Uh oh, this was so not going to be good. I couldn’t believe Dera was provoking this girl. Barbette was a head taller with about a thirty pound weight advantage and I could tell from her overly confident expression that she thought her physical proportions were going to win her the fight.
“All right, all right,” Gunner finally interrupted. “Let’s step into the circle so you can show me what you’ve got. I’ll accept any style of clean fighting as long as it’s HTH. Dera, that’s short for hand to hand. Right now I just want to see what your strengths and weaknesses are, and what techniques—if any—you have already been taught. There will be no use of weapons, so if you have so much as a twig on you, relinquish it now.”
When neither Dera nor Barbette moved, he continued. “Everyone else gather round. You and your partners will be in here soon enough. So watch and hopefully learn a thing or two.”
And with that, he motioned for the fight to commence.
The second I looked up, Dera was flying through the air toward Barbette. I was surprised and actually a little impressed.
Dera’s body crashed into her opponent, taking them both to the ground. However, she was immediately flipped over, landing on her back with a grunt. Barbette straddled her and moved both hands to Dera’s throat whereas Dera could only reach her opponent’s arms. This concerned me. I wouldn’t consider choking to be in a clean fight. They were flailing around, trying to break each other’s hold, both their faces red from either exhaustion or lack of oxygen—I couldn’t tell which. Suddenly, Dera’s fist came up and broke Barbette’s hold while simultaneously connecting with her temple. At first I wondered if there was any force behind the blow, but then Barbette wobbled, her eyes glossed over, and she fell forward, effectively trapping Dera between her body and the ground.
“Yes!” I screamed, jumping up and down.
Two trainees quickly moved in, grabbed Barbette, and carried her off toward the infirmary. Others pulled Dera to her feet; a frenzy of loud cheers easily overtook any other sounds on the thousand foot long field. I squeezed my way through the mass of bodies and only made it to Dera as the crowd around her started to disperse.
“Wow. Just wow! I mean…Dera that was incredible,” I yelled and threw my arms around her neck.
“I know, right? I’m not usually that quick.” She took a few deep breaths before continuing. “Baby had it coming to her, you know?”
“No, actually I don’t. What did Barbette do to make you so mad anyway? Didn’t you two just meet?” I asked, truly confused with the whole situation.
“I saw her in a match about a week ago. She was paired with some two-hundred pound brute. And she beat him easily,” Dera said incredulously. “I couldn’t let it go to her head.”
I nodded in agreement but didn’t really understand my roommate’s competitive nature or how any of what she’d just described had to do with her.
An arm wrapped around me and I turned to find Quinn at my side. This was the first I’d seen him since before the introduction to our new classmates.
“Good job, Dera. Oh, and I definitely won’t be making any more bets against you in the future. That’s for sure.” He said the last part under his breath.
Dera startled. “I’m sorry; did you just say you bet against me? Really?”
Quinn nodded sheepishly. Gunner, who had come up mid-conversation, also nodded and then looked away.
“Well, then please tell me who, if anyone, actually bet on me to win?” Dera asked.
“Why I did, of course,” came a roguish voice from behind us. Dera and I both swung around to find Rafe standing off to the side, a smirk playing across his lips. “Miss me, darlin’?”
Dera was rendered speechless but grinning. Unfortunately, I had no time to appreciate the moment or ask what it meant.
“Henley,” Gunner said from a few feet away, “you’re up. Pick a partner, love, and let’s see what you can do.”
So engrossed in Dera’s win, I completely forgot that I myself still had to fight. My hands started to sweat while my heart rate picked up and I thought it was safe to say my adrenaline was through the roof. Dera saw me struggling for control and came to my aid.
“Hey,” she whispered. “You’ve got this. Just pick the first guy that won’t meet your eyes, someone who looks unsure of himself—maybe a little awkward in the way he holds his body…could be from a previous injury. Don’t worry too much about how big he is. Worry about how self-assured he is, how cocky. Any man itching to fight a girl just so he can has some serious issues. You’ll know them by the way they’re amped up, fists clinched, can’t stand still when you’re looking them over. Stay away from them at all costs. The rest of the lot should be just fine.”
