Scott Kirkman Books

It took Slate only about three heartbeats to regain his composure. He smiled, an expression that did not reach his eyes. He rolled up the parchment and handed it back to Bleekhas. “My apologies, but the troll is not for sale.”

Bleekhas said, “Surly the price is fair.”

Slate shrugged one shoulder. “Yes. The price is fair for a proven pit fighter. For the top draw in the capital city? I think not.”

Bleekhas took a deep breath, a determined look appearing on his face. Clearly, he was in his element, negotiating prices. “Master Slate, you know your business far better than do I. Still, we both know that fighters at this level can fall at anytime. In fact, didn’t the troll barely survive his last match?”

“This is true, but I cleared nearly your asking price in his last bout alone.”

“Well, there you have the fairness. You are assured the payoff of at least one more fight.”

Slate shook his head. “But that doesn’t…”

“I fail to see why there is negotiating,” Miss Trindle said. She fixed Slate with a cool stare. “This buyer is not another slave merchant.” Her voice held undisguised contempt for the title. “This is the Pharaoh of the Empire, a god made flesh. Everything in the empire exists for his pleasure, including me, you and Mr. Barquark. Indeed, it is more than fair that he offer any compensation at all let alone a price that is arguably fair.”

Slates sharp eyes darted at Bleekhas for a moment. The buyer’s eyes had grown wide with alarm with the young woman’s speech.

Slate’s face took on that cold smile. “Nobody would doubt that the Pharaoh is well within his rights to claim the troll. Still, Mr. Bleekhas can explain the potential negative consequences for the empire’s economy if the Pharaoh began the wholesale confiscation of valuable property.”

Bleekhas’ mouth was working but he made no sound, sweat pebbling his brow.

Miss Trindle narrowed her eyes. “Negative consequences?”

“Of course. Instability is disaster for any economy. If the merchant class begins to fear the sudden loss of their most valuable property…”

“Wholesale confiscation seems a bit hyperbolic.” Miss Trindle said. “Besides, we’re talking about one slave. How would the merchant class even find out?”

Again, the cold smile. “I would consider it my duty as a guild master to notify my peers.”

“Are you threatening the Pharaoh?”

“Do you claim to speak for him?”

Bleekhas finally found his voice. “Please, please. There is no need for the conversation to become heated.” He paused and wiped the sweat from his bald head. “I’m sure we can find a settlement that would be acceptable for all.”

Slate relaxed his posture but kept his eyes fixed on Miss Trindle. “Quite right, Master Bleekhas, quite right.” He turned to Bleekhas. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like a private word with Miss Trindle.”

Bleekhas hesitated, eyes darting between the two.

“It’s fine, Master Bleekhas.” Miss Trindle said. “Please do as he asks.”

Bleekhas paused for another few heartbeats, then turned for the door.

When the door closed behind Bleekhas, Slate said, “Please, have a seat,” then moved behind his desk and took his own chair.

Miss Trindle decided there was no profit in being unnecessarily belligerent and sat down in the chair facing the desk.

Slate Steepled his fingers. “Why do you want him?”

Miss Trindle’s eyebrows rose in a question. “Me? No, the Pharaoh…”

“I didn’t realize that your duties as nanny and teacher included purchasing slaves.” He paused. “Please, I am no fool. Yesterday, the troll saved your life and that of the princess, and today you are here with the Pharaoh’s chief buyer. I know this is your doing. Frankly, I’m surprised you have the influence and would dearly like to know how, but for now, I will settle for what you want with Barquark.”

Miss Trindle’s face remained stoney. “That is the Pharaoh’s concern.”

Slate’s expression betrayed only the slightest annoyance. “You cannot set him free. You know this. My collar is the only thing that has kept him alive in the city. I imagine the Pharaoh’s collar will provide almost as much protection, but without one, they would tear him to shreds. And even a powerful owner’s collar will not protect him on his own in the border territories.”

Miss Trindle released a small sigh. “I am well aware of the dangers.”

Slate studied the young woman for a few moments. “Your feelings of gratitude are understandable but misplaced.”

“Really?”

“The troll’s actions may have appeared heroic, but I assure you his intentions were not.”

“How so?”

“Trolls are barbaric creatures, barely more than wild beasts. And Barquark’s years in the pits have only…encouraged his bloodthirsty nature. I’m sure he was only reacting instinctively to the frenzy of battle and the smell of blood.”

Miss Trindle actually laughed at this. “Master Slate, you insult me and embarrass yourself when you regurgitate that wartime propaganda.” She paused and shook her head. “The trolls are an ancient race. They were developing a written language, mapping the stars, and treating their sick with effective medicines when our ancestors were struggling to master fire and using crude stone tools. So, please, spare me the bloodthirsty beast.”

Slate raised his eyebrows. “Really? I had no idea.”

“Unfortunately, that’s true for most people within the empire.”

“Most people haven’t benefited from an advanced education at the Amundah University.”

Miss Trindle bowed her head, conceding the point. She was surprised and a little disturbed to find that Slate knew anything about her background. Recovering, she said, “Still, you’ve owned Mr. Barquark for how long now?”

“Almost two years.”

“In all that time, you must have had some interactions with him, perhaps a few conversations even. You need only look into his eyes to see he is no wild animal. Come now, Mr. Slate, you’ve let him roam the city alone.”

Slate closed his eyes for a few moments while he took a deep breath. “I admit that Mr. Barquark has surprised me at times with his…awareness.”

Miss Trindle raised her delicate eyebrows. “Any other arguments? I will not be dissuaded and, really, you cannot deny the Pharaoh. You know this. I believe you are too smart to engage in any kind of prideful power play.”

Slate raised both hands, palms out toward Miss Trindle before placing them flat on his desk. “Fine. You are indeed a formidable young lady. I will accept Master Bleekhas’ offer if only to satisfy my own curiosity. You still refuse to tell me what you want with him?”

Miss Trindle’s mouth turned a half smile. “You’ll find out.”

End – Barquark: Troll pit fighter – Episode 6

Keep an eye out for the next exciting episode!