"I hope you are pleased with yourselves," Azim sneered from beyond the bars. They were back in the more luxurious cells now, fruit and even watered wine had been provided. Calliope took a long drink and made a face at the taste but noticabley didnt spit it. Instead she swilled the wine around in her mouth for a moment and then swallowed.

"Moderately, would have been better if I had a hat, like a really big hat," Calliope admitted as she leaned against the far wall. There was a cut across her left arm where an arrow had grazed her but other than bruises she had escaped the battle unharmed. Azim glowered, put off his stride by her nonchalance.

"The rest of the slaves will go to shaitain tomorrow morning, but the two of you... the 'Mamba and Namir' are reserved for a special fate," he leered.

"You will fight each other tomorrow, if you win slave..." he nodded to Bahadir, "the Sultan will grant you your freedom." He turned and glared a Calliope.

"If you should win pirate, we shall tell the people you were set free, and your body will be fed to the tigers. I hope you both sleep well," he sneered, then turned and strode out of the cells. Bahadir was quiet for a moment as he crunched a juicy apple between his teeth.

"SO what do we do?" he said finally, "I've no doubt my throat would be cut the same as yours." Calliope picked at the cut on her arm till it began to bleed then picked up the wineskin. She regarded the pit fighter from the shadows, her eyes glittering.

"I suppose you will have to kill me then," Calliope replied, her grinning teeth white in the candlelight.