Page 21 of Rise of a Fallen Man

The gladiators grumbled, shifting uneasily at her words.

I flinched, casting a longing glance at my plate of ribs on the table.

Lerrel laughed.

“Don’t worry. For one, our chef can prepare any grain much better than those in the slaves’ kitchen, I’m sure. And two, I know I can’t take meat from them completely or I’ll have a mutiny on my hands.” She tilted her head. “Well, you look like the gods have hewed you out of a mountain rock. A bear indeed.”

A loud clapping came from the direction of the building, accompanied by a female voice, “Big like a mountain and strong like a bear. Why do you think I gave him that bear hide to wear this morning?”

A couple walked to us from the open door of the gladiators’ building. The woman had introduced herself to me as Naeco that morning. She’d said she was the choreographer for the gladiators. Because apparently, the great fighting skills weren’t enough to put up a satisfying show for the audience. Each fight had to be carefully choreographed for the arena, even as the risk of injury or death remained very real too.

Naeco’s snow-white hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes, as well as her light-blue eyes, subtly tinted with violet, told me she was one of the Frosted people who looked like Eci, the Goddess of Winter. Every now and then, gods sent someone looking like Naeco into the world to remind us that beauty had many forms and the mortals’ appearance was as varied as that of the gods.

The man who accompanied Naeco was Noil, Lerrel’s husband and the gladiators’ mentor. He trained the men to fight while Naeco made sure they looked good when fighting.

Naeco squinted in the sunshine before putting a pair of dark-tinted glasses on to peer at me through them.

“Fur suits you,” she said.

“It goes well with the hide he has growing on his chest.” Noil chuckled, then beelined for the table with food.

“Mountain Bear,” Naeco murmured, raking with a finger through my chest hair that had fully grown out after the last grooming. “That’s what you should be called in the arena. Mountain Bear. What do you think, Lerrel?”

I glanced at the games master.

“Works for me.” She tipped her head at the table. “Go eat. I know you’re hungry. It wouldn’t do for us to starve you, especially if we’re going with that bear-like persona for you.”

“Thanks.” I headed to the table, not waiting to be asked twice.

Noil took the place on my right, the one vacated by Falo.

“So, here is what’s going to happen.” Noil grabbed a rib from his plate, using it to articulate his words by waving it in the air. “You’ll figure out all that costume shit with Naeco today. We’ll get you the gladiator’s ring tomorrow.” He tapped against the table with the heavy silver ring on his right middle finger. The ring was engraved with the golden crown of Rorrim in the oval frame of the gladiator’s arena. “I allowed you to sleep in this morning, but you’re getting up early with the rest of the boys tomorrow. We train before and after breakfast. The first two weeks you’ll help with the games and practice your own act. A week after, we’ll try your act in the arena, see how it goes, and go from there.” He bit into the rib, tearing a huge strip of meat from the bone. “And no women during the first month,” he said around a mouthful. “I need you fully focused on the games, at least at the beginning.”

“Fine with me.” I reached for my plate. “I’m not interested in women.”

“That’s too bad, because if you prefer men, they can’t pay much. Women are the rich and powerful ones. They make the best benefactors.”

“No. Not interested in men, either.” I picked up a rib and finally sank my teeth into the succulent meat. The flavor gave justice to the aroma that had been teasing me all this time.

Noil raised his bushy eyebrows, then shrugged his shoulders, and dug into the vegetables on his plate. “Suit yourself. You can certainly survive without a benefactor. But with a rich woman taking care of you, your life would be much easier.”

The one and only woman who’d ever caught my interest I couldn't have. I’d shot way too high. Even a royal gladiator was way below a princess.

Her true match could only be a prince.

Chapter 6

Ari

The Royal Gladiators’ Arena was filled to the brim with spectators, like always. What was happening in it, however, was not typical.

Instead of its usual elaborate settings filled with obstacles and traps for gladiators to overcome, hurdles had been placed at even intervals for horses to jump over. A long rail marked the jousting area. And instead of the beefy gladiators in their fantastic outfits, three fashionably dressed princes trotted gracefully on horseback.

“Ari, dearest, just look at them.” Mother waved with her silk fan at the three riders circling the arena. The three princes paraded for the audience, their long decorative spears raised in the air. “So much class and elegance in their postures. Don’t you think?”

“Absolutely, Mother. All three have class and elegance in spades.”

The weather was cloudy today, finally providing some relief from the summer heat of late. However, Mother’s dark satin gown still seemed too hot for the occasion, prompting her to work her fan relentlessly.

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