To say this was not what Loreia was expecting to see first would be a bit of an understatement.
It was one of the things Amulius had predicted, that she would receive only the very youngest of fighters and the very oldest. Either unproven and untested as herself, or well past their prime and clinging to dying glory, desperate to return to the arena and have one more taste of it. Either way, unfit to face warriors in their primes. But still, she expected washed-up Venatrian gladiators, not... a former Sariyan champion. To say nothing of the odd condition he seemed to have. His garb was strange and completely foreign to her. She'd met Sariyans before, mostly nobility as this man apparently was, but none decorated in quite this fashion. It was... strangely beautiful, though it made her feel a little sad for reasons she could not immediately discern.
"Lord Duwabir," she said, a bit unsure whether to speak directly to him or to his servant. She was aware that the guards around her were somewhat on edge, since the mention of the disease. "Do you—does he—how is it that you fight? Can you see clearly?" The veil seemed like it would be problematic. At her side, Amulius cleared his throat softly.
"And how is Lady Valens to know you speak the truth? That you are this champion you claim? There could be anyone under there."
Loreia sighed quietly, lifting a hand slightly to encourage the steward to ease back. "He asks harshly, but my steward's question stands. Can you prove you are who you say you are, a former champion of the arena?"
"My maste-" A hand gently fell on Tahir's shoulder as he began to answer the questions put to him, cutting him off in the middle of his sentence. Tahir turned to his master behind him who was pointing with a single finger to a table at the site of the courtyard. Tahir could see what was upon it, and he knew what his master wanted.
He began to walk over to it, before remembering the company he was in and stopped. He fugitively glanced back at the beautiful woman on the dais and bowed once more again. As he did so he felt his cheeks flush, he was not used to being around women such as this one. He was not used to being around women at all.
His master paced back and forth on the sands, he was impatient. So Tahir hurried to the table and retrieved what his lord had spied from afar. Atop the table, alongside jugs of wine and water, was a bowl of sweet citron fruits. It was too early in the year for them here, they must have been grown under glass or brought up from south at considerable expense. He plucked a large and ripe one from the bowl. It moistly glistened in the palm of his hand. Tahir thought it looked delicious, but this particular fruit was not for eating.
He turned, and threw it at his master.
The Lord Duwabir's hand seemed to appear from the folds of his robes as if by magic and stopped the fruit as it arced through the air mere inches from his veiled face. His head had barely turned to see it as he did so.
It was an impressive trick, one Loreia doubted she could replicate herself, but then again, Lord Duwabir had obviously known it was coming, and had even instructed the servant in doing it. Still, she found something about the interaction between the two of them to be quite genuine. It was in the way he calmed the servant's nervousness, which he could've been feeling for any number of reasons. It strongly gave off the impression that they'd known each other for some time. Not just two fools looking to dupe a young noblewoman into letting them into the arena.
"That was quite something," she admitted, keeping her expression mostly neutral, though a hint of a smile crept to her lips. "But I'm afraid we'll have more than fruit thrown at us in the arena tonight."
Tahir looked to his master. The Lord Duwabir's head was cocked slighted to some side, and though Tahir could not see his face, he got the distinct impression that his master would be grinning right now if he could. Without looking away from the woman under the awning, the Lord drew his sword and began to spin it.
It was lazy at first. Its great broad and curved blade gliding through the air like some fat silver serpent. It flourished to his side, then drew cuts across his front. It grew faster, spinning and whirling with a mind of its own. It wheeled it the sun, flashing and gleaming like a diamond from the mines of Ghanahdpur. Faster and faster, until Tahir's eyes could not follow it, all while his master paced back and forth across the sands.
Suddenly he stopped and hurled the fruit high into the air. He turned his back and took a single step forwards. For a heartbeat the glistening fruit hung in the air far above the sands of courtyard, and then it fell downwards towards the world below. Tahir held his breath, he had seen his master do this hundreds of times, but it was still a tense moment.
The Lord Duwabir spun on his heels just as the fruit reached head height. His sword darted out and slashed three times backward and forwards.
The criton fell to the ground, and slid apart into four equal slices.
Loreia's smile grew at the display, even as a few of the guards had lowered their spears fractionally upon the sudden drawing of the man's sword. "Alright, I believe you. I will allow Lord Duwabir to seek his glory at my side in the arena." At that, her steward immediately made a low sound of disapproval, but she cut him off before he could voice it. "Has he ever fought in the arena as a team since his... condition, developed? I do worry that communication between us will be required, and he will not have you to speak for him in the middle of a match."
"Yes, my lady. My master has... lived with his conditon for many years now. There have been other teams... but none of them were... appropriate for my master's patronage." Tahir was uncomfortable in the lie, he hoped they would not press him. What if they knew of others? What if they had heard the stories of the corpse who hid amongst the living? "He understands your tongue better than I, and in time you may learn there are other ways to speak than just with words."
She supposed it was a tradeoff she had to accept, for the benefit of having this experienced fighter on her team. There possibly wouldn't be time to learn his other ways of communicating if they couldn't earn themselves a moderate level of success right now, but that was just a risk she'd need to take. "Very well, then. And what am I to call you? Both of you, as I assume you will be staying with us as well." A boy his age would not be permitted to enter the arena, but it wasn't as though Loreia would turn him away.
"My master's full title is the Thakur Kaseem Adz Duwabir, noble Lord of the glorious Raj of Ghannahdpur. I am called Tahir... and am but his slave." He tried to smile to the noble woman at that, but it came out as a grimace. They had won, his master had got what he wanted, but there was a bitter taste in his mouth. He was no gladiator of this House Valens and its beautiful lady, he was just... just a slave.
Kaseem it was, then. Loreia nodded her approval. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance, and have your assistance, Lord Kaseem. And you, Tahir. As you may know already, I am Loreia Valens, daughter of Lucius Valens. But please, just call me Loreia." She glanced behind them, at the sound of other voices echoing through the courtyard, from the newest arrival. "Now, if you'll excuse me, it would seem I have another guest to speak with. Thank you again."
His lord bowed stiffly once more and departed for the shade of where Tahir stood beside the table. Now they would see who else would make up House Valens.
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