“Welcome to the Skull Squadron stable and your new home,” Captain Darien said, checking a scroll he was carrying with the list of names of the recently arrived gladiators as he led My‑re and General Pol up a winding path. Smooth, large rocks were buried for traction and ran through a well-maintained zen garden toward a picturesque, two-story dwelling. The upper floor had seven sets of open shutters under an orange roof. The lower level had seven pillars holding an awning over the front porch. Soft, welcoming lights from lanterns were strategically placed across the front. It was a tranquil and surprising setting for a gladiatorial stable.
Opening the double doors and motioning them in, My‑re scanned the immense room. A short flight of stairs led up to the rectangular first floor, whose great length was magnified by wooden supporting pillars decorated with sheer white drapes. Desert plants stood in front of each. Plush chairs in groupings of three to four were scattered around the area. A large, set tabletop made from ancient oak, surrounded by numerous cushioned chairs, inhabited the center of the sand-colored room. A large water basin bubbled over, and the excess fell into a clear water pool. Stairs led to a balcony on the second floor with numerous doors. Weapons and shields adorned with the emblem of a gauntlet clenching a skull decorated the walls, along with paintings depicting gladiators in combat. The ceiling opened to a sunny sky with its awning drawn back. My-re noted a mechanism to close it in inclement weather.
As My‑re stepped in, Darien removed his boots and said, “Sandals, please.” My‑re saw a crisscross wooden framework to the side where shoes could be placed. The diamond-shaped sectionals were all empty except for one set of black boots.
General Pol nodded in approval at the interior as he removed his footwear.
Placing her sandals in a cubbyhole, she enjoyed the feel of cool sandstone tile under her feet. Then, the aroma of cooking meat and baking bread wafted into her nostrils. My‑re’s stomach grumbled in response. From the far side of the room, a man emerged with food. He appeared to be a veteran warrior and sported a head of full, pitch-black hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He had a neatly cut, diagonal eyebrow slit on his right brow. A stern expression covered his face as he approached. His deep blue eyes gleamed with the spirit of youth, more befitting a boy than a man. She immediately recognized him.
“Corg!” My‑re shouted in surprise. She ran to him, her feet slapping against the tile and echoing across the room.
Corg barely had time to set down the tray filled with a feast of various fruits, bread, meats, cooked eggs, and spicy potatoes before My‑re wrapped her arms around him. She squeezed him tight, almost causing both of them to stumble.
“Well, that’s a welcome I wasn’t expecting,” Corg replied.
My‑re pulled away and slapped him hard on the arm. “Yeah, I was a little upset you dumped me off at Valamantis to travel to the Isle of the Eye without you.”
“I’m not sure dumped is the correct term. I planned to escort you the entire way, but I had unfinished business with that Rirorni Bal’Taz in Mordant. The safest place for you was back in Valamantis under the protection of Lord Garlor Shanmarrik. I knew he’d ensure you’d safely get to the Isle of the Eye. Speaking of Rirorni…” Corg’s voice trailed off, looking around My‑re toward General Pol.
Captain Darien approached with the Rirorni following. “Corg, this is General Pol. It’s good to see you again. Grimwood must have been keeping you busy of late, eh? Your presence in the Primus arena has been sorely missed.”
“Yes, an absence unwanted,” Corg replied, then turned to General Pol. In the Rirorni native language of Rathiri, he said, “Greetings, General Pol, and welcome to the Isle of the Eye.”
“At last, someone of class and refinement to converse with,” Pol replied in Rathiri. When My‑re turned toward him, Pol added, “Present company notwithstanding.”
“Pardon my tongue, General Pol. My Rathiri language is small. I can greet, bid farewell, and offer several insults,” Corg explained in broken Rathiri, then winked at My‑re.
General Pol glanced at the two, then moved away, grabbed a plate from the immense table, and hastily filled it with food from the tray Corg brought. Pol spilled a couple of pieces of bacon and several potato wedges onto the tabletop.
My‑re snorted in disgust, which caught his attention. When her eyes went to the food slopped on the table and back to him, he used his hands to scoop them onto his plate and then raised it to Corg in thanks.
“Yes, eat up before everything gets cold,” Corg said, clapping his hands together.
My-re sat and filled her plate.
“With our latest two sparrows safe in their nest, I will take my leave,” Captain Darien said, inhaling the food’s aroma before leaving.
Catching his gesture, My‑re said, “Join us.” She scooted out an empty chair next to her for him to sit.
“Thank you, Lord Protector My‑re, but I have a regimen for my meals. However, eat your fill and enjoy the hospitality of the Isle of the Eye.”
