A/N: Was gonna involve Seren and Drakon a lot more... but well, this chapter had a mind of its own. They don't even get to show up, damn it all. On the bright side, more character development? Aaaaaarrrrgh, I was really looking forward to having Seren and Aisha interact on page finally, too. Gonna have to push that for a later date.
Soft knock sounded against the door, prompting Lord Luces Froder to look up from the documents he was reading. Late afternoon hours left his office bathed in warmth, and as a man of refined tastes, he rather enjoyed the atmosphere. Even if the heat was beginning to get a little overwhelming, and the aching wound under the bandage could use it if he exposed to the sun a little less.
"Come on in," he ordered, tired, but pride would never let him show it. Not with his family name and business on the line.
The past week, however, had been incredibly exhausting. Lady Maader claimed there was nothing that could push her plans astray, but for all her smarts, the woman could be embarrassingly short-sighted. Froder wished he could've pointed it out for her before she wasted money on a lousy tavern, but he owed her at least the benefit of the doubt. So he thought, perhaps, his youngest brother could gather information from the location directly.
Fast forward a few days, his brother and his aide had been found decapitated in the back streets of Napolia, the owner of the tavern that was supposed to be safe had been taken into custody under suspicion for murdering some Napolian noblewoman and a pair of thieves had broken dozens of his slaves out in the middle of the night.
If Lord Froder wasn't absolutely certain that he had Lady Nadia of the Turbulent Seas eating from his hand, this would've had the Tridents written all over it.
But Lady Nadia would not cross him, she would lose too much if she did something dumb like that, which meant somebody within her ragtag bunch of pirates had a rebellious streak and strong enough a following to pull it off against their leader's better judgement. Or alternatively, it wasn't the Tridents at all. Ah, would've been great, if life were so easy. One thief they'd captured not only had the guts and knife skills to back it up, she had the elaborate trident tattooed on her skin. If he didn't know Lady Nadia had enough issues keeping her head afloat, he would've executed the dumb child already. But no, this had the Tridents trademarked style all over it, but the only thing it told him was that there was discord within those crazy pirate ranks. And it wouldn't be the first time.
Better make sure half of Remano isn't caught up in it this time.
Or at least, keep his company out of it, even if he had to do it by the skin of his teeth. The Tridents were destructive at best. So if he had no better option, he would sink all of them, in one go. Shame, really, because Nadia showed promise—
Anyway. There were more important business to take care of now. He nodded at the attendant that stepped into his office, scroll in one hand, bloodied dagger he'd stolen from the thief in the other. "What do you have for me?"
"Plenty, my lord. But first, messengers have been dispatched, but Lady Nadia claims she cannot come for another day. Demands we keep the girl alive, until she comes to see her personally."
Froder scowled deeply, but nodded. "Understandable, and expected. But she better not hope we keep her unscathed. This matter is obviously connected to my brother's untimely demise. I want heads rolling."
"Of course, my lord," his attendant said. "Speaking of, we have finally confirmed the identity of our prisoner. She used to work as a prostitute in a small tavern in Napolia."
"A prostitute?" Froder cut him off. "You mean to tell me that the bitch who broke into my house and has ties to my brother's demise is no more than a worthless whore?"
The attendant tensed, and Froder reined his temper in. This wasn't getting him anywhere. With the Tridents, the girl could've been an eight-year-old slave and it would make no difference. "Keep going," he said.
The attended nodded. "Um, name is Aisha, and she works in Lady Maader's chosen tavern, has been there for about a year. But according to our sources, she took another girl from the tavern and a newly-bought slave, and ran for it. Nobody in there has heard of her since."
And naturally they wouldn't, when she clearly made her way to Remano straight, Froder noted. He snorted. "This isn't the first I hear that name. And there is no doubt about it — the slave is that thieving little brat. I am going to have a word with Lady Maader, I left the girl to her to handle, not some crazy bigot in Napolia, But this Aisha girl is more important now. What do know about her?"
The attendant cleared his throat, conflicted expression on his face. Froder could already feel the headache building.
"We… we know a lot, my lord," the man said, nervously. "Your theory about the discord within the pirates? It may actually be correct."
The attendant glanced at his paper once, before glancing back at his lord. Brought his gaze down almost immediately. Fear seemed to overtake him. Frequent, when the news he brought meant nothing good. But Lord Froder really didn't have the patience for that now.
