Drastic Times (Book 3): Fierce Freedom

by Rock, R. A.

  God damn it. We had walked into a trap. Another one.

  “The red haired woman is beautiful. She’d look even more so under water. Like a mermaid. Hard to breathe down there, though.”

  Yumi gazed at me in consternation.

  “Is he saying what I think he’s saying?”

  “That he’ll put Grace in the water chamber if we don’t comply? Yes, I think he’s saying that.”

  “God-fucking-damn it.” She stared at me. “This whole thing was a trap from the beginning.”

  “I know.”

  I switched to a telepathic conversation because it was faster and couldn’t be overheard.

  “We have to fight,” I sent on a tight channel to Yumi, keeping my mental shields firmly in place. “Or he’ll hurt Grace.”

  Yumi made a show out of slowly taking her blades from the sheath on her back and inspecting them while we talked in our minds.

  “But then one of us goes to the water chamber. It’s a no win situation.”

  “How could we give him what he wants but without one of us losing?”

  “The only way no one loses is if we both quit.” Yumi was gazing at her blades and she appeared to be ignoring me but her mind was completely focused on our conversation.

  “But then he’ll hurt Grace.” I pointed out, scuffing the dirt with my boot. “Wait, that’s it. Not that no one loses. But what if we both win?”

  “How?” Her mental voice was bewildered.

  “Well, a tie isn’t losing, is it?”

  “Spit it out Dvorski, we don’t have time for this.” She glanced up at Bakersfield, who appeared to be waiting calmly while he took something from a tray a server was passing him.

  “We fight. Give them the show they want. Then we cut each other at the same time. We both draw first blood at exactly the same time. No one loses. We both win. Grace doesn’t get hurt.”

  She looked up at me then, and I loved to see the look of admiration in her eyes after all this time of sad or angry expressions.

  “Sometimes you’re so clever it makes my head spin, Red. Okay, let’s get on with it.”

  I gave her a grin and pulled my sword from the scabbard at my waist.

  “No accidental nicks.” She warned me.

  “Of course not.”

  “Of course not, he says. I don’t know how many tiny scars I have from practising with you, Dvorski…”

  Her mental chatter petered out as I lifted my blade.

  The crowd roared so loud it hurt my ears.

  And we began.

  THE ARENA CHEERED madly as Chad came at me hard, holding nothing back. I parried — my mind laser focused on keeping him from hitting me.

  We had trained in the Isshin-Ryu Karate lineage, which was mostly empty handed, but also focused on the bo and the sai. But we had been so interested in swords that we had also studied Kenjutso — the Japanese martial art that focuses almost solely on swordplay. Swords had been one of our favourite weapons to train with. We went to summer camp every year for a month where we had trained with a private instructor.

  So we were good.

  Too good maybe.

  The noise of the crowd faded into the background as I clashed swords with Chad. He had the advantage since he was bigger and stronger than me. But I also knew his weaknesses and I exploited them as much as I could.

  We moved back and forth across the arena, our feet shuffling through the dirt, blades clanging. We had done this a hundred times before but never had I felt so on fire. So focused on the fight. Neither of us could hit the other so we had to be on our game. And I mean really on our game. Because if one of us drew blood then the other was going to the water chamber — and might not come out.

  The fear and dread at the thought of having to go in there made my stomach clench. Someone had tried to drown me recently and I had no desire to be trapped underwater. Being locked in the water chamber would be terrifying.

  But the idea of Chad having to go in was even worse, somehow, so I was being as careful as I could. The pressure of battle was increased a hundredfold knowing that I couldn’t even nick Chad — and I couldn’t let him cut me.

  I had Chad moving into the boards and our blades were crossed as I pushed him back.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” he sent, an amused smile on his face.

  “Oh don’t start quoting that frickin’ movie right now, Dvorski, we have to stay focused.”

  He gave a hard push and I flew backwards, landing in the dirt on my ass.

  “I am not left-handed.”

