, then in time—you would get that money spent on you. You would get the items you require. You would become...”

  “Time, Estwin. I’m an impatient man. I don’t want to fucking wait on the whims of golden armored arseholes.”

  He sighed. “I understand. But you need to be careful, Earl. I doubt anybody else is going to come in for you with the political awkwardness of the situation. We all know the mystery buyer is the Siroth, if not directly than though their networks. And then with the Archons involved…”

  He left the thought hanging as we arrived at my room.

  “I’ll give it some thought. For now, there must be an idea of who I’m fighting next. When do you think I’ll get the dossier?”

  “There’s still another two fights left. Once they’re finished, the last 16 will be drawn. I’ll make sure you get it as soon as we know.”

  “Great. And my fingers?” I said, waving my hands.

  “I will mention it again to the Able. He is busy at the moment with the tournament in full swing and quite depleted in mana, but he hasn’t forgotten about you.”

  I gave him a dubious look and then retreated into my room.

  Book 2 Bulwark of Hatred is starting today.