"May?" he pressed. "Explain."
The attendant swallowed thickly. "There are rumors that, three years ago, a pirate by the name Aisha led a small rebellion. Just around the time the Tridents arrived in the Capital." Sweat began to form at his brow, as Froder gestured for him to continue. "According to my sources, that information is false. But there was indeed a conflict going on between Lady Nadia and another one of the Trident's prominent figures. Conflict of goals, of a kind. A faction within the pirate ranks appeared, one that supported this Aisha girl's intentions over their Lady's. They went so far as to claim Lady Nadia stole the leadership from this girl."
"Ah, yes, I remember that," Froder said. "Several of our fellowmen lost their homes at the time. All because two bitchy girls wouldn't talk to each other." The notion that the power struggles within the pirates fell on the back of two teenage girls would've been far more entertaining, if it didn't fall in line with exactly the things Froder himself had heard. Lady Nadia hadn't been very forthcoming with details when he'd asked, so he had to resort to some less direct sources. And that had been quite a story. Worth any coin he'd paid for it.
"Right, my lord. But this Aisha girl never stepped up as the opposition and the conflict quieted down without ever being resolved. Disappeared from Remano soon afterwards, to reappear in Napolia about a year ago. Stayed in touch with some of her old Trident friends, asked for assistance on occasion. Perhaps it was our bad luck that Lady Maader sent Mel into that tavern. We agreed with her proposition, but we never accounted for the possibility one of the girls there would be such a passionate freedom fighter."
Froder rubbed his aching temples. He really, really needed to have a word with Lady Maader. If he left her a slave to draw information from, that did not mean he approved of any further delegation. Mel had been an iffy problem to handle from the start. Now, the existence of his very company depended on her. And he had a feeling he knew exactly what that wooden box had held.
If I'm right, the papers I've been desperately looking for for months had been under my nose from the very beginning.
What was worse, that girl was free, and gone, again, and this time truly in possession of papers that could destroy everything he'd worked so hard to build. If those papers ended up in the wrong hands, not only would he lose both his company and his head, half Reim's economy would crumble.
"Please, tell me, what do we know? What does any of this have to do with my brother's death?" he demanded. His brother had been an idiot, a spoiled idiot, but he would not get himself recklessly killed. And neither Mel or Aisha seemed to have the kind of capacity needed to behead a man. Which either meant the idiot had gone and gotten himself drunk in a ditch somehow. Or there was somebody else he needed to look out for.
His attendant frowned, bowed his head. "Sincere apologies. We have yet to make a connection, my lord. But we do know that he had changed the trip's objective when he'd learned of Mel's location. Apparently, he managed to track her further after her escape to…" frowning, he shifted through the set of papers, until he found the right one. "Yes, my lord. Your lord and brother tracked Mel down to Sindria company."
"And died for it," Froder concluded. Fixed his shirt, and stood up. "Which means, our thief may know who is responsible for this. And moreover, she knows where our little rat has hidden. Give the order, we're not waiting for Lady Nadia anymore. I want information out of that whore even if that means spilling her guts on the ground, or tearing the nails from her fingers. I don't care how much she suffers. Just make sure she stays alive to wait for her judgement."
"Yes, my lord!"
Cold, Mel thought. Like the winters back north, except no amount of huddling under the blanket seemed to help. Wounds on her back burned, and she couldn't even lie down on anything but her side. Couldn't sleep anymore, even if Sinbad and Ja'far had went out of their way cover her window and keep the sunlight out. Nothing helped.
Vittel stepped inside, with a smile and a tray. "I brought you tea, and some herbs. How are you?"
"Fine," Mel ground out through her teeth. Sat up, to finish the tea in a couple gulps. Vittel didn't look all to impressed. Not that she cared. "What are we doing? What is the plan? Why are we going to Ria Venus?"
"For now, we rest—"
"But Aisha—"
"Is going to be safe," he insisted. Mel didn't understand how he could. She'd told them everything, and they still thought it was going to be fine? Fine enough that Sinbad had just picked them up and dropped them on a ship to Ria Venus? It didn't make sense!
"Sin's gladiator match is getting more attention than we thought it would," Vittel said. "I don't like it, but he's right, and that is the best time for us to strike. To do that, Ja'far and I are going to need your help."