While Dera continued her odd pep talk, I focused on counting my heartbeats, a coping mechanism my brother had taught me years ago. As the number of beats eventually slowed down, my breathing steadied and I regained some of my confidence… not that I would win the match, only that I would survive it.
* * *
Taking Dera’s advice and choosing one of the trainees that I previously saw favoring his left leg, I was now standing in the fight circle with my opponent, Drew. Gunner gave the motion to fight. There were cheers and chanting, my new classmates obviously expecting a similar performance to the one Dera had given them. While I hated to let them down, there was no way I would be getting the best of this six foot, one-hundred and sixty-or-so pound man who currently hemming me in like I was his last meal. His limp, at least for the moment, was nowhere to be found.
Drew rushed forward and I darted to the side, but not before taking a jab to the ribs. I steadied myself just as he came at me again, striking my face then quickly pulling away. I winced, the warm liquid running from my nose alerting me to the damage more than any pain.
Backing up a step, I crouched down, ready to attack. He moved forward and I charged for his legs, taking them out from under him. A double leg takedown just like Keegan taught me. He fell to the ground but pulled me with him. When he landed, he twisted me over and all I could feel was this excruciating pain in my shoulder. He pressed harder and then slid his arm up and around my neck, effectively blocking my airway. I tried to adjust, to break free from his grip, but he was so strong and there was too much pressure building in my head to think clearly. My vision started to narrow, everything became white and fuzzy, and I started to panic because I knew this guy was taking it further than he should.
That was when I felt the slightly familiar rush of electricity coursing up my back. It was just starting to spread to my neck and down my arms when his eyes went wide and a string of curses fell from his lips. He must have felt it because he instantly tightened his grip. The energy in me spiked for a second, trying to get out, but in the next it was simply gone. I vaguely heard someone yelling in the background and then my opponent was being forcefully dragged away. I had a fleeting thought that Graff was standing over me and then mentally winced. Why couldn’t he have seen me in something like archery?
I fought to remain conscious, to keep a clear head, but there was no catching my breath. In the next moment everything went dark.
Chapter Eleven
I woke to muffled voices filtering in from another room but the pain in my chest and throat immediately caught my attention. It was almost unbearable and for a moment I struggled to take deep breaths. Slowly opening my eyes, I found myself lying on a narrow bed surrounded by several other empty ones and lots of medical equipment. The infirmary.
“How in the world did this happen during a training session? And with all of you around, at that?” Marta whispered heatedly from her position next to my bed. She stuck a needle into a small vial of what I assumed was medicine and turned to face Graff, who sat stiffly on the edge of the mattress. He ran his palms over his face and without replying, turned toward me. I briefly saw the guilt in his eyes before they widened at finding me awake. He moved closer to my side, cupping my hand.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” he
asked, voice low and strained.
Trying for a smile but failing, I mouthed a shaky, “I’ve been better.” He squeezed my hand but his face fell and I instantly regretted my choice of words. A second later the door opened and all three of us focused on Rafe and Gunner, who were dragging in my opponent Drew. Drew’s face was a bloody mess with one eye already beginning to close up. Gunner remained by the door while Rafe roughly deposited Drew in the chair then shoved him back and barked, “Don’t move. Don’t say a word.”
Marta noticed Drew’s face and looked to me then to Graff’s hands, which were cut and starting to swell. Disappointment took over her features, though I wasn’t sure for whom.
A loud commotion sounded from outside the door right before Dera, who looked furious, burst into the room. She started to speak but one glare from Marta made her stop short. She inhaled through her nose, averted her eyes, and slowly walked over to the end of my bed. A moment later, Nessa stepped up from one of the back counters and handed her mother a bowl filled with liquid and a cloth.
“Thank you, Nessa.” Marta took the bowl and set it on a table next to the bed. “Please prepare me a yarrow poultice for swelling.” Then she turned to address me. “I still haven’t been informed of what exactly happened here but I have a few ideas. Now tell me, my dear, how are you feeling on a scale of one to ten? And exactly where do you hurt?”
