Page 19 of Rise of a Fallen Man

She shook her head, her lips pressed together in concern.

“You know what the law is. If your past is discovered, you won’t live long.”

“I know. But for as long or as short as I have, I’ll live the way I want, not the way the law forces me to.”

“Are you content with your life then?” She didn’t ask if I was happy. True happiness wasn’t for the men like me.

“It is what it is.” I shrugged.

I went back to hauling the gravel to fill the pothole, and Traeh was on her way to the farm of a distant relative. She’d never opened another fun house while taking care of Erif. After he died, she decided to move to the farm and help around for as long as she could.

When I returned to the slaves working on the road, one of them recognized Traeh’s wagon.

“Hey, I saw that wagon years ago. People on the market said that woman was getting groceries for a whorehouse.”

“Do you want to become a whore, Salas?” the other one snorted.

“That bitch would take you for all you’ve got, make money off you, then fuck you herself for free,” the first one added.

The third slave made a sign of a circle over his forehead—the ring of purity in honor of God Yarnus, “Cursed is she and all those who are with her. May they all burn in a purifying fire.”

The others laughed and cursed, saying things about Traeh she didn’t deserve. The brunt of our stigma scorched her too.

“Shut up,” I snapped.

Traeh wasn’t perfect by any means. But who was? She had taken me in when every door had closed on me. She showed me kindness when no one else did.

They taunted me and insulted her, delighted in having someone below them to look down at and spit on. One of them shoved me, and I threw a punch in response. Five more men jumped at me, and I hit left and right without looking, until a bone snapped and a man yelled in agony.

“No breaking bones.” I nodded, repeating Lerrel’s words.

Falo hit again. The blow to my chest left me winded. He was too fast, jumping around me like a rabbit. I figured out the pattern of his jumps and leaped aside to evade his next strike. Then I moved behind him and hugged his arms to his torso.

“Hey!” he yelled and sputtered, squirming in my tight embrace. “That’s not how it’s done. Fight me, you coward!”

“You said no rules.” I wrapped one arm around his middle, holding his arms to his body, then lifted him off his feet.

He kicked, so I shifted him under my arm, holding him horizontally to the ground. He kicked and screamed but couldn’t free his hands or reach me with his feet.

“Set me down, you fucking clumsy bear!” Falo yelled, dangling in my hold like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Lerrel’s mouth dropped open, the half-eaten rib dangling in her fingers.

The rest of the gladiators erupted in thunderous laughter. Raob all but fell off the bench, holding his sides. Regit laughed so hard, tears were rolling down his cheeks.

“Don’t you squirm like that.” I adjusted Falo under my arm. “Or you’ll break your ribs, which is against the rules.” I turned to Lerrel. “Where do you want him, master?”

Lerrel blinked, then swallowed, hiding a giggle behind her hand.

“Well.” She stepped over the rope and onto the rink with us. “Set him down. The fight is over, Falo.” She shoved the rib bone with little meat left on it into his hand. “Go eat your lunch.”

“The fucking ogre has no clue how to fight!” Falo glared at me, storming off the rink.

A reflection wave of embarrassment ran over his skin and clothes, momentarily blending his shape with the fence and the ground. He tossed the half-eaten rib into the bucket on the ground, then grabbed his plate from the table and stomped toward the building, chased by the teasing shouts of the gladiators.

“I never said I knew how to fight,” I explained to Lerrel. “I’m much better with a sword than with my fists. Especially if you don’t want any bones broken.”

“But you sure made it entertaining.” She smirked. “Which is actually the most important part of what we do around here. Above all, the public must be entertained. Let me think. What can we do with you?”

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