"Of course," Mel agreed immediately. "Anything—"
"You're not letting Sin out of your sight," Vittel said.
And Mel blinked up at him. Ran the words through her own tongue, and frowned. "I don't understand. Sinbad, he… he knows how to fight?"
Vittel grinned ruefully. "Well, if this were a contest of strength, I'd agree with you in a heartbeat. But after seeing her face…" he shook his head. "That woman, Maader, she's got something set up, I'm sure. Just in case, we want you to keep an eye on Sin."
Slowly, Mel nodded. "I only met that woman once…" The memory sent shudders down her spine, and she hugged her shoulders. "Her children love her," she managed. "I don't know why, she's scary and she's evil, but the kids like her… and she treated me better than my master, so maybe that's why, but she scares me. But I'll try. Just… get Aisha out of there."
Vittel dropped his hand on top of her head, and ruffled it. "You're one brave girl, you know that?"
Burying her face in the blanket, Mel snorted. If she thought hiding would help keep the tears at bay, she was wrong. "I'm a coward," she said. "I'm always scared of something. And when I'm not, others get hurt because of me. I don't want that to happen again."
"Mel—"
She looked up at him, tearful, and with bloated eyes, but it didn't matter. She swallowed thickly, and nodded. "I'm going to become strong," she promised. "So I don't have to be afraid anymore. So I can help others before they get hurt. Will you help me?"
He stared at her for a long time. Maybe she should've known he would. Aisha said he was more dangerous than he looked, and it wasn't until now that Mel understood how right she was. Any normal person would've told her no. Anyone with a little sanity and a better life would've told her to play with dolls and chase after boys instead. But Vittel look at her, with a little hurt and a little fear, but mostly, he looked at her with understanding.
"It's not going to be easy—"
"Spare me. Aisha already gave me the mindset lecture. And a whole lot of bruises. Think you can top that?"
He snorted, and made an even bigger mess of her already messed up hair. "Yeah, well. Aisha taught you how to defend yourself. I can just teach you how to kill somebody else."
"Doesn't matter. The choice in the end is up to me alone, isn't it?"
Slowly, he nodded, sad. "You seemed to have thought this through. But you're in no condition to do it now. We gotta get the fever down, first."
"I know," Mel whispered.
"Good. Then get some rest. You need it."
Whoever said she'd be more afraid of the things she could not see had obviously never been imprisoned in a lit cell with torture tools displayed on the wall across them. On one hand, Aisha found the idea is pretty ingenious. A terrified mind could come up with ways those tools could be used that their owners would likely never even imagine. And even if that wasn't the intent behind the display, it certainly wouldn't let their prisoner rest.
She wished she could say such a method would never affect her. If only.
She didn't know how long she'd been there. The dull ache from how her arms stretched above her head would never let her think about it. It hurt more than the whipping, and she had a feeling that even if somebody let her go now, the unnatural position she'd been in for so long would leave her immovable for a while.
Chains can't bind me, unless if I let them.
It was a good, strong reminder. An anchor, a mantra. She'd been through this before, equally painful, equally cruel. And she'd made it out anyway, stronger and more courageous than before.
Chains can't bind me, unless if I let them.
Spilling her blood wouldn't change that. Hurting her wouldn't change it either. She'd grown up tortured for breathing wrong, by people who only wished to see her suffer. A man who wanted to hurt her for information could never scare her more than a sadistic bastard that had no limit to his cruelty.
Chains can't bind me, unless if I let them.
Except she did let them, this time, didn't she? When the choice had come down to her or Mel, she chose Mel. And she would do it again, over and over.
I don't want to die.
Maybe it wasn't good, maybe it would never be, but things had finally started looking up for her. She had a roof over her head, not a cabin, not a prison. A home, one that she'd earned with her own hard work, and a little of Marina's assistance. She'd made friends, friends who didn't expect her to fix everything, friends who didn't think living a quiet life was a wrong thing to do.
And she gave it all away. For what? A false sense of righteousness? Clean conscience? Helping an innocent child live a different life than the one she had?
I want to kill him.
It had nothing to do with Mel at this point, or Sinbad, or what she thought to be justice. She wanted to kill that man, the same way she wanted to kill her boss. Make him suffer for things he did to her. There was no justice about it, no duty, no responsibility. She just wanted to see the man lying in the pool of his own blood.
