Chapter 90: Chapter 90: Conflict of Interest

Part 8: War

Chapter 90: Conflict of Interest

The Colosseum was a different place now, with a surprising amount of gladiators taking shifts at the Garden. Groups and cliques were a natural part of their lives, but a surprising number of people came together to form a new faction that made up a quarter of the active fighters, and more in those retired or on leave. With only a small group of vocal detractors who wished the rest would shut up about it, the Moonlit Garden was a hot topic of conversation.

It separated the gladiators into two camps: those who went there to work or indulge themselves and those who didn’t. It surprised Jonas how much it united them, but he wasn’t complaining. Not when he could just walk into the locker room and have a dozen people calling out his name in greeting. Jonas raised his good hand and called out wordlessly back at them. He sat down in front of his locker, staring at his armor.

“Hey Jonas,” David came up to him in just his underworld, punching him in the shoulder. “My fight got rearranged this week. I’m good to work a shift in two days if you still need someone.”

Did they? Jonas screwed up his eyes as he thought about it. Somehow it fell on him to organize that. Razia helped when they started, but now Razia was a bit preoccupied with…Well, she was distracted. “Sounds great,” Jonas said, punching him in the leg. Even if David didn’t have a shift, no reason for him not to hang out anyway. Everyone was tense, like the city was holding its breath, and another warm body was welcome just in case.

Jonas had quickly become used to being a rising star. In the past three months, his only loss had been at the Garden. He’d won every match since his debut, and it was enough to get him noticed. It was a hard thing to live up to, being Demetrius’ apprentice. Some people were jealous, others sought to knock him off his pedestal, but a surprising number of gladiators rallied behind him.

Are you up for taking over if Quentin’s really dead?

He shook his head and got dressed.

The practice yard was home away from home, and at least there everything was business as usual. Fighters did their drills in a line, each strike coming with the shout of the Colosseum’s new head trainer, Hamish. Hamish was a new face, put in place by Amicus. He wasn’t very popular, and he didn’t seem to mind that fact one bit. Jonas went past him and right to the sparring section.

Grabbing a heavy wooden sword and a shield, Jonas matched up with Renee with a sword and board of her own. She stretched, lowering into a fighter’s crouch. “Good to see you back here, pretty boy. Your arm doing better?”

Jonas rolled his shield arm around. Range of motion was mostly fine, but extending that arm took some extra strain. The wound had healed fast and clean enough to not ruin his career, but it wasn’t perfect. “You should worry about yourself, Ren. When I’m through with you I’ll be better looking. Oh wait, I already am.”

“Eat shit!” With a laugh, Renee launched herself at him.

It was so easy to fall back into familiar motions. The last two weeks had been too painful, too chaotic, too much. It was nice to just lose himself in the fight and let his body do the work. Jonas pivoted out of the way of her downward slash and struck. HIs sword bounced off her shield and the two broke away in an instant, circling one another. Both wore fierce grins as they waited to see who would crack first.

Taking a bit of inspiration from a friend, Jonas raised his shield and lumbered forward. He wasn’t the biggest or strongest gladiator, but neither was Renee. She raised her shield in time for him to crash into her, sending her stumbling backwards. She recovered in time to parry Jonas’ first strike, but not his second. His sword clanged against her helmet. Her legs buckled but she stayed upright.

“You good?” he asked, backing up.

Renee straightened up. She tilted her head until her neck cracked and then nodded. “I’m good. Nice hit. I always forget how fucking fast you are. It always makes me -- “ Renee shut up and launched herself at him.

Jonas blocked, backing away and doing everything he could to dodge or deflect the furious assault. Renee gave it everything, and Jonas let his brain shut off and his body work for him. He didn’t know what it was like for other fighters, but for him, it was like a dance. It wasn’t hard to see where each strike would be next and be elsewhere, one step ahead. He was nearly at the back wall when he saw his opening. Renee overextended and Jonas sent his knee into her stomach.

She doubled over, looking up in time to see his next attack coming right for her. She raised her training sword and Jonas knocked it out of her hands. She let out a sharp curse, and then another as he rapped her head with his sword.

“Dead,” he said.

Rubbing her aching hand, Renee grumbled, “Yeah yeah. Good one. This next time I’m gonna break you.”

“Gonna have to catch me first, Ren,” Jonas got back into position, feeling pretty good about himself.

“Jonas!” He looked up to see Bradon jogging towards him. “Amicus wants to speak with you as soon as possible.”

“He say what it was about?”

Bradon shot him a look. “Does he ever? Look man, just go see him before my ass gets chewed out for ‘gross incompetence’.” He puffed up and put on Amicus’ sneer.

