Iryana lost her view of the pit as people moved in front of her. She managed one last glimpse of Pyetar stumbling toward the ladder to leave the pit before she slipped back in the next window to head down the stairs.
Iryana forced herself to focus on reaching Karvek. She had a job to do.
Once, a focused, almost-angry look on her face could clear a path, but not anymore. The crowds around the pit were full of adrenaline and roaring testosterone. Soldiers were jeering at their friends, wrapping their injuries, hollering at the newest fighters in the pit. With nearly every step Iryana took, she had to avoid someone backing into her, too focused on the newest blood sprayed across the dirt of the pit or just without a care to swerve out of the way.
When Iryana finally made it down to the ground, she felt ready to fight herself. If one more person bumped into her, she was bound to drive her fist into their face.
Karvek sat at the center of the dais, right at the edge of the pit, lounging in the large chair brought out from his hall. The lines of his face were tense, his gaze tight. One captain had been talking to him quietly, but when Karvek’s eyes found Iryana, he dismissed the captain with a lazy wave of his hand.
The dais creaked as Iryana stepped up.
“Are you enjoying the fights?” Karvek asked. The sun above his head made the angles of his face seem even sharper.
He looked every bit a general. His brown hair waving beneath his cap, body leaned back confidently. Leisurely but not slouching.
Iryana forced herself to take a calming breath to still her frustration with what he was letting the brigade become before she answered, though she wondered if he might like her anger. “It’s been interesting, General.”
Karvek eyed her, gauging her.
“You may not like the violence, but that is not the real fun.” Karvek waved his hand flippantly and shrugged. “The real entertainment is predicting the fights, figuring out who will win, who wants it more.”
She could see his eyes light up at those words and latched onto it. Everything she had seen Karvek take interest in had been about coming out on top. Those who impressed him would be the ones he kept close. The ones that proved irreplaceable.
“Sit with me,” Karvek ordered, gesturing at the arm of his chair. She hesitated, but only for a moment. Being so close to Karvek always made her feel uneasy; she was never entirely sure what he wanted with her. And everyone would be able tosee them. As Iryana sat down, he pointed at the new fighters that were descending into the pit. “Look at them. Who do you think will win?”
Inclining her head toward Karvek, she tried to ignore the prickling along her skin from his presence. Iryana barely had a moment to look at the new fighters before a cough interrupted them.
“I was told you wanted to see me, General?” Pyetar stared stiffly at his brother from the edge of the dais.
For a moment, Karvek coiled at Iryana’s side. Then he was all smiles for Pyetar.
“You’ve won every fight. The Horvol name has stood tall today.”
She wasn’t sure, but it looked like Pyetar tensed before he nodded. A slight hesitation, perhaps. She looked him over carefully. He was standing so tall and rigid that it was like his injuries had dissipated. But then she noticed the slight hitch in his breathing, the way his weight was leaning slightly too far to one side. Blood still soaked his clothes.
Karvek leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “I have another fight for you, one that will make the last one look like two kids wrestling in the play yard.” He chuckled deeply. “The soldiers will go into a frenzy placing their bets. I might even place one myself.”
Slowly—achingly slowly—Iryana looked at Karvek. He would send his brother in to fight again? Pyetar was already injured and exhausted. Surely Karvek didn’t expect him to win. But then, maybe Karvek didn’t plan to bet on his brother. It wasn’t as if Karvek needed the money, but Iryana couldn’t decide if what he really wanted was to win or to control his brother.
With the poppy and increased tribute she’d seen moving in and out of the fort, his stores had to be full.
So then… what? Did he want to humiliate Pyetar? Karvek wanted the Horvol name to be strong, but this seemed like it would go against that. Although with how many fights Pyetar had already won, she couldn’t imagine that his losing at this point would make him look weak. A horrible option came to her; what if Karvek wanted Pyetar killed?
“I don’t have another one in me,” Pyetar said in a hushed tone.
“I know.” Karvek’s voice was devoid of emotion.
“There’s no point in putting me in the ring again.” Pyetar breathed, the moment bloating.
“Are you denying me?” Karvek’s voice was a threat.
“Of course not.” There was resignation in the lines of his body.
Iryana spoke before allowing herself to think the words through. “It’s a bit obvious, don’t you think?”
Karvek turned to look at her like a whip, stare pointed and wild. A warning.
“You don’t like my plan for Pyetar?” His voice was dangerously calm. “You want to keep him safe?”
