Norwin added several chunks of wood to the fire. 'Rage is getting old, and he wants a pension. This could be his chance. He has money saved. He would bet it all on himself. If he won he could retire.'

'If he won,' said Persis.

'If he didn't, he wouldn't have to worry about a pension,' observed Norwin.

'You are a hard man, but, rightly or wrongly, I care about the people of Orises and their lives.'

'As I said before, they are lives they chose to lead,' pointed out the little man.

'That was true – in the past. But they joined Circus Orises because we do not engage in death bouts.'

Norwin stepped to the table and lifted the first pile of debt papers. 'In Baggia last month,' he said, 'Circus Palantes drew eighteen thousand – and charged double the entrance fee. Everyone wanted to see the fight between Jaxin and Brakus.'

'I know that.'

'Well, at least think about it,' advised Norwin. 'Put it to the gladiators. Let them make the choice.'

'I'll talk to Rage,' said Persis.

Persis Albitane eased his large bulk into the seat and gazed around the vast wooden building. He had never liked visiting Garshon's establishment. It was a haunt, he believed, of robbers and cut-throats. Few Stone citizens gathered here. At the far end of the building a horse auction was being held in a circle of sand, surrounded by tiered wooden seats. Close by several whores were trying to interest newcomers. Their perfume hung in the air, mixing in with the smell of horses, damp straw, and sweat.

The odour was far weaker here in the eating section where several open windows allowed the sea breeze to filter through, and Persis found the aroma of cooking meats more than compensated for the occasional noxious scent from the main hall. There were more than fifty bench tables in the eating section and most were full – a testament to the quality of fare served here. A serving wench approached him, but Persis told her he was waiting for a guest, then sat with his gaze fixed on the double doors.