Snickering, Jonas sighed. “Alright, I’m on my way.” He dropped his sword and shield on the ground and was ready to run up there when Renee got in the way.

“Hey. Are there any shifts open? I could use the shards,” She smiled sheepishly.

He racked his brain to try and recall the schedule they decided on. As far as he could remember it was mostly full for the next while. Gods, there was so much to remember. “Next week we might,” he said. “Didn’t expect a whorehouse to be your scene.”

Renee shrugged. “It’s either go drinking there or go drinking with some of the oldtimers who just wanna go on about their glory days.”

“Fair.” Jonas bumped knuckles with her and left the practice yard.

It was still another four hours away from the first fights of the night and the Colosseum was already bustling with workers getting the place ready for customers. Various food stalls were in the main thoroughfare, already cooking up the snacks they’d sell before the fights began. Jonas’ stomach protested leaving them behind, but Amicus wasn’t the most patient man in the world. A good ten minutes later and he climbed his way to Amicus’ office and knocked.

“Enter,” Amicus called out.

Amicus’ office was the same ostentatious mess it always was, with no rhyme or reason to any of it other than to show off his wealth. Jonas didn’t get it. He was far from an expert on aesthetics but it screamed insecure to him. “You wanted to see me, sir?” Jonas said.

Amicus considered him from the big plush chair behind his oversized desk. His gun hung partially over the edge, and his short, curly hair on the sides of his head were more gray than the last time Jonas had seen him. “Why is it,” he started, deep voice filling the room, “that Quintius is no longer in my life but his legacy continues to linger long enough to piss me off?”

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“Excuse me?” Jonas blinked.

Amicus leaned back in his chair, hands folded together on his stomach. “It’s come to my attention that a number of my employees, you included, are currently moonlighting at a business owner by our former executioner. Is this true?”

“Yeah, but --”

“And is it true that there is currently a waiting list to work at this business?”

“Kind of, but -- “

“So,” Amicus boomed, cutting off Jonas yet again, “A lot of good, hardworking people who fight and bleed for me are currently fighting and bleeding for someone else too? Not just someone else, but someone I absolutely despise. Tell me, Jonas, why should I allow this to continue?”

Shit. Jonas grimaced, staring at Amicus, wondering if he would get a chance to speak this time. The silence continued, Amicus sat there with an infuriatingly smug smile on his face. “Not sure you have much of a choice, sir!” Jonas answered brightly. “Everything we do is off hours and away from here, and it’s not directly impacting the Colosseum.”

“Isn’t it?” Amicus pressed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “Weren’t you injured defending Quintius’ business? You haven’t been able to fight or make me money in two weeks. Did I not lose a valuable head trainer to Quintius’ shit? I don’t even know how much that’s going to affect things going forward. I could be paying for the consequences of that moonkissed son of a whore’s actions for a long time yet.”

Jonas’ jaw set. He wasn’t the type of person to get angry. Everyone loved how roll with the punches he was, but this bothered him. “We all mourn Demetrius. He was killed by a south side gang who’ve been showing their face north. We’re all doing our part to make sure that gang doesn’t press further northward.” Sure a lot of that was at the business, and so many of the gladiators just wanted to play, but it was a popular spot now.

“Why should I care about any of that?” Amicus demanded. “What does that have to do with me? I’m not making any money off of Quintius’ venture, I’m losing staff because of it, and it’s taking focus away from your real job. All it would take is one word and you’re all banned from working there. If you want any fights going forward.”

He’d never liked Amicus, but now Jonas understood why Quentin took a swing at him. Threatening to take away his fights, it was…there wasn’t much Jonas feared. He had no family, and all his friends were here. His life was here, and so was his future. Wasn’t it? Are you up for taking over if Quentin’s really dead?

“Maybe,” said Jonas, breathing deeply, “and if you did that, you might lose some fighters.”

“You really think they’ll choose him over a real job?” Amicus scoffed. “I know what you pay, and it’s not nearly enough to make up for the purse you get from a good fight.”

“I think they’d choose Demetrius over you,” said Jonas. Maybe it was just him being hopeful and believing they’d do it just because he would, but it felt right to him. “Demetrius gave his life helping out Quentin, and a couple nights ago Quentin…took a bad beating from the same people. I think they’ll choose Demetrius and a chance for revenge over you.”

His beady eyes looked greedy. “A bad beating you say? Is the moonkissed still alive?”

Jonas stood up. It was hard to go with the flow when faced up with someone like this. It wasn’t an honest opposition he could just deal with. Amicus was a slimeball and there was no directly fighting someone like that. “Quentin is still around,” Jonas said, “so don’t get your hopes up. If you want to try banning working at the Garden, go for it. See what happens.”

Amicus sneered. “You really going to throw away a promising career for a dead man and a freak?”

