Kaseem raised the goblet of wine to his lips, pausing and inhaling before sipping and instantly missing the fine living of civilized Calimport, and cursing the business that brought him so far from it. While being the best on hand in the office of the Master of the Mines, the wine was a pale imitation of the full bodied reds he was used to back home.
The First Master, the highest ranked of the three Masters who ran this mine, sat across from him and prattled on with the polite but meaningless small talk that came before every business discussion in civilized discourse. Asking about such pointless matters as his journey, his family, and whether things were the same in the great city of Calimport since he had last been there.
As he did so Kaseem studied him, and disliked what he saw.
He was short and fat, his head shaven completely to the pate without a trace of stubble remaining, and his skull gleamed with scented oil in the light reflected by the pair of ornate lanterns on the low table between them. From the smell, Kaseem was fairly certain that close to every inch of the First Master's body (a man who exactly thirty seconds after meeting he had no inclination or wish to learn the actual name of) was likewise drenched in scent.
His features were effeminate, as was his manner, and kohl darkened his eyes, while some other concoction Kaseem was not aware of tinted his lips darker. What looked at first glance to be expensive rings decorated each finger on both hands, but after a moments consideration were revealed to be nothing more than gaudy and over the top imitations of class, while a pair of heavy golden hoops hung from each ear lobe.
The single ring Kaseem wore on the ring finger of his right hand, an ancient family heirloom and his only vanity, for he believed jewelery to be for women and not for men, was alone worth five to six times everything that the First Master owned, he suspected.
As he spoke he came across extremely effeminately and even worse his manner was obsequious and cloying, the sort of man that would metaphorically (or in actual fact, he thought to himself as a rue smile curled his lips for a moment) lick clean the arse of one of superior station to him if he thought it would advance his wealth, prestige or position in life.
A minor official in love with the pathetically limited power his position grants him he thought to himself, no trace of the disgust and scorn he felt for this creature masquerading as a man showing in his face or voice as he responded to the small talk with the odd comment of his own.
Finally, when he judged enough time had passed he held up a hand, cutting short the repulsive creature in the middle of some anecdote Kaseem had ceased listening to after the first few words. ''To business. Perhaps you shall see the city once more a great deal sooner than you expected First, as our master wishes me to express his discontent with the most recent shipments of ore from this mine. It is far below what the Pasha was expecting, and what has been received in the past. He wishes me to express his concerns that perhaps controlling a handful of guards and less than fifty slaves is a feat beyond your capabilities.''
For a moment the Master sat opposite him, his mouth actually opening and closing in a manner resembling some bloated, oily fish before he finally found his voice. ''Master Kaseem, i assure you the lower yield is nothing but a temporary setback. The most recent vein we were following has been mined clean, and the other veins we have found are sadly far smaller. But i assure you, i have the slaves working twice as hard as ever to expand the mines and the initial reports of a new vein we have discovered look most promising.''
For a moment Kaseem let his dark eyes drift around the room, already bored with the man, his excuses and most of all the conversation in general. ''That leads me to another issue our Master has that he wishes me to convey. Each slave costs him. While the price of the wretches brought here to work are barely even worth mentioned, each one does have a value, and the Pasha did not become one of the wealthiest men in Calimport by damaging and destroying his investments. In the last six weeks since the last status report you compiled, my agents have reported that up to twenty percent of your workforce has quite literally been worked to death, a fact which i shall point out you failed to mention in that report. Both the loss of our Masters investments and your failing to report it is unacceptable to our Master.''
Again the fat little creatures mouth opened and closed like a drowning fish as he desperately sought to frame a defence, or excuse, or blame it on one, or all, of his subordinates now doubt. However, before he could stop himself he could not help blurting out ''Agents...?''.
Kaseem smiled coldly as he spoke quickly, not giving him a chance to recover his composure or wits. ''I am our Masters right hand. Do you imply that i am as incompetent at my job as you are at yours? The fact that you were too stupid to suspect that i have agents watching both you, and all of our Masters employees offends me even more than the fact that you are currently trying to come up with some way to save your own skin, prestige and position and come out of this mess you are responsible for smelling like roses in the Pasha's eyes instead of accepting your faults and presenting me with a proposal detailing which changes you shall make to rectify this situation.''
At least this time the One Master managed to keep his mouth closed, but by now his skin had paled from its natural deep brown to something resembling thin, grey parchment stretched over his skull, while a growing sheen of sweat now added to the gleam of his shaven oil soaked head and dripped fairly regularly from his face, a fact quickly picked up on by the Master for he suddenly mopped his face with a cloth from his robe.
''I...shall stress to those men that work for me and maintain the mines that they are to be a little less...zealous when directing the workers, and shall see to it the monthly yield is increased, Master Kaseem. You have my word on this.''
Once again Kaseem smiled coldly, the smile not touching his eyes. ''I am sure that you shall. Our Master demands an increase of fifty percent in next months shipment or the month after that you shall be spending your days counting pennies in the cheapest of our Masters whorehouses in the slums of Calimport...if you are lucky. You shall also have no replacement merchandise to replace that which you have worked to death until at least the new year. Now, tell me why one of our Masters investments is currently hanging from a pole instead of doing what he was purchased to do.''
''He attacked a guard Master Kaseem, killing him and two others like a mad dog before my men were able to knock him unconscious! He hangs there as a warning to the rest of what happens should one of the insects -dare- to lay a finger on those that watch over them. After two or three days in the sun, he shall be put to death in a most unpleasant way as a further example.''
