[color=D2B48C][center][h3]An Offer you Can’t refuse[/h3][/center][/color]

Rafim stood at a comfortable distance from the entrance to House Valens. It had been decided after the events of the morning that it might be better to see the Gladiators in action as opposed to buying out house Valens in full. The retainers Rafim had with him were there to take note and prepare a set of invitations. While the prince had his Owl Guard and Muziri had his own agents. Rafim had not sat idly since they had made it to this backwater town, in fact long before they had made it to the town Hakim’s Vizier had made preparations. Coin in the right hand, even foreign coin, was the right way to find gladiators. Rafim was one of the few members of the inner circle who actually understood what had happened in Anan Sol years ago. Rafim knew what he had to do in order to get his Prince back in place and secure his own power. As much as he loved his Prince Rafim was not a fool, the Vizier was getting on in his years and there were only so many more years he could spend out on the road. As if to illustrate the line of thinking the Vizier rubbed his right hip which often twinged before rain; he’d discovered the phenomenon when after leaving the Hitar providence where it nearly never rained. 

They had made careful note of the Gladiators as they had entered the House of the Valen gladiators. Now they were making their way out, no doubt they had agreed to sign on with Loreia but Rafim had talked the Prince into buying out the Gladiators individually. If Loreia had a team that was worth anything then they would have to outbid other potential sponsors. This was a gamble but at least this way they had stock to work with and if they needed to let Gladiators go they could. That and it might bring the Lady of the House running which was good business too. To Rafim’s knowledge she had been down on her luck since the death of her father and that made her an easy target for a hostile takeover.

That of course had not been how Rafim had pitched things to the Prince since taking advantage of a young woman would have been the last thing Hakim would want to do. So he’d gently urged Hakim into taking over the Gladiators she ‘let go’. What the Prince didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

After Rafim was certain the last Gladiator had left to make preparations for the evening’s event he dispatched his couriers armed with the seal of House Iqbal, gold and promises of sponsorship. Once they had made contact the letters had instructions for appearance at the arena an hour before tournament start. There were too many for them to be a single team and Ezekiel would no doubt wish to organize them into two teams beforehand. The rest could meet with the Prince before their shot in the arena.

With his mission complete the Vizier set off at a limp with his retainers in tow. There were preparations to be made and things to attend to. Hopefully the Valens’ girl didn’t catch wind of the plot until it was too late. Rafim grinned to himself. All according to plan. 

[hr]

They had moved part of the Prince’s camp to a space a few yards from the entrance of the Arena. It was already starting to fill. A port town on an evening with mildly cheap entertainment. Ezekiel stood with his back to the tent pole of the arming quarters they had moved as a means of arming any...less than satisfactorily armed. Ezekiel was not looking forward to this since quite frankly the descriptions he’d seen from the couriers were...questionable at best. Atleast he wasn’t being asked to train them. Just sort them into teams and send them to no doubt an embarrassing death in the arena. Sipping at a metal container that had uncut Raki in it Ezekiel grimaced. Thank Akzum for strong booze, it took the edge off of watching idiots charge to their deaths. Now all Ezekiel had to do was wait for them to show up.

[i]Let amateur hour begin[/i]

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