Pointing to my face and throat, Marta ran her eyes over me before deciding to start with a gash on the back of my head, which didn’t even hurt until she touched it. She informed me that I’d been out for close to ten minutes and she’d already done a brief examination, finding most of my injuries to be on my head. She became silent as she cleaned the blood off my nose and mouth but then said, “Well, you certainly have a nasty wound on the back of your head. It might need a stitch or two, but I’ll have to clean it more thoroughly to be sure. You have a laceration on your lower lip but your nose isn’t broken, which is good.” She tenderly inspected my neck. “Someone choked you?” She sounded incredulous. She directed her anger at Graff. “I will ask you once more: What the hell happened here?”
Graff, who had moved to the other side of my bed, clenched his jaw. “I’m about to find out. Right now, I need you to tell me how bad off she is.”
Seeing Graff’s expression, Marta sighed and let her question pass. “So far, I haven’t found anything that’s broken. Can you help me sit her up for a minute?”
Graff gently helped me up, taking care not to hurt my left shoulder which at the moment felt as though it was on fire. Then he positioned himself behind me, resting his hands on my lower back for support. His warmth was comforting and for a moment, I felt that spark between us, but the pain Drew had inflicted on my body was so unbearable I ignored it and chose to concentrate more on breathing. Seeing my pained expression, Dera clenched the rail at the end of the bed, knuckles white.
“Henley, I’d like you to raise your right arm as high as you can, please,” Marta said.
Doing as instructed, I stopped just above my head. “I’m having some pain in my ribs,” I whispered; it hurt to speak.
“Okay, you can put that arm down; now slowly raise your left one.” I only got my arm about a foot off the bed when a sharp pain pierced my left shoulder and I instantly felt faint. Graff must have noticed because he moved from his current position behind me and slowly guided me so I was lying down again.
Nessa arrived with some salve and was instructed by Marta to apply it to my left rotator cuff and rib cage.
Marta turned to her desk, grabbed a pencil with some paper, and started what looked to be a list. “Rafe, I’ll need you to go to the town doctor for antibiotics. I’ll write down what I need. And take Dera with you. She looks like she could use a timeout.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I heard Rafe reply but Dera didn’t say a word.
Nessa finished her ministrations. “Mama, do you want me to make a recovery drink for Henley? Someone needs to tend to Drew and…well, I’d rather not.”
“Right. I should definitely be the one to address Drew’s needs,” Marta said with a scowl. “Okay, honey. Go ahead and make her a cup with poppy seed extract along with our normal recovery blend. Just remember, only six drops of the extract for the entire drink. And warm it; it’ll help soothe the inside of her throat.”
While Marta walked off to tend to Drew and Nessa busied herself with whatever drink they wanted me to have, Rafe set a chair down by my right side. “Dera,” he said, looking over at her with concern, “why don’t you take a seat?”
Leaning close to me, Dera whispered, “Hey, I know you can’t talk really well so just listen. That guy Drew,” she jutted her chin toward the guy in question, “he’s Jake’s older brother. I saw him smirk when you picked him. The guy is way out of control. Always has been, I hear. He’s got a loose wire or something. But man,” she said, eyes widening, “you should have seen Graff. As soon as he knew what was going on, he was across the field, pulling Drew off of you faster than anything I’ve ever seen before. The next thing I knew, he was beating him to a bloody pulp. I mean, it took Gunner, Rafe, and Quinn to pull him off the guy. And jeez, it all just happened so fast.”
Dera was interrupted when Nessa brought over the recovery drink, handing me the cup and ordering me to down it. “It has a bitter taste, so you might want to take small sips,” she warned. I did as I was told and it was absolutely terrible. It also hurt to swallow but each sip soothed the pain. “I have to prepare a cleansing bowl for Mama.” Nessa winked as she left us.
Now that Dera was seated beside me, we both had a good view of Marta and Drew. Graff leaned against the wall not four feet from Drew, standing guard. Rafe and Gunner flanked either side.