For a long moment Kaseem stared at him in complete silence, his face blank and completely unreadable. Many over the years would recognize that face, though few enough would be able to speak of it, for it was the face of death, the cold and emotionless mask each of the countless hundreds he had slain while doing his masters bidding (and before) had seen moments before their lives ended.
The face as the blade plunged home or slid across the throat.
The First Master however, was far too stupid to realize such a thing, as the closest he had ever been to a true killer was one of the bar room bully boys he typically hired as the guards of his operation, and exactly what it was that sat before him was something he could not even imagine for he had no concept of.
However, luckily for him, the Pasha had not given the order for his life to be taken and Kaseem was no mindless killer, killing only those he was directed to do so. A man must have a code after all...
After his long silent stare he finally spoke once more, his voice a little colder then before ''How is it this slave obtained a weapon? Let alone defeated and slew three of your men? He looked no more than a boy.''
The Master nodded, an expression of disgust and horror on his face ''The boy is a wild thing, a beast. He stole the blade from one of the guards last night as he made certain each of the workers were safe and resting well, and then slew two others before he could be controlled. But as i said Master Kaseem, he shall be dealt with harshly indeed.''
A faint smirk touched his lips once more as Kaseem replied ''So, the guard, or guards were busy raping our Masters investments and this child caught them with their pants down...quite literally. That is what you meant to say, is it not?''
The Master seemed lost for words and so he merely nodded.
Kaseem sat in silence once more for a long time, but this time his expression was thoughtful. ''Any slave that can send three armed and grown men to the worms is wasted here, especially when said slave is merely a child. You will have the boy cut down. His wounds shall be seen to and he shall be nursed back to at the very least a semblance of health so that he may travel with me to Calimport on my return through here from the other mines our Master owns in the region. He shall be kept apart from all slaves, and all those in your employ shall be warned that any causing the slightest damage to our Masters property shall be dealt with by me on my return. I shall view him once more after he has been cleaned up and if on my return he has so much as a single extra scratch or bruise you shall be held personally responsible. You shall do this now.''
Again the Master could do little more than gape like a freshly landed fish, but he managed to nod vaguely, then clasp his hands together and lower his head to a particular position in a Calishite gesture of submission to a superior.
''As for now, i shall retire for the night. Make certain that my room is prepared and that fresh clothing awaits me for tomorrow by the time i have finished making use of the bath house. Also, send one of your daughters to my room to await me, the young one, Liah this time. Food also, i have not eaten since midday.'' Then without even looking at the Master he rose gracefully to his feet, the movement clearly that of the warrior born, and then left the room, each step graceful and fluid despite his muscular bulk, always perfectly in balance.
Kaseem made his way across the estate of the First Master to the bath house, a separate building across a small, gauze roofed square and entered. He quickly dismissed the servants and stripped off his clothing, laying it neatly on a shelf in the changing room and then entered the bathing chamber through the large double doors.
His skin was the colour of the First Master's, but there the similarity ended, if such polar opposites could even be called similar. His build was extremely muscular, his shoulders broad and strong, the muscles moving gracefully beneath his skin with each movement. Rather than the muscle associated with hard work however, it seemed more that created and maintained by a strict training and workout regimen, each corded muscle on his gorgeous body trained and developed to perfection, neither smaller nor larger then it should be, each muscle developed to compliment and match his build and size, while not even an ounce of fat could be seen anywhere on his body.
The strenuous training and perfect build had unlocked something rare and utterly devastating in this deadly fighter, both fabulous speed and agility as well as size, strength and weight. He was the living definition that the old saying that big men were generally slower was not always correct, for he had rarely met a faster opponent than he over the years, nor had he often come across a man stronger than himself.
It was also clear from his graceful movement and the level of devotion displayed to maintaining himself at the peak of physical fitness (or even beyond) that his skill with a blade or even two was considerable to put it lightly.
All in all, Kaseem was nothing less than a killing machine.
He entered the scented water of the pool, his gaze on his companion, the only other occupant of the bathing hall this night, as he washed the dirt from his hair beneath a fountain set into the side of the pool for just that purpose.
Once he had finished and had pushed his hair back from his face his gaze met Kaseem's. He said nothing, merely raising an eyebrow, noting something in Kaseem's expression and prompting him to speak as he settled into the water.
''When we return this way, the slave hanging outside shall be joining us. He looks no more than eleven or twelve, and yet apparently slew three of this excuse for a mining installations guards. Such anger and raw talent is utterly wasted here, and i shall not let such potential be squandered by a fool such as the First Master.''
The other man nodded after a moment, still saying nothing and staring at Kaseem. He was built much the same, very well muscled but not to the same degree as Kaseem. He was also taller at over six and a half feet, towering over most people, but also slender. The most startling difference however was his skin, for unlike Kaseem's it was as black as pitch, marking his origin as the jungles of Chult or even beyond.
Reading a question in the look he received, Kaseem spoke once again ''As i said, it would be a crime to waste such potential out here on the edge of civilization. If after being examined and put through his paces he is found to be unsuitable or uncontrollable then his fate will be of no further concern to us, either back to the mines or into an unmarked grave.''
Kaseem turned away from his fellow gladiator and ducked his head under the surface of the pool, rising once more after a moment and adding ''But if he is suitable...i sense he may become one of our best assets in the arena, and bring a great deal of wealth and glory to House Batur.''
The huge black man stared at him in silence for a long moment once more...and then finally he nodded and turned away to finish washing.
Kaseem smiled to himself.
Perhaps this would turn out to be a fairly profitable journey after all, against all odds...
***