Starving was no fun. It was definitely affecting my healing too. My shoulder and ribs didn't hurt anymore, but my right knee was still busted up good.

I hardly cared. It was the hunger that consumed every waking hour. I'd heard somewhere that you could survive weeks without food, but only a few days without water. Well, I hadn't had a drink in six days, so I probably should have been dead.

Bastards. Starving me like an animal. Still, I hadn't died yet, and I'd rather die in the arena than give them the victory of signing the contract.

As I lay there on my bed, slipping in and out of a weird restless half-sleep, I ran through my options for the fight.

Playing dead? Possible, but risky. I'd have to put up a bit of a fight first, or my opponent might just stab me from range. It's what I would do.

If I could get behind them, then maybe, just maybe I could sink my teeth into them and get a bite to eat! None of these bastards were human, so it wasn't like I'd be a cannibal. Still weird trying to eat something while it was still alive, but I was desperate.

I chuckled weakly. Who was I kidding? Even if it was a human, I'd still take a chomp out of the fucker. Blood had water in it, didn't it?

I drifted off again, comforted by my last resort plan. Shift, grab, bite. That would make me feel better.

I was so far gone that, at first, I thought the scratching sound was part of my dream. I was chasing a rat under the bed, reaching, lunging—never fast enough to catch it. A tasty little rat, jiggling its furry little body, always just out of reach.

When a green light permeated the dream, I snapped out of it. The room was bathed in a gentle green light.

I looked around, just in time to see the spider dude drop from the ceiling. He landed on the bed, straddling me, and if I'd had anything in my bowels at that point, it would've come out.

A foot away from my face, I could smell his rancid spider breath.

"Good, you're still alive." He unstoppered a leather flask and held it over to me. "Drink that."

I didn't hesitate. Didn't ask what it was. Could've been poison and I wouldn't have cared. I upended the flask and let the thick, salty liquid run down my throat. It tasted incredible. Like bone broth boiled down to its essence, it seemed to nourish me instantly. Forgotten energy flooded back into my limbs, and wisely, the spider guy jumped back off the bed.

He clacked in irritation a couple of times before speaking. "They've had you under extremely tight guard. Getting in here was extremely difficult, Earl. I hope you appreciate the great personal risk I've taken to be here."

I wiped my mouth and waved the empty flask at him. "Got any more?"

"No." He caught the empty skin as I tossed it back. "If you drink too much, your regeneration and health will be too fast. They'll know something is wrong when they come for you tomorrow. Giving you even that much is a risk, and so it would be a good idea if you take your exhaustion levels tomorrow."

I was barely listening. I just wanted more of the good stuff. "Not even half a—"

"No," he interrupted. "I've just explained why. Now listen carefully."

I let my head drop back against the pillow, not interested in listening if there wasn't more flask juice forthcoming.

He clacked again with irritation. "Do you still want to join my employer?"

I opened one eye. "If you're still offering, and I'm still breathing, then fuck yeah. But we both know that the Monarch won't sell to you."

His mandibles twitched in amusement. "No, they won't. But my employer has made an offer that will be hard to refuse. We still expect them to, if they want to appease the Archons, but let's just say… when you fight tomorrow, you won't be fighting alone."

I pushed myself up slightly. "I don't need anybody to fight my battles for me. Just give me more to eat and drink, and I'll get through it."

He shook his head. "No, you won't. Your leg is badly damaged, and we won't be able to heal it properly until we get you away from here."

Straightening to his full height, he tossed a small bag onto the bed.

I picked it up. "What's this? Healing?"

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"Something to help you sleep."

I frowned. "Beer would be better."

"Just take it, Earl. Starvation prevents you from sleeping properly, and you will need a clear mind for tomorrow."

His green glow vanished, plunging us into darkness. A few seconds later, I heard the scraping noises on the ceiling again and listened as they got progressively quieter. Then I popped the tablet and lay back, licking my gums, savoring the last taste of whatever the hell had been in the flask.

When morning came, spider creep had been right. I felt a lot better. I tested out my leg and found that it was still utterly fucked. Metal balls against knees were definitely on my list of things to avoid in the future.

The attempt was well timed, because a moment after I sat back down, wincing in pain and sweating from the exertion, Captain Estwin and the Able arrived at my cell, flanked by two guards.

I glowered at them as they entered, but looked rough enough for them not to notice my new zest for life. The Able was focused on his duty and held out two clipboards for me.

"Last chance before the fight." He angled it so that I could see. "House Besas have upped their offer. Again. And we have another offer. A good one."

I smirked. "Let me guess—my secret admirer?"

He shook his head. "Call them as they are, Earl. The Siroth. And in a sense, yes, they've come back with a vastly improved offer, but we find their contract… unacceptable, and that is not whom I'm referring too."