Are you up for taking over if Quentin’s really dead?

He shook his head. “I’ll throw away a promising career for my friends, no question. You want to give me the boot, fine. I’ll be okay.” Without waiting for another response, Jonas left, ignoring Amicus’ yell to come back.

The walk back to the Colosseum was good for Jonas. It gave him time to think, and time to get in a bit of exercise now that his practice time was cut short. There was no point sticking around and acting like Amicus had any power over him. It wouldn’t be too long until the Garden opened up, and Jonas had a place there if he wanted. He jogged the rest of the way there, luxuriating in the only slightly scalding spring day.

He was soaked with sweat by the time he got there, but there was always a chance to take a bath before work. Jonas let himself into Quentin’s house and peeked inside his room. Quentin lay there unmoving, blanket pulled halfway up his chest. In the two days since being beaten to death, Quentin still looked like the corpse of a man beaten to death. That didn’t stop Razia from sitting with him, book out in her lap.

“...Begone, foul spirit, for while I yet draw breath I’ll…oh, hi Jonas.” She smiled up at him. It was hard to tell with Razia’s complexion, but there were bags under her eyes and the twitchiness of someone who hadn’t really slept in a couple of days. “You’re here early.”

“Amicus might try to ban all gladiators from working here,” he said.

“Oh,” said Razia. “That’s not great. What are you going to do?”

Jonas shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know,” he said. Really, it seemed like he had two choices, and neither of them sounded great. Either he abandoned the Garden and doubled down on the Colosseum, or he abandoned the Colosseum and stepped into a role he wasn’t sure he wanted. Hanging out and smacking around rude customers was one thing, helping run the entire operation was just overwhelming. “I’m going to talk to the others and see what they think.”

Razia got up and went to him, taking his hands in hers. “I really appreciate how much you’ve been doing for us, Jonas,” she said, making him want to squirm. If only she could hear his thoughts. “I just need it for a little bit longer. Just until the end of the week, and then everything will be okay.”

He looked past her, fighting to keep the concern and pity off his face. “Is he doing any better?” he asked. He wanted to ask if Quentin was still dead, but didn’t want to upset her.

“His heart’s still beating,” said Razia. “As long as that keeps going, I’ve got faith.”

Faith was more than Jonas had. The closest he came to believing something would come of it was genuine surprise that the body hadn’t begun to stink yet. He forced a smile and said, “It’ll pay off. End of the week, right?”

“Right!”

After a quick bath, Jonas made his way over to the Garden. Only a few of them were there that early, and Lucy waved him down. Jonas came up to her, smile coming to his face. The youngest of the girls was really kind to him and always seemed to want his opinion on things. He appreciated how friendly she was. “Hey Lucy,” he said. “Everything going well?”

Lucy looked around nervously. “As well as can be expected, I guess. Jenna and Kelli have talked about abandoning ship if things get worse, but…you won’t believe this, but Isa’s been telling everyone to sit tight and that everything will be okay.”

Jonas blinked. “Isa? You sure?”

Lucy’s bright blue eyes lit up. “I know! She bit Kelli’s head off for talking about leaving and told Jenna to take her bitch with her if she’s not confident. They nearly got into a fistfight!”

“My money’s on Isa,” Jonas said, smiling fondly. He didn’t think Isa liked him much, but she was his favorite of the girls to frequent. Every time he came up to her with shards in hand, she just rolled her eyes and then the fun began. The rest of them didn’t have the right touch, as nice as they could be. “How are you handling it?”

She faltered. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m still shocked. We all saw what happened. We saw that giant beat Quentin down and just…” she shuddered, and Jonas couldn’t blame her. It happened so fast. One second the fight was going, the next Christophe had Quentin on the floor and was hammering him to death.

Jonas pulled her into a hug. She squeezed him tightly. He stroked her hair comfortingly. That’s what he was supposed to do in that situation, right? He had no clue, but Lucy didn’t fight him or pull away. She just leaned into him further. “We’re going to get that bastard for what he’s done. I promise.”

That was one thing Jonas could promise. Regardless of what happened with Quentin, regardless of what Amicus decided, they’d get their revenge. First for Demetrius, and then Quentin too if he didn’t get his ass up. Jonas would lead a group of angry gladiators south himself if that’s what it took. Christophe didn’t realize who he pissed off. The Warlords may have been dangerous, but Jonas and the others fought because they loved it. It wasn’t going to end well for them.

He pulled away, smiling at Lucy. “Nothing’s going to happen for a while, at least. We got the better part of a week before the truce is done with. How about we get ready to open up for the night?”

Maybe he wasn’t up for taking over, but he could handle it for a few days. Jonas could buy them some time until they figured out a real plan, at least.