It wouldn't make her feel any better, it wouldn't make her any happier. But the world would be better off with another scumbag buried deep under. Anyone who did these things with intent to hurt somebody deserved it. That's what she promised.
That's why the Tridents existed. That was why she made them. Nadia wanted to make the world a better place, and Aisha did, too, but she wanted to see those bastards burn in hell first.
Chains can't bind me, unless if I let them.
And she wouldn't, ever again. Because she'd burn every last slaver to ash. Starting with Froder himself.
In the distance, a door opened. Guard, by the sound of metal clanking. And somebody quieter, either wearing a robe, or a dress.
She's here.
Aisha wasn't sure how she knew that. It had been years, the footsteps had changed, a lot of things had changed. But when the door of her cell opened, she cracked a single eye open, and she knew what she'd see before she caught sight of it.
Nadia hadn't changed much. Sharp bob-cut, scar on her brow, and chin up in a never ending threat of pain, if you so much as looked at her wrong. If she'd had a flask of wine hanging at her sash, behind the leather belt and the sword, that would've been it. Lady of the Turbulent Seas, looking no different than she had years ago. Even if the lines around her eyes did show.
Aisha took one look at the guard diligently watching the cell door, and snapped her eyes shut.
"Look at me," Nadia ordered. Her voice had barely changed at all, still strong and commanding, impatient in ways Aisha always strived to be. It forced people to listen, and obey without question.
But she didn't. Kept her eyes closed and chin down, out of sheer stubbornness alone.
"Pathetic, that I'd find you in a place like this. I'd think you have the sense to lay low when things don't go your way. Apparently, I was wrong."
Aisha almost laughed in her face. As if things had ever gone her way. From slavery to criminal to prostitution, she only seemed to sinking lower with every next thing she did. At this point, there was no further low she could fall to.
"Where is the slave girl?" Nadia demanded.
"Slave girl?" Aisha mimicked, hoarse and scratching at her throat, but she did it nonetheless. "At least address her by her fucking name. Or do you like being somebody else's property so much that you adopted their habits? Disgusting."
A fist zoomed past her cheek and into the wall, echoing throughout the dungeon. Grabbed the fistful of Aisha's hair, and pulled.
"Listen to me," Nadia snarled. "I don't care what shit you pulled yourself into. I'm not going to let my people be accused of being involved in it. You never knew how to pick your battles, and I'm not going to let my men sink with you."
"If your men— no, if you'd done things you promised you would, none of this would've happened!" Aisha snapped. "Maybe I picked the wrong battle, but you picked the wrong side! And when they go down, and trust me, they will — the little girl they're after is smarter than all of us here put together — you'll go down with them."
The nails scratched in her skull, but what she saw in those eyes wasn't anger. Just pain.
"Don't make me do this, Aisha. I owe you my life, I don't want to see you in this place."
"And I owe you my freedom," Aisha choked out. "If you hadn't been there, we would've still been slaves, all of us together. Maybe I left in the end, and maybe things changed, but I saw them. Klaus, Elma, the boys… they're still the same people. You are still the same. Stop bowing your head to a bunch of asshoels with a full pouch."
Nadia's teeth gritted, and she stepped back. Dropped what she held of her hair, and shook her head. "I'm not bowing my head to anyone. I'm protecting my own. Something I would've done for you too, even now, if you hadn't left." She took another step back. "Are you sure, you won't tell me where the girl is? I can't guarantee they'll set you free, but—"
"Safe," Aisha cut her off. "She's safe. And she's going to make you regret siding with this scumbag. And you know how it goes now, feel free to tell your friends they won't get another word out of me. There's nothing they can do that I haven't survived before."
"You're crazy," Nadia choked. "You have more sense than this, Aisha. Don't challenge them."
"… send the others my regards," Aisha whispered. "Wish I could've seen them one more time. Said goodbye properly. And I'm sorry, about what happened, the last time. I never wanted to take the Tridents from you."
"I know," Nadia said. "And I'm sorry, too. There is nothing we can do to help you anymore."
Tiny smile stretched on Aisha's lips. "Don't worry. I wasn't expecting it." Sadistic pleasure rolled over her at the sight of that wince. She didn't want to see Nadia like that, not really… but if only she'd kept her word, none of this would've happened. Maybe not all of it was Nadia's fault, but she had ways to fix it. Same way she had ways to help Aisha, at any time of any day.
