hawkmasks-an easy target for anyone with the courage and skill to oppose us.
Well, someone did. If you issue enough challenges someone, sooner or later, is
going to call you. Gladiators know the penalty of pride-of displaying strength
when it isn’t necessary. A wise opponent will listen quietly and use knowledge
against his enemy. Tempus has done what we should have done.”
Jubal listened with growing astonishment. “Then you’re saying we just let him go
unmolested?”
“Our goal has always been power, not vengeance,” Saliman insisted. “If we could
ever seize power without confrontation, that’s the route we’d take. Is
confronting Tempus the only way to regain control over Sanctuary? If not- then
we should avoid it.”
“You keep saying ‘we.’ Look at me. What good is a leader who can’t fight his own
battles?”
“Like Prince Kitty-cat? Like Molin Torch-holder?” Saliman asked with a dry
chuckle. “Or the Emperor himself?”
“How often have you used your sword in the last two years?” Hakiem interrupted.
“I may have missed some accounts, but as near as I can figure it’s only once-and
you could have avoided that fight.”
“I used it the day of the raid-” Jubal replied, unimpressed.
“-And it didn’t help you then-when you were at the peak of health and skill,”
his aide picked up the thread of the argument. “There’re ways to fight other
than with a sword. You’ve been doing it for years but your gladiator’s brain
won’t let you admit it.”
“But I can’t fight alone,” the slave insisted, his greatest fear finding voice
at last. “Who would join with an old man?”