Tempests and Slaughter (The Numair Chronicles #1)

“But…you killed the gladiators who killed him,” Arram said faintly. She looked deadly.

“Oh, aye, that, but there’s those that scheduled us against them, and I mean to see if his feed was drugged. It’s been done before,” she said in response to Arram’s look of shock. “When an animal’s so good no one can beat ’im, no one bets against ’im. Gamblers don’t like to lose money at the games, so they make their arrangements. If that’s what happened, I’ll sniff it out, you’ll see. In the meantime…” She bumped her fist gently against Arram’s cheekbone. “Hekaja bless you for putting me back together—twice! I wish I could do better than thank you—”

“Your thanks is more than enough for me,” Arram said. He smiled at her. “Gods go with you, Gueda.” He watched her as she trudged off.

Musenda turned away from Ramasu, who was already on the wagon’s seat. They’d been talking quietly. Now the gladiator took Arram’s hand. “I told Master Ramasu it’s fine with us if you return. Not once did you treat us like animals. That’s rare. Take care of yourself, Arram.”

“If you will do the same, Sarge,” Arram replied.

The gladiator grinned. “That’s what I’m best at.” He followed Gueda back into the heart of the gladiators’ compound.

“Arram,” Ramasu called.

Arram mounted the seat beside the master and nodded to the gate guards as they drove through. He turned to look back at the camp as the iron gates clanged shut. He shuddered. He had learned a great deal while he was there, it was true. In particular, he had found that he wasn’t certain he could stay in a country where slavery was practiced. He had always thought he would manage to avoid it somehow when he left the university, or that he would become used to it. Now he understood he could not avoid it. The university managed to live slave-free, but it was a lie. The shadow of slavery lay over it. The arena was only the very worst of this way of life. Lesser forms of brutality to men and women were everywhere. When people were bought and sold, it was just too easy for free people to treat them as things. He couldn’t face that. Sooner or later he would have to leave his friends and his teachers. He could not stay here.



Lindhall greeted him with a warm hug. Preet announced her happiness over their return with a cheerful set of whistles as she fluttered all over Arram’s stale room. The master opened the shutters to air the place out and went into the sitting room next door. He returned with wonderfully cold tea—Arram had struggled to learn the spell for a year without success—and a small bowl of cherries. “With Hulak’s compliments,” he said, placing the bowl on Arram’s table.

As if by magic, the tortoise Sunstone appeared at Lindhall’s side, making his begging groan.

“No, Sunstone. You know very well they aren’t good for you,” Arram said with a smile. Little muscles all over his body were starting to relax. He hadn’t even known how tense he had been until this moment. He glanced at Lindhall. “How did Master Hulak know I was coming home?”

“Come—you know we masters talk all the time,” Lindhall replied, dusting Arram’s table with his handkerchief. “Ramasu kept us apprised on how you fared. We were concerned,” he said in answer to Arram’s questioning look. “We weren’t certain that the camp was the proper place for you.”

Thinking of Kottrun’s attack, Arram grimaced. “It was…educational,” he replied.

“So we feared. Will you go again?” Lindhall asked. He sipped his tea.

“I learned a great deal of surgery quickly,” Arram told him slowly. “I’d like to learn more, and make sure of what I’ve learned already. But perhaps I could do that in a city infirmary, and do the rest of my healing studies during plague seasons.” He looked away from Lindhall as his chin began to tremble. “It’s a horrible place.”

For a long moment the older man said nothing. Then he remarked, “Certainly I will benefit from your knowledge, however acquired. The patients are smaller here, but perhaps their reason for coming to us is more…bearable. Speaking of patients, I have three meerkat pups left with me by a traveling show. The adults were stolen, but—”

Arram grinned. “Meerkat pups?” He’d seen pictures and heard descriptions, but he’d never seen one in person. “Where, the menagerie?”

Lindhall chuckled. “No, these are pups. We’ve been fighting to keep them alive for three days. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather rest?”

But Arram was already on his way through the sitting room to Lindhall’s private nursery, stepping nimbly around Sunstone. Preet cheeped at Lindhall as if to say “What can you do?” and perched on the older man’s shoulder, ready to see these marvels for herself.

Arram went back to his room near suppertime with a small meerkat nestled in his shirtfront. He was trying to decide if it was worth the trouble of returning the youngster to the heated nursery before he went to the noisy dining hall, or simply looking for whatever Lindhall and the students had tucked away for snacks, when someone rapped on his door. He opened it, expecting to find a mastery student with Preet, who had gone wandering when the nursery proved too warm for her.

Instead he saw Varice, pretty in a pale blue cotton dress under her white robe. Her golden curls were pinned up, but some had tumbled forward over her shoulders. He wanted to touch them more than he’d wanted anything in his life. He moved forward to hug her—surely in a brotherly way—and remembered the meerkat in his shirt just in time. She was also holding a large basket with both hands.

She smiled at him. “I asked Master Ramasu how you were, and he said flat with exhaustion. When I didn’t see you at any other meal, I thought I’d bring you supper. There’s plenty if Master Lindhall wants some.”

He took the basket. “Oh, he’s at some meeting at the masters’ dining hall. Will you join me? We can eat in the study.” He led the way there, keeping his arms and the basket well away from his small charge. Once inside the study, he put the basket down with relief. It was heavy.

“Why are you walking so strangely?” she asked. “Did someone hit you?”

Arram grinned at her. “No. I’m being careful of my friend.” Unbuttoning his shirt, he showed her the meerkat pup. “Master Lindhall has the other two,” he explained. “He said he hopes they don’t get lively during the meeting.”

“I’ve seen the adult ones in the menagerie,” she said, gently lifting the pup out.