And she chose not to.
"I'm done here," Nadia said, looked up at the guard. "This woman has nothing to do with the Tridents. Let Froder do with her whatever he will."
Aisha ignored the shudder that passed along her spine. I did this… I chose this.
But as Nadia turned around and left without even a glance, it felt an awful lot like betrayal.
The crowd that had gathered at the colosseum vastly surpassed what Sinbad expected to see. It went to Maader's credit that she managed to organize a spectacle of this size in less than three days. As expected of a woman willing to steal his company and use it for her own ends, however many they were. He almost wished he'd taken Aisha's advice and took her along for that negotiation. Although he suspected that the results achieved would've been less satisfying, in that case.
Even with his freedom on the line, at least Sindria was safe.
And Aisha's capture had given him a weapon of the kind he hadn't imagined he could've possessed at all. Once Mel explained what the papers they'd stolen contained, he understood exactly why Aisha had been so insistent that they needed to have them.
Thank goodness we found Mel first. If some other head of a company got his hands on this, they could've brought the entirety of the Reim's monarchy down.
And Mel knew it.
Oh, not all of it, not by a long shot. Even Sinbad's understanding was sketchy at best. But the Alexius family was the backbone of Reim's monarchy, and Froder likely the richest family in the entirety of Reim. If the word got out that Froder pulled of a fraud that cost the Alexius family half its riches, not only would it bring many of Reim's richest nobles to the brink of financial destruction, it could start a war.
Well, a civil war. But if those at the head of Parthevia decided to exact vengeance for the last few years of utter devastation, it could turn much nastier than that.
And all it would take was a single, inconsequential, white lie to do it.
Aisha had no idea how right she was. This is bigger than one lousy tavern doing business with the wrong people, bigger than the market breach Mariadel was trying to pull.
Bigger than the bet he made in order to cut his company free of this madness by taking the quickest option possible, no matter the risks.
I wonder, if I used that right, could I isolate the influence so I could bring Mariadel down alone?
Probably, but then everyone would know what sort of a weapon he possessed, and there would be no escaping the repercussions. No. Going public with all the frauds both Froder and Mariadel had been involved with would help nobody right now. Not until Ja'far and Vittel got Aisha out of there, and not until he made sure Aisha didn't reveal this bit of info to her pirate friends. She had every right to be angry, but he would not let her start along the path that could spark a war.
Perhaps using it to put Mariadel in line after I win this… Well, that idea required more thought. There was no telling how far that woman was willing to go, but it was certainly an option, if she tried to undermine another one of their contracts. For now, he would act like she'd held up to her part of the bargain. And so he would for his.
"I'm sorry," Mel chirped behind him, "this is as far as I can go."
Ah, right. Only gladiators could go past that mark, huh. Sinbad glanced at the anxious girl, and patted her head. "Thanks for keeping me company this long. Here." He dropped his sword and necklace in Mel's waiting hands. "I'll be right back. But until then, I leave them in your care."
She nodded, but her expression didn't change. Ack. He'd never really understand kids. They'd already talked of this half a dozen times, and she still looked like things could go wrong any minute now.
Pinching her cheek, he grinned. "Don't look worried like that, Ja'far and Vittel know what they're doing."
"Yeah," the girl whispered. Stiffened, when another woman stepped by the door.
Face hidden under a shawl, only several dark strands of hair fighting through, she bowed her head. Glanced between Sinbad and Mel, before dark eyes settled on Sinbad at last. "Apologies for intrusion. I trust you are the one they call the leader of the Seven Seas Alliance?"
"Who asks?" Sinbad shot back. Noted the leather underneath the shawl. But no weapon in sight. Given nobody had bothered to take his, it meant she'd done it of her own free will. Interesting.
"I cannot say. But I promise not to take much of your time. May we speak in private? I believe there is something important that you must know."
"So important that it cannot wait for the end of the match?" Sinbad asked breezily. "I wonder what that could be."
"Do not get me wrong, o great Sinbad. Nobody is expecting you to walk out of this arena alive. Least of all myself."
"Well, that's inspiring," Sinbad noted dryly. "I'd expect a pretty lady such as yourself to stand on the side of the underdog. Such a shame."
He caught a hint of a smirk on her face, and inwardly cheered.
