The First Blade of Ostia by Duncan M. Hamilton

There was no way that would ever happen though. He was far too powerful, far too influential, as his ability to have the Ladder doctored showed.
    He laughed too when he thought of how his father must have reacted when he heard his plan had backfired, but knew he wouldn’t have long to enjoy his victory. Amero felt sorry for the inept idiot who had arranged the whole thing; Renald was unlikely to be pleased with them. Amero knew only too well what his father’s displeasure could be like. There was something very satisfying about the thought of provoking more of it.
    The duel had frightened Amero, however. It had taken everything he had to win, and even then he knew it was luck that Banda had fallen for his tricks. His duels were only going to get harder. He would not get the chance to ease into professional duelling and find his feet with a few less challenging matches. It was just a matter of time before his father got his wish, and saw Amero humiliated in the arena.
    There was only so much punishment that his body could take each day before it needed rest. Even the training regime they had now was exhausting him. Each morning when he woke, he felt like he had been charged over by a stampeding bull. Given time—the year or two most fledgling duellists would have before they faced their first high ranked opponents—he knew he would be able to cope. He had the natural talent and the physical competence, just not the time to develop it. There was no point ruing the situation he found himself in; there was no way around it. How to deal with it and come out on top was the challenge.

Chapter 11
    B ryn had only found the time to make a couple of brief visits home since leaving the Academy. He knew he was neglectful, and determined to call more often when time allowed. While at the Academy he had called home at least two or three times a term. He knew his mother had been expecting to see more of him since he had left, but if anything he had been busier.
    His sense of familiarity grew as he made his way through the streets that led him home until he was finally standing at its front door. He knocked and had to wait only a moment before the door opened and he was greeted by the sight of his sister. She looked at him for a moment, her expression changing from surprise to haughty indifference.
    ‘And you are?’ she said.
    Bryn smiled. ‘It’s nice to see you too, Gilia.’
    ‘Mother was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten where we live.’
    ‘May I come in?’ Bryn said.
    ‘I suppose so.’ She stood aside and let him pass through.
    His family home was an apartment on the ground floor of a building in Barons, a few streets back from the Blackwater Road. It was larger than his new apartment, but it couldn’t be described as spacious. It had never seemed too small when he was growing up and the advantage of being the only boy in the family was that he had a room to himself, while his two sisters had to share one. After Amero’s apartment though, he wondered how a family of five had lived there for all those years without driving each other mad. He supposed that at times they had.
    Gilia led him into the living room and the table around which they had eaten all their meals together. His mother, Isotta, had come out from the kitchen to see who was there.
    They knew that he had started his career as a professional duellist, but he had not told them about his first match. Telling them would be awkward, but unavoidable.
    His mother said nothing but made her way across the room and embraced him. Gilia watched, still displeased by Bryn’s lack of contact but her countenance had mellowed a little.
    ‘Sit,’ his mother said.
    Never one to disobey her, Bryn sat.
    ‘Are you eating properly? Are you still living in Oldtown with your friend?’
    ‘Yes, and no,’ Bryn said, interrupting what would have been a continuing stream of questions.
    She was already moving in the direction of the kitchen by the time he spoke. She stopped