  I stifled the urge to roll my eyes as I scrambled to my feet. He was already coming at me with a wicked looking over the head strike. I lifted my sword, stopping the deadly downswing.

  “I know you’re not left handed,” I sent.

  “Aw, come on Tanaka,” he whined in my head, giving me puppy dog eyes.

  Our swords clashed back and forth and I watched the sharp edge of his blade as it swiped past my arm with a whoosh of air.

  “That was close,” I warned him.

  He ignored me.

  “Come on,” he begged.

  “Oh fine,” I sent, watching for any sign of weakness that I could use to my advantage. “There’s something you should know.”

  “What’s that?” he sent, grinning at me.

  And then I saw my chance.

  “I’m not left handed either,” I sent, disarming him with a twist of my wrist.

  His sword flew through the air in an arc and landed on the dirt. He frowned at me and ran for it. I followed at a more leisurely pace. The crowd was chanting for me to kill him.

  Jeez. This place and New Winnipeg were the hope for our civilization? It was kind of depressing.

  Chad had his sword back in his hand and was coming at me, a menacing look on his face. And if I didn’t know him, I would probably be scared.

  “It’s time.” I sent.

  He nodded, looking even more determined and grim. His chest was sweaty and there were streaks of dirt. He had a black eye and some bruises from his earlier fight with the guards. And I noticed that the fingers on his sword hand had bloody knuckles.

  “Chad?” I sent, feeling kind of nervous.

  “They want a show?” he sent. “Let’s give them a show.”

  And he sent me his idea of how we should end this. I gave one sharp nod and lifted my sword into a defensive position.

  He came at me hard as though he wanted to kill me and I was shocked at the fury with which he infused his blows. It turned on my self-preservation instinct and I deflected with as much force as I could muster, knowing that I mustn’t let his blade touch me.

  The audience had fallen silent and the sound of the swords clashing and clanging was the only noise in the room.

  “Now?” I sent.

  “Not yet.”

  “Now?”

  No answer. He only fought harder and I was getting a little worried. Then I noticed where he was driving me. He wanted us right in front of Bakersfield so he could see perfectly.

  “Ready?” he sent, linking minds with me so that we could move exactly together.

  “Do it.”

  And with that I let loose my warrior cry at the same time as I heard him yell and then things went into slow motion. I saw a drop of sweat drip off Chad’s cheek. I was hyper aware of my sword as I lifted it up and over my right shoulder. I could see that Chad’s movement exactly mimicked mine. Then we moved as one, my sword crossing on top and his on the bottom as we both slashed them across our bodies, each cutting through the other’s bicep.

  At exactly the same time.

  There was a stunned gasp from the crowd.

  I dropped my sword and covered the wound, which was bleeding freely with my hand. Fuck, that hurt.

  The man who had given us our instructions was acting as some sort of referee and he stared at us, his mouth open for a long moment. Then he snapped his jaw shut and frowned, jumping over the boards and climbing quickly up to Bakersfield.
When I dared to glance up at him, I saw him studying us. He turned his attention to the referee as he spoke quickly, making a diagonal cutting gesture with his hand.

  I was breathing hard and all of a sudden the world came back. Chad was leaning against the boards, his hand bloody where he covered his own slash. He looked as though his adrenaline had just run out and I hoped that fucking Bakersfield didn’t have anything else planned for us today.

  The crowd was murmuring, not sure what to make of this turn of events. All the aches and pains of the past couple hours suddenly made themselves known and I stifled a groan forcing myself to keep standing up straight.

  Bakersfield got to his feet and it was so quiet you would think you were on a spacewalk outside a starship.

  “This is an unexpected turn of events,” he said, gazing at us with something like respect in his eyes. But it was the kind of respect you have for a worthy opponent that you still intend to beat. “It appears that we have a tie.”

  The crowd began to whisper until he frowned and everyone fell silent again.

  “This has never happened before, but we seem to have two winners.”

  The crowd erupted into cheering.

  “The point goes to you two,” he said, and I didn’t miss the underlying message. Grace was safe for now.