Nessa walked past us carrying a bowl similar to the one she’d made for me, except she was sporting a tightlipped grin and a gleam in her eyes. She set the bowl down on the table next to Drew and without saying a word walked back to us.
Marta rang out the cloth from the bowl with a puzzled look on her face. She turned to Nessa blank-faced but stared long enough to make the girl squirm. Then she nodded, turned back to her patient, and placed the cloth on Drew’s right cheek. He immediately jerked back. “Ahhh, man that stings,” he yelled.
“What did you put in there?” Dera whispered to Nessa.
“It’s just witch hazel.” When we both gave her an incredulous look, she added, “Oh fine, maybe I added a little cayenne powder to it.”
Dera burst out laughing and I had to dig my fingers in the mattress to avoid laughing myself.
Looking back up, I found Rafe holding Drew down while Marta finished disinfecting his wound. “That should do it,” she said, handing off the cloth and bowl to Gunner. “I’ll give you a salve to apply around the eye area. Besides your face, do you have any other injuries to speak of?” She was brisk.
Drew’s face contorted and I thought he’d complain more but instead he shook his head and stood. “No, Ma’am. I’ll be fine.”
When he looked to Graff, he asked, “So, can I go?”
“For now,” Graff told him, stepping into his personal space. “But you’re suspended from training indefinitely and know that this matter will be taken to Jonas for further reprimand. I’m ordering you to the confines of the rec house for the remainder of the day, so make sure you go straight there. Then report for duty at the Mess Hall tomorrow morning at 5 a.m. You’ll be on kitchen prep until you hear otherwise. Is that understood?”
“Yes. Sir,” he ground out sharply and without so much as a look in my direction, he let Gunner escort him from the room.
Marta walked over to Rafe and handed him a piece of paper and a small pouch with a drawstring closure. “Here is the list of things I need from town, including what you’ll need for payment. Dera can help out with some other things on the list.”
Marta looked around at everyone in the room and added, “Well, what are you all still standing around for? Out with you. Henley needs her rest. I don’t want to see anyone
in my infirmary until after dinner. Are we clear?”
Dera bent over to my ear. “I guess we’re being kicked out. Just concentrate on getting better and I’ll be back to check on you tonight.” After that, she left with Rafe.
Graff walked over to me, stopping at the far end of the bed. “Try to get some rest.” He stood there for a moment looking as though he wanted to say more but finally just shook his head and walked back across the room.
“Marta, is there anything you need while I’m out?” he asked as he reached the door.
“Well, since I’m assuming you will be visiting Sofia to discuss Drew’s new duties, could you please have her make up a barley broth for our patient? I’ll send Nessa over in a bit to pick it up.”
“Sure. I’ll ask her to pack something up for you and Nessa while she’s at it. Oh, and Aunt Marta? I’ll be coming back this evening after dinner to relieve you for the night.” He said this as if it wasn’t up for discussion.
Marta raised an eyebrow. “We’ll have to wait and see how well our patient is doing before we decide whether I’m to take the evening off.” She moved closer to Graff and kissed his cheek. “But… thank you dear, for your concern,” she added with a smile.
Something passed between them and Graff let out a short laugh. “Right. Well…I’ll see you later then,” he said and walked out.
By the time Marta returned to my side, I was so drowsy from whatever was in that drink I could barely keep my eyes open. She covered me with a fresh warm blanket before silently taking a seat beside me. I was so tired I almost didn’t hear her when she leaned back in her chair and whispered, “Well now, I do believe my nephew has finally found something outside of Council business that interests him.”
Before I could contemplate her words, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter Twelve
Looking around the infirmary, flashes of the fight made me wince. My head whipped around at the sound of a deep sigh. Graff sat in a chair, feet propped against my bed and head dipped slightly toward his chest. He truly was beautiful, but in a rugged sort of way. In sleep, he looked less dangerous, more his own age; perfect bone structure, long eyelashes, and full lips. He was only a glimpse of the boy I’d thought about all these years.
The Outerlands - Sedition Page 8