"You think very highly of yourself if you consider yourself to be the underdog in this tale, when you are no more than a bug to be crushed in a single stomp. No wonder Aisha has taken such an interest in you, she did always have that awful habit of betting on impossible odds."
Mel's gasp filled the room, young eyes growing wide as saucers. "You know Aisha?"
The woman inclined her head. "I'm afraid so. Though saying that I know her rather understates our relationship. We're more rivals than anything else, really. And you must be Mel. You're one very elusive child, for the most wanted slave in this country. Took all my resources just to get a hint of where you might be, and even then, I didn't know for sure until I walked in here." Raised her hand to placate them, the moment Sinbad stepped between them. "Rest easy. I have no intention of taking that child."
"Just as I have no intention of losing this match," Sinbad said. "But if you know that she is a wanted slave, then you must also know why, and if you do, I cannot let you leave this room secure in the knowledge you won't use my match in the arena to harm her."
"Ah, bold, arrogant and smart," the woman smirked, "I'm liking you more and more. But you're correct. You cannot trust me to leave the girl alone. Same as I cannot trust your henchmen to get that reckless idiot out of the dungeon alive. Guess I'll have to give those boys of yours a benefit of doubt, don't you think?"
"What do you want?" Sinbad demanded. "Who are you?"
"Easy there. I want the same thing you do; Aisha out of that place in one piece, and you to leave this arena alive. But if you walk in there right now, I have a feeling my second wish isn't going to come true. And that would be trouble for both of us. No human goes up against a Fanalis in a gladiator match, and survives."
"A what?"
Behind him, Mel whimpered. Shook her head rapidly. "A Fanalis?" she murmured. "No… no! That's not fair! She forced Sinbad to promise not to use his Vessels, and she's sending a Fanalis?" Turned on him, eyes wide, filled with something oddly resembling fury, wrapped in fear. "You can't! Call it off! You can't walk in there! Any slave here knows what a Fanalis can do, Sinbad, you can't fight him!"
"I knew this would be a trap," Sinbad insisted, "but if I pull back now, I'm endangering my company again. The terms are clear, by participating in the match, my company is free of its debt towards Mariadel—"
"And if you lose, you become a slave," the woman finished. "Cocky of you, to accept such terms. Clearly you don't know how many powerful warriors lost their freedom because of sheer arrogance."
"That's not it!" Mel snapped. "I know, you said you'd participate, you promised — but she's sending a Fanalis! That's cheating, even if the paper say it isn't! It's the same thing my master does, always, you can't go there!"
"But he doesn't have a choice, my dear," the woman cut her off. "If he doesn't go, he loses his company by default. And if he chooses to save himself the pain and surrender the match, he becomes a slave. There is no choice for him but to win. Which we're both aware he cannot. What is a man like him to do, in a situation like this?"
Part of him wanted to take Mel by that jacket and shake her, until she told him every last detail about the Fanalis that she knew, but there was no time. He'd intended to come early, but with this, much of that time he'd intended to use for preparation had already slipped through his fingers. And both of them seemed unshakable in their beliefs.
"To begin with, why do you assume I will lose?" he pressed, anyway. Because maybe, if he got either one of them to talk, they'd slip an important detail through, a hint he could use—
"I don't assume," the woman insisted. "I know. As does Lady Madaura, and every single man who has heard that a dungeon conqueror is taking part in this without his vessels. Which, I'll have you know, are select few. I'm lucky to be friends with one of them. You were never given a chance, silly boy. I suppose it is fortunate for you that I like you just enough that I want to give you an opportunity."
"Oh? And what opportunity is that?"
The smirk on her face was all teeth. "I'll give you a chance to cheat yourself. Did you know, it is allowed for competitors to bring their pet into the arena, along with their weapon?"
"A pet?" Sinbad echoed. "I don't have a—"
The woman whistled, and almost like a whirlwind, white-furred tiger zoomed past him and squeezed itself between him and Mel, in his efforts to lick the unsuspecting girl's face. Sinbad's eyes widened in recognition.
"This is Mika," the woman explained. "He's the lousiest, scrawniest Maurenian Sabretooth tiger you're ever going to see, probably the biggest coward as well. He'll do anything to get scratched behind the ears."
