The door closed behind Aalis and she made sure the bar was in place before turning and sagging against it.

  “You’d better sit down before you fall down.” Verne chuckled, rapping a wooden high back chair that sat near the fireplace.

  “I think Giordi needs the chair more than I.” Aalis turned to the minstrel who was eyeing the chair painfully.

  “I thought I was getting so much better but those steps…” Giordi winced. “Not sure if I want to sit on that. I’ll sit on a bed.”

  There were three beds down the length of the room with the fireplace facing the middle bed from the opposite wall. It was narrow, Verne able to reach from the end bedpost to the far wall with his arms outstretched. However, what it lacked in width it made up for with real beds with mattresses, sheets, blankets and to Giordi’s amusing delight, pillows.

  “Glorious civilisation!” He declared, picking up a pillow and cuddling it as he sat on the mattress.

  “The nomads were perfectly civilised,” Verne argued, “and decidedly more welcoming than certain Terras I could mention.”

  “Sit on this mattress and tell me you miss sleeping on furs on the hard ground.” Giordi retorted. “I swear it’s stuffed with feathers…I might be able to sleep on my back at last.”

  “Oh good…you’ll be snoring all night long.” Verne turned to Aalis. “You want the bed closest to the fire?”

  “I think Giordi has already snagged that one.”

  “He’ll move if he needs to.” Verne muttered.

  “Oh…no, well, I mean…”

  “Ahem,” they looked up in surprise to see Judd at a door that was next to the fireplace, “how are the accommodations?”

  “Fine…what are you doing there?” Verne snorted. “I didn’t know that was a door. It looks like a panel of wall…”

  “I think it’s so my ‘servants’ can assist me whenever I call.” Judd opened it wide on its centre hinge and showed them his room. It was immediately obvious it was larger and more luxurious than theirs, down to the large four poster bed with drapes that dominated the room, the grander fireplace which was already lit and blazing and a window big enough for a seat beneath it with big, reinforced shutters on the inside.

  “You have a window.” Aalis said wistfully.

  “We’re on the Maul side of the fort,” Verne noted, “I don’t think windows are a good idea.”

  “What’s in your mattress?” Giordi asked and made a beeline for the bed.

  Judd looked at Verne and Aalis.

  “Don’t ask.”

  Giordi sank onto the bed. “Oh…oh yeah…duck down for sure…sublime sweet softness…you’ll sleep well here, Judd.”

  “Actually, I thought it might be prudent to offer this room to Aalis and Verne,” Judd looked at the two of them, “at least to sleep in. I don’t really need all this space.”

  Verne folded his arms. “Uh…you sure?”

  “Well, you know…”

  “If they don’t take it, I will!” Giordi declared.

  Judd chuckled then looked at Aalis who pressed her lips together, her cheeks dusting with pink. “Thank you, Judd.”

  He nodded and smiled. Aalis and Verne relocated their packs to the main bedchamber while Judd picked up his swag and moved it into the servant’s chamber. Giordi followed him, closing the door behind and watched as Judd unpacked his belongings.

  “That was very noble what you did just there.” Giordi commented.

  “Didn’t feel noble,” Judd sighed, “felt like tearing out my insides…but the sooner I fall out of love with Aalis, the better.”

  Giordi studied Judd. “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “In love with Aalis?”

  Judd smiled ruefully. “How would I know, really? It’s not like I’ve ever been in love before to recognise it.”

  “Judd, you jumped from a fifty foot wall to rescue her from a hydra! You pulled her out of a unicorn stampede, stormed a pack of wolves to save her and you’re still wondering?”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Judd sank onto a bed, holding his tunic in his hands, staring at the weave as if it might contain the answers to the questions he didn’t dare ask.

  “I suppose…if I admit it…then it becomes real…and I have to face the fact that she doesn’t love me.” Judd huffed and stood up, catching Giordi’s expression and growing concerned. “Giordi, what is it?”

  “Oh…um…just…aching. You know, from my noble act of self sacrifice.” Giordi said light heartedly. “So, are we dressing for dinner?”

  The moment Suvau was out of sight of Judd, Donimede’s men bound his hands. He didn’t resist, allowing them to march him to a set of stairs that led down, down, down…into the bowels of the fort. If not for the presence of lamps, Suvau doubted he would be able to see his hands in front of his face. He was not a superstitious person but the lower he went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became until a malicious presence seemed to inhabit the very walls of Fort Mavour.

  At the entrance to the dungeon came into view, a man who would give Suvau a run for his coin in a fist fight, grunted at him. It looked as though someone had taken a dislike to him with a nose that had endured many breaks and healed crooked, a permanently squinting eye and scars across his body where his leather harness and trousers did not obscure.

  “Easy Jole,” a much smaller man stepped out from behind him and the big man shifted backwards, “let’s see the latest acquisition.” He walked around Suvau with an appraising eye, his pale hair braided into many strands and tied in a top knot. He tutted and muttered to himself. “Fereak has outdone himself this time…I wasn’t aware he was here.”

