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A servant brought him a wooden shield and sword, which he accepted with a grimace, swinging the useless blade to get the feel of the weapon.

At least no one could kill him either today but a mob could do him serious damage and unlike Kyden and the other real Badari, he didn’t have magical powers of healing.

He decided to stick to his original strategy of ridding himself of the riffraff first while avoiding the actual experts.

If he engaged with the good fighters first, even untrained yokels could swarm him while he was distracted and bring him down.

Trumpets blew, at which Benet rolled his eyes.

The pomp was ridiculous here in this grassy field with the situation set up the way it was.

It was about as far from honorable combat as it could get and nothing like the arenas he fought in back home.

He’d believe himself to be acting in a farce except for having been kidnapped and now facing a throng of opponents.

The mob was advancing, weapons raised. Suddenly there was a roar and the Badari came sprinting onto the field, moving at the speed only a true Badari could manage.

He carried one of the practice swords but no shield and came directly to Benet, slapping him on the shoulder, causing him to stagger several feet to the left. “We fight together.”

“What the blazes do you think you’re doing?” The noble had his hand raised, which stopped Benet’s opponents in their tracks. He was addressing the Badari, plainly displeased.

“We Badari fight as a team,” the warrior said, pointing to Benet and then to himself. “I stand with my brother, always.”

Benet stuck out his hand. “I’m Benet and I’m grateful to have you on my six. But why?”

“Call me Dmitri,” the big man rumbled. “And I want to hear more of these Badari you claim to know. If I wish to learn more, I have to keep you alive, yes?”

They shook hands and pivoted to face the other men, who were glancing at the noble, plainly uncertain what he wanted them to do now.

“All right, proceed,” the man said grumpily. “It’s not what I had planned but we all know Dmitri does what he wants unless his owner is here to pull his reins. What are you waiting for?”

Benet knew what he was going to do and his plan hadn’t changed a bit even with Dmitri’s arrival.

He raised his sword and shouted defiance, running to meet the oncoming throng.

Dmitri was at his back and the epic fight commenced.

Apparently there were rules, which Benet wished had been explained to him too but if either he or the Badari touched one of their opponents with their sword, men in bright yellow tunics pulled their victim from the fray.

Of course Benet’s ‘touch’ was a smashing blow or an uppercut with the edge of his shield so most of the men he engaged with weren’t leaving on their own two legs.

Towards the end he and Dmitri were back-to-back, brawling with the core of men who’d known what they were doing and the fight was fierce.

Benet was in the grip of battle fever, which sometimes overtook him in the arena at home and having Dmitri with him was like fighting as a team with Kyden so no one was going to defeat him today.

Finally the fight ended, with the last few men lying on the ground, battered but not dead, as they would have been had they met Benet in the arena in this kind of a situation.

Dmitri threw his sword far away, raised his head to the sky and howled a victory cry.

Benet dropped his faux weapon and shield and grinned, chest heaving.

He and his teammate slapped each other on the back and turned to face the viewing stand.

Benet’s gaze went to the girl first. She was deathly pale and seemed shocked by what had gone on. He was glad he hadn’t killed anyone in her presence. Noticing him eyeing her, she managed to smile and gave him a little nod. Dmitri waved to her with a cocky wink.

The noble was on his feet, chest puffed as if he’d won the battle personally.

“Oh yes, you’ll do, Badari. When you take the field at the Games wearing my crest—which you will do, no more of this rebellion, hear me?

All my rivals will know they’ve been bested and the prize will be mine.

” He turned to the girl, who Benet assumed was his daughter, going by the resemblance in bone structure and shape of the eyes, except she was beautiful.

Holding out his hand, he said, “We’re done here. ”

“Yes, father,” she said meekly, rising and brushing wrinkles from her elaborate dress. As she walked away with her parent, followed by the hangers-on, she cast a shy glance over her shoulder at Benet.

“Grand Duchess Marushka,” Dmitri said, not even breathing hard. “I’m her official bodyguard. She’s like a daughter to me.”

Benet heard the implicit warning. “Lovely girl. Now what?”

Dmitri stepped to his side, resting one brawny arm on his shoulders and said, “Now we retire to my house here on the estate and drink. Tomorrow we start training so you perhaps have a chance to live.” The Badari shook one finger in Benet’s face.

“Not to escape. There is no escape from the Outlier Empire. This place is like a black hole—once you’ve been sucked inside, there’s no way out. ”

Deciding to reserve his opinion on the issue until he gathered more intel, Benet walked with Dmitri off the field.

The Badari waved away the squad of guards who had obviously come to collect Benet and return him to his dungeon or somewhere else equally depressing.

The officer in charge frowned at Dmitri and made rapid fire threats in Outlier but the big warrior laughed and kept walking, taking Benet with him.

“Badari stick together so you will live with me. I have an extra room.”