As Darien left, General Pol looked up at her. “Better luck next time,” he said, scoffing in amusement.
My‑re ignored him. As Corg fixed himself a plate, sat, and ate, she asked him, “Spymaster Timshard mentioned that Lord Protectors are granted title to land?”
Corg coughed with the food in his mouth. Swallowing, he said, “Yes. After you have eaten your fill, I’ll show you upstairs to your uh…land, well actually, quarters.”
“Quarters?”
“They are quite large,” Corg added.
“I always had the impression that ‘land’ would have included acreage,” My‑re replied.
“I never thought of you as a farmer,” Corg said.
“I’m not, but having land doesn’t always mean I need to farm,” My‑re responded.
“Well, when you think about it, you are on an island with, at any given time, over a thousand Lord Protectors. Lady Greywand does grant land, but it’s normally on the borders of Alastari’s more rambunctious neighbors, so if they cause trouble, Lord Protectors are there to keep the peace. These locations could also be more civilized, so I reasoned you’d prefer to stay here,” Corg explained.
“Yes. Quarters just seems…small.”
“Think about it this way. You are an island with limited space, surrounded by an almost impregnable moat, protected by the best warriors in the land, with an academy of battle mages schooled on even how to open and close--mostly close--Chaos Gates, and led by Sheila Greywand, the most powerful mage of the age. It’s the ultimate gated community,” Corg said.
My‑re agreed to the logic and nodded toward General Pol, “Just ensure my quarters are not next to him. I’ve dealt with enough Rirorni to last two lifetimes.”
Grinning slyly, Corg said, “Don’t worry, I’ll set him up to live in the pigsty. He’ll likely be more comfortable with them anyway.”
General Pol looked up and grumbled under his breath.
My‑re grinned to herself. It seemed General Pol was already picking up the language.
After eating, Corg presented their separate living areas and rooms along the balcony overlooking the main floor.
When she stepped in, the cool sand-colored tiled floor welcomed her. It felt good on her normally hot feet. Off to the left, an elaborately decorated pitcher and basin occupied a counter in a washroom. A four-post, full-size bed with white sheer drapes, which could be opened or closed, would assist in keeping insects out. Fluffy white covers with two long pillows beckoned her to sleep on them. A large chest to hold her belongings waited to be filled at the foot of the bed. When she lifted the lid, it gave off a strong smell of cedar. Inside were extra blankets for cold nights. A sitting area around a small alcove held wood to start a fire. Two cushioned wood chairs were set at an angle by it, ready for occupants. A table with paper, pen, and ink was prepared to record life events. Shelves above it and to either side could hold novelties, artwork, or books. She then noticed a thin booklet. When she approached, she saw its red cover with a drawing of a warrior standing tall with a sword raised over his head in victory. A songbird’s pleasing melody traveled through the room’s only window. Taking the booklet, she stepped closer to the opening on the far side of the room. The shutter doors, facing the front of the dwelling, were open but could be closed during inclement weather. Using the light shining in, she briefly thumbed through the booklet, which dealt mainly with rules to follow in the gladiator games. Looking out from the window, she saw neatly trimmed foliage of the zen garden. She spotted a cut path a little way from the dwelling. It looked like a nice place to stroll and get lost in her thoughts.
“Here, I think you’ll like this,” Corg said, walking past her room.
She stepped out to follow him, but he had disappeared. My‑re hadn’t noticed the open spot Corg traveled. The color of the walls and the floor matched perfectly, giving the illusion of a solid barrier. Poking her head around, she saw a long open closet. It held a dozen different colored sets of clothes used for various occasions. She felt the cloth with her fingers. The material was light, thin, and silky. The elegant patterns would have taken a seamstress an untold number of hours to fashion. Lined up along the wall were an equal number of stylish shoes and sandals. Some were simple, while others had straps that would wrap her legs. All for her! She beamed with excitement.
“I think I got your size right, but if not, we can change them out,” Corg said.
Breathing in deeply and taking in the room, My‑re felt that this was more than she had ever had in her life: a place to call her own. She had new clothes not worn by others, food to keep her belly full, and protection from people who cared for her.
Corg said, “Now, take your time. Get changed and-”
My‑re interrupted, wrapped him in a warm hug, and said, “Thank you.”
“Oh,” Corg said with surprise in his tone. After a few heartbeats, they parted, and he continued, “You’re very welcome. As I was saying, take your time exploring the villa. Then, when you are ready, get changed. Your horse is in the stable, and we can tour the island.”
“Wait, I have a horse?”