"You mean, you want me to—"
"I wouldn't bet on a Maurenian tiger against a Fanalis. They're not fast enough, and this one especially isn't trained for combat. What's more, the poison in his teeth isn't strong enough to kill a Fanalis, he is just a baby after all. But, if all you wanted was to knock one out for a while…"
Sinbad swallowed thickly, and looked at the beast now curling at Mel's feet. Had done the same to Aisha, a few days prior, though it felt like that had been years ago.
"What you're telling me to do is rather underhanded," he brought up.
"But well within the rules," the woman reasoned. "Whether you choose to fight with my suggestion in mind, or find your own way, it makes no difference to me. I am merely fulfilling a request. And owning up for my mistakes. To you, I wish the best of luck during the match, dragon of the storm."
Pulling the shawl further to hide her face, she spun on her heel, and began to walk. And on her naked shoulderblade, in a show that could be nothing but intentional, in the color blue as the sea, tattoo of a trident, shifting gently along with her muscles. Just like…
He didn't finish that thought. Wouldn't. Because it reminded him of better times, and silky hair flowing through his fingers, and the fact that a girl who did not deserve it now fought a battle with captivity of a different kind than she'd fought before.
He turned towards the tiger, and Mel, with her ashen face, fingers idly scratching behind the beast's ears. She jumped almost immediately. "I'm sorry, I just—"
"No, it's okay. I don't like her proposition much, but she may have a point, as much as I hate to admit it."
"Because she's Aisha's friend?"
"I think friend is a stretch of the word," he pointed out dryly. "Think you can manage on your own for the duration of the match? We can't be sure that she wasn't followed here, or that she was as honest as I'd like her to be."
Mel stared at him for a long moment. Placed the necklace he'd given her around her neck, fastened his sword to her hip, and gripped the hilt of her dagger. Large green eyes shone with determination.
"Right," he noted. "Be careful out there."
"Don't lose, Sinbad."
The tiger rose, circling around him. He recalled how Aisha had done it, and did the same. Glanced at the beady yellow eyes with a grin on his face. And smiled. "Got it."
Outside the arena, deep in the shade of the nearby trees, Nadia pulled the shawl off her face, folded it neatly, and shoved it in her brother's face. Accepted the sword he handed her back, placing it back onto the leather belt where it belonged.
"Easy there, sis, you're gonna rip it off, and then who's gonna have to fix it?"
Bristling, Nadia glanced back towards the arena, and the cheers erupting out of it. "It doesn't matter at this point, does it? If he loses that match, I lose my head, and probably more. I hope you're happy, you ungrateful bastard."
Scratching through the mane that was his hair, Nadir glanced at her, with complete lack of any real gratitude. "Yeah, well, let's hope it doesn't come to that. I'd hate to decapitate another noble. That shit gets nasty."
"If your idiot ass hadn't done that, we wouldn't be in this mess," Nadia growled.
"Oi, oi, easy there, they were threatening my wife—"
"Aisha had nothing to do with this shit until your idiocy compelled you to kill that noble, you ass. They're now blaming her for what you did, and if Sinbad's little ninjas don't get her out of there, what they do to her is going to be your fault," she snapped. "And for the last time, she's not your goddamn wife. Get over it."
"Hey!" he protested. "She kissed me! That makes her mine whether you like it or not!"
Nadia glared up at him. Took a deep breath, before shaking her head. This wasn't worth it, she just knew it. "Sometimes I honestly ask myself how you can be such a goddamned idiot."
"And I wonder how you can be such an awful liar. 'There is nothing we can do to help you anymore', my ass. The Tridents protect their own, every goddamned fool on the street knows that. Aisha's probably expecting you to break right back in there and get her out of there by sunrise. And your bitch ass is sneaking here, helping her little boyfriend. What a lousy pirate you are."
Nadia crossed her arms, ignored her body's compelling need to choke the living soul out of her brother, and leaned against the tree. Few years back, she wouldn't even think to doubt that. But now, expression on Aisha's face back in that dungeon… A lot happened. She must be as sick of all the misunderstandings as I am…
But Aisha always had more guts than sense. And it had been years.
Last time I saw her, I said a lot of things I shouldn't have.
"What do you think, Nadir, should I apologize? About what happened? I told her many things I didn't mean, years ago."
"Huh?" her brother said, eloquently. "But nobody died, right?"
"No. Nobody died."
"Then why should you? Aisha's a clever cookie. She knows you'd never hate her over dumb shit. I can't believe you're even asking me this."
"Why I'm asking, indeed…"