  “This isn’t one of Fereak’s Mauls.” Suvau’s guard explained. “He accompanied a visitor. Judd LaMogre.”

  “I’ve heard the name,” the man remarked wryly, “well…unless he’s particularly brilliant in the Arena, this beauty will be ours. Jole, show our guest where he will be staying.”

  Jole moved forward. Suvau could feel the animosity almost glowing from the brute who clamped shackles over Suvau’s wrists. Jole opened the metal gate and the little man grabbed the chain between the shackles and pulled hard on it, taking Suvau down the stairs into a basement that stank of urine, sweat and blood. Suvau followed subserviently, hearing the sounds of shuffling around him. There was a little light from tiny gaps that were so small they couldn’t really be called windows at the top of the walls. As his eyes adjusted he began to see shapes, legs, arms…people in the dungeon. The little man marched Suvau to a wall where there was a chain bolted to the stone. The chain was locked onto Suvau’s shackles and he noticed that, while he could sit, he would not be able to lie down.

  “Make sure you watch this one, Jole,” the little man mused, “he’s not as dumb as he looks.”

  Jole grunted in acknowledgement and followed his master back up the stairs.

  When the gate clanged into place, Suvau lifted his head and looked around.

  “People of Maul, my name is Suvau. I come from Fort Omra.”

  “So do we all.” Someone said in the darkness, obscured and tired.

  “But it’s here we will die.” Someone else added.

  “You’ve all got to die somewhere under Terra oppression…here is as good a place as any.”

  “Don’t mind Palo,” said a young lad near Suvau who looked as though he had suffered a broken arm that hadn’t healed straight and was bent at a painful angle, “he’s decided to embrace his fate.”

  “Only a fool would deny the inevitable.” Palo replied.

  Suvau could hear the weariness in their voices.

  “Wait…Suvau?” Someone on the far side of the dungeon said softly. “Yolana’s husband?”

  “Yes. You know me?”

  “I am Oska.”

  Suvau’s eyes widened at the mention of his wife’s brother’s name. “Oska!” He tried to pull on the chain but couldn’t get far across the dungeon to see the man he knew. Oska did the same and they ended up only a few feet from each other. He was a handsome yet brash man who had sometimes shirked his duties just for a chance to doze in the sunshine in Fort Omra yet his laziness was always offset by his merry attitude and charming smile. “Yolana still lights a candle for you.”

  “She was always a better sister to me than I was a brother to her.” Oska sighed. “Is she well?”

  “She is.”

  “And Emeri?”

  “Both are well and safe.”

  “That’s a relief.” Oska exhaled. “I knew you’d be able to protect them unless you were sent here.”

  “I suspect my skills as a swordsmith kept me from being chosen.” Suvau tried in vain to pull closer but had to resign himself to standing in the filthy straw, conversing across the faint gloom. “You have been gone so long…I never imagined you would still be here.”

  “They haven’t been able to kill me yet.” Oska said lightly. “It’s not for lack of trying.”

  Palo snorted in the shadows and muttered something unintelligible.

  “What happens here?” Suvau asked, ignoring Palo. “What happens to our people?”

  “We’re bait.”

  “Bait?”

  Oska nodded, his face bearing the same beautiful cheek bones as Yolana and his hair hung long and tangled over his shoulders. “Donimede needs to tempt monsters into the pit for the Terra’s to battle. They don’t go for sheep or cows or pigs…”

  “Human flesh.” Suvau breathed.

  “Our flesh. Our blood.” Oska shook his head. “How sad it is that we who have been maligned as monsters of Maul are finally proven to be human as the monsters devour us.”

  “Devour?”

  “It depends on the luck of the Arena.” The young lad who was shackled near Suvau spoke again. “Smaller monsters you can sometimes defeat.”

  “That’s allowed?” Suvau asked.

  “The Terras find it entertaining to watch us fight to live just one more day.” Palo muttered from his dark corner. “We’d be better off just letting the monsters kill us outright.”

  “That’s why they don’t put you in the Arena anymore.” Oska snorted. “Palo wasn’t entertaining enough. But there are those of us who fight, often just trying to protect each other.”

  “You? A fighter?”

  “I know. Lazy Oska…tall, good looking but about as useless as a two legged donkey.” Suvau had heard Yolana call Oska exactly that the day before Oska disappeared into Sir Fereak’s clutches. Fereak was probably trying to send a message to the Mauls that laziness was another reason to be deported to Fort Mavour. Yolana had wept for weeks afterwards, regretting her harsh words and mourning her brother that they had all assumed was dead. “I attracted smaller monsters to start with and was able to fend for myself, learning some valuable lessons. Donimede isn’t interested in wasting flesh so he lets Urik, that charming little,” Oska spat on the ground, “you met yanking Jole’s chain, rotate us.”

  “Some more frequently than others.” Palo grumbled.

  “It helps us last longer…but sooner or later we all die.”

  Suvau’s heart grew heavy even as his fists tightened. “This is worse than I imagined…”

  “Then you’ll love this kick in the groin on top of everything else,” Oska said quietly, “because you’re new...chances are you’ll be the next one thrown in.”