Kings Game

Chapter 12 - Turning point (2)

Roran nodded. "I think you're right."

"Are you still thinking about joining the special tourney?"

Roran nodded.

"Don't. You'll die."

"Why?"

Chase hesitated. "I'm...I'm not allowed to give out any information about the event. But trust me kid, you would die if you participated."

Pushing his food around on the plate, Roran said, "I think I would be okay with that."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'd rather die than be stuck down in the dungeons. If I win then I can escape."

"What are you talking about? You can leave now. You have gladiator's rights. You can just walk out the door."

Roran shook his head. "No, I can't leave my people behind. They don't care about me, or even like me, but they're still my people. I grew up with them. If I leave, they'll be stuck in the dungeons, slowly starving to death. If I win the special event, then I'll be able to ask one of the Kings for a favor, right?"

Reluctantly, Chase nodded.

"Then I can ask them to give my people citizenship and move them out of the dungeons. They'll be allowed to work once they're citizens, right?"

"It's a little more complicated than that, but once they're no longer considered refugees they'll be free to apply for work visas like I did."

"Then that's what I'll do. I'll ask the King to allow them to work in the city and become citizens. Then I can focus on my own goals."

"It's not worth it. You'll die and your people will be just as stuck. You're far better off becoming a warden. It's safer, the pay is consistent, you'll get all the freedom you want."

Roran didn't reply. Chase was beginning to recycle his arguments.

Seeing that his words were falling on deaf ears, Chase said, "The choice is yours. I hope you don't sign up for that death game, but I can't stop you. I um, I have to get back to work. I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Chase left. Roran sat for a minute longer, trying to finish his meal. He still struggled with eating larger portions. After months of moldy bread and overly salted jerky, big greasy meals sat in his stomach like a hot weight. Not willing to waste the food, Roran cleaned his plate before leaving the mess hall. He felt ill but refused to let himself throw up. Instead, he walked the halls, slowly, until his stomach settled and he could breathe again. With nothing better to do, Roran headed back down into the dungeons.

As usual, Murrin greeted him. This time however, Murrin was excited.

"Ah, Roran, great to see that you're back safe and sound. I was worried that that monstrosity would eat you!"

"Herda is nice to me," said Roran, concerned. Murrin's grin was wide and his eyes were burning a hole into Roran's head. "Did something happen? You seem...excited."

"Oh, Roran, you have no idea what has happened. You see, while the clerk was giving us our rations, I managed to squeeze some information out of him. With my political expertise it was child's play. Anyway, he said that there would be no Crucible this week. When I asked what he meant, he said that there was a special tournament occurring next week and that they would be postponing the normal games until after the event was over. Now, I had to be a little sly with my questions, but I managed to get him to give us insider information.

"You see, they need volunteers for this event. It will be three rounds with the winner receiving a large bounty of favors and a boon from one of the great Kings. Now, you realize what this means, don't you?"

Roran grimaced. The last thing he wanted was Murrin hounding him during the event.

"You can request more money!"

Roran exhaled.

"With the prize money, plus the extra riches, we should be able to move into better accommodations and provide Toth and Sephyr with proper training so that they will be able to take up your mantle when the inevitable happens."

"What do you mean?" asked Roran, "If you move out of here, then I won't need to fight in the Crucible for you anymore."

"Come now boy, I know you aren't properly educated, but surely you can understand simple economics. Even if we purchase better accommodations, we'll need to pay for them. We'll need you to continue supplying us with favors. We'll need even more than before if we want to stay in our new homes for a long time."

"Wouldn't it be better if you were put in a position where you could work for your own favors and coin, and then we wouldn't have to make anyone fight in the arena?"

"Bless your simple mind, child, nothing is that simple. Just do as I tell you, okay? Now, I've already signed you up for the special tourney. With them canceling the Crucible, you have a little less than a week to prepare. I'd recommend asking your sponsor for more training and some good meals between now and then."

Roran dropped his head. It wasn't worth fighting Murrin over the details. He would have to work on his own and figure it out as he went, just like he always did. Despite Murrin's attitude, Roran felt a little better. He didn't have to make the choice anymore. Murrin had taken the choice away and now Roran's path was clear. Fight, survive, and win.

"I'll talk to my sponsor," said Roran, "She's been wanting to spend more time training me anyway. I'll need my weapons back for the event."

"Come now boy, we've been over this. Those weapons are for Toth and Sephyr, we can't risk losing them in the event."

"I'll need good weapons if I'm going to win the tournament."

"You can just make do with the loaners. It hasn't been an issue before, I don't see why it would be an issue now."

Roran grit his teeth, biting back his anger. Slowly, he said, "Those loaners have broken in the middle of my fights, twice now."

"And yet, here you are, still alive to complain about it."

"Barely, both times nearly cost me my life! I need those weapons if I'm going to survive."

Murrin shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to do about it. We as a collective have decided that we can't risk you losing our weapons. If you happen to die out there, well that's your sponsor's fault for not helping you and your fault for not trying hard enough."

Enraged, Roran took a step towards Murrin, his fist clenched. Then, as the realization hit him, he deflated.

"How many?" asked Roran.

"Pardon?"

"If I die, you still get favors for my participation, right? How many favors do you get for my participation?"

"I don't see how that's relevant to this conversation."

Roran turned and walked away from Murrin, heading for his little spot on the ground. The one tiny thing that his people had yet to take from him. He wasn't going to waste any more energy fighting Murrin. He would need all of his energy if he wanted to stay alive.