I groaned loudly, and fell back into the bed. "I can't be arsed with this shit. Tell me or don't tell me, but don't trot around it like a dog about to have a shit."

He grimaced at me, a dark look that showed his true loathing. "House Garazal. Another powerful Archon house. And they're willing to match whatever Besas offer, plus they say they have a special something that they're sure will interest you."

"Doesn't matter anyway. I've decided I'll take the secret admirer's offer or none at all. And they can shove their special something up their arses for all I care. Bunch of stuck-up bellends the lot of them."

"I do not think you understand, Earl," Estwin pressed. "Sign with either of them, and we can postpone the fight. They can heal you up, provide you with gear and you'll have a real chance. Continue refusing and you'll have to fight now, and make no mistake, you will not win. Your only hope is that your opponent takes pity on you and doesn't kill you."

I groaned, grabbed both clipboards, studied them for a moment, and then tossed them across the room and swung my legs over the bed.

"Fight must be soon? I'm looking forward to it."

The Able swallowed nervously.

Estwin put a hand on my shoulder, and I swayed under its weight, but I held my ground. "You're in my way, Estwin. I need that chair to walk."

"Earl, you're insane."

"We've covered that."

"No, seriously. These are amazing opportunities for you. Either House would set you up for life. You don't have to die in that arena."

I cracked my knuckles. "Nah, I back myself to come up with some bullshit."

He hadn't passed the chair over, so I took a tentative step past him, and gripped the back of the wooden chair before dragging it toward me. "How long have I got before the fight starts? And am I still allowed to use your armor and weapons, or are you withholding those from me as well?"

The Able looked like he wanted to scream, kill me himself, or just cry. "You can stop this with a word!"

"So can you," I replied with what I hoped was an easy smile. "So weapons? Or do I just use my hands."

The two men looked at each other at a loss. Finally, the Able shrugged. "The Monarch has spoken. If this is his decision, then so be it. Will you take him to the armory, Captain? I don't think I can spend another second in this wretch's company."

Estwin saluted but said nothing as the Able stormed off muttering. He turned to me and shook his head. "What a mess you've created. Follow me, please."

I nodded and then slowly followed him out of the room.

After a few minutes of very slow going as I dragged the chair along as a walking stick, Estwin snapped at one of the other guards. "Could you get this sack of sorry a walking cane please? Or we'll be late for his funeral."

He grunted out a perfunctory, "Yes, Captain." Then he set off at a jog.

Apart from the sound of my dragging chair and our breathing, we walked in silence until the guard returned with a walking stick a few minutes later. I took it without a word, leaving the chair discarded in the corridor. Whatever happened today, I doubted I'd need it again.

It was easier with the cane, a lot easier, but by the time I reached the armory, I was blowing out my arse, and my leg was burning. I leaned against the doorway as Estwin opened the door, and staggered in as he commanded the guards to wait outside.

He closed the door behind us and spun on me again. "I seriously can't understand why you're doing this. It makes no sense. There's a good man in there somewhere, Earl, I just know it."

I laughed. "Nah, not a trace of one, Estwin."

He exhaled through his nose. "You came here to rescue your brother. That's a good motive. Who will rescue him if you are dead?"

"Looking out for your little brother and being a good person are two different things. And if you want proof, if you ever meet him, ask him what he thinks of me," I chuckled again. "Now he's a good man, and he'll tell you the truth. I was born a nasty bastard and I'll die a nasty bastard. Now button it and let me pick my weapons for the fight. Choosing blind here after all, seeing as you didn't give me a dossier."

Estwin shrugged. "That was your choice." He lowered his voice. "Last time you fought someone similar, you chose a dagger and buckler."

"The barbarian woman I killed?"

He offered an imperceptible nod.

I wandered over to the daggers, and mused over the possibilities. Couldn't exactly use it when I had to hold a walking stick just to move. At that thought, a solution hit me. What I needed was a dagger and a walking stick. I scanned the room, eyes landing on the spear rack. I'd not used one yet, but I knew where they were.

Pleased with the idea, I hobbled over and selected the coolest looking weapons.

Estwin's voice rumbled as I held it aloft. "And how exactly do you plan to win with a spear when you've never used one before?"

I laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "One thing at a time." I was working on being able to walk before I could run. Or in this case, fight. I hobbled across the room to the bucklers and snatched up a buckler.

"There. Done. Can we go to the antechamber now? I need to rest the leg, and I find it quite relaxing in there."

Estwin stared at me, unconvinced. "If you're using a spear, I suggest using a proper shield."

"Sadly, you fuckers starved me for days," I snapped. "How the hell am I supposed to carry a heavy shield?"

He winced but didn't argue as he led me off to the antechamber.

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