  “You may both have the week off,” he said. Thank goodness. No more trench digging for Chad. Maybe we would actually have a chance to do some reconnaissance and find the prisoners. “I am holding a tea in the afternoon tomorrow and you may attend.”

  I waited till Chad gave him a nod before I did too, trying to remember to behave like a submissive Survivor female, who let her man decided everything for the two of them — not that it mattered because obviously Bakersfield knew we weren’t who we said we were — still, I wasn’t going to drop my cover until it was clear that I should.

  I felt a wave of relief.

  No water chamber for either of us. Thank god.

  We had done it.

  “Please will you join me in my private dining room when you have cleaned up?” he said, with a cold smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  It wasn’t a request.

  I exchanged a glance with Chad.

  We had done it.

  But what had we done?

  HAWKINGS HAD LED us straight from the arena to a small shed, which it turned out merely covered a set of winding stairs. It was a dark evening and my sweat chilled instantly once we were outside, making me shiver. We followed him down and I was surprised when we came out in a fairly large rocky cavern. There was an odd sulphur sort of smell that I guessed was the water.

  “What’s this?” Yumi said.

  “Mineral hot springs,” Hawkings said. “They’re closed to the public for a few hours after the training demonstration and the winner always gets to come down here and relax for a while.”

  “Oh, seriously?” she said in delight. And the look of wonder on her face even brought out a genuine smile on Hawkings’ face. The first I had seen on him.

  Then his expression became grave and he stepped in closer.

  “You two are playing a dangerous game,” he said, his smile completely gone. “Be careful.”

  The two of us only stared at him until Yumi responded.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hawkings. We’re just trying to fit in here.”

  “Indeed,” he said, and his eyes told me that he guessed exactly what we were doing here. “Bakersfield may look young, but he’s the most dangerous man I have ever met. You would do well to remember that.”

  He locked eyes with me for a long moment. Then the intensity on his face was gone, replaced by a bland look — the servant mask that he usually wore. I was taken aback. Even Yumi could take some lessons from this guy on maintaining a poker face.

  “Enjoy the hot springs. You have the place to yourselves,” he said. “There are bathing suits in the changing areas. You’ll find towels and bathrobes for you when you’re done.”

  “Thank you,” Yumi said to Hawkings and I knew she was talking about the warning as well as the hot springs.

  “My pleasure, madam,” he said, then bowed and left. He closed the door with a soft click and I looked around. The room had nowhere anyone could hide and the door was shut. We could speak freely in here.

  We both changed into the swimsuits — still in the package? — and showered. Then we climbed into the hot water.

  “Oh God,” Yumi said with a groan. “This is almost better than an orgasm.”

  I eased my sore shoulders under the water and pried one eyelid open to give her a look.

  “I said almost.”

  “I’d love for you to have both right now,” I said. “But I’m worried someone will walk in on us, despite the closed door.”

  She was wearing a tiny black bikini that left almost nothing to the imagination, it being comprised of only three small triangles and some string. I had never seen her in anything so skimpy and I had to admit, I liked it.

  “No worries,” she said, leaning her head back on the rock and closing her eyes. “I’m good.”

  Maybe when we got back to our time, I would buy her some lingerie.

  I imagined her in a pink, sheer baby doll dress that barely reached her hips… and maybe a thong, so I could have access to her sweet ass. The Yumi in my imagination had her long black hair flowing down over her back and she crooked her finger at me as she eased herself down on the bed.

  The real Yumi snorted.

  “Really, Red? Pink? That’s not exactly me.”

  “Maybe that’s why I think it’s sexy,” I said, my voice coming out relaxed. “Because it’s not how you usually look.”

  “Hm,” she said, thinking about that for a long moment. Then she went on. “But all joking aside. We need to talk. I found out where the prisoners are.”

  My eyes popped open.

  “You did?”

  “His assistant is chatty,” she said and gave a shrug of her bare shoulder.

  “They keep them in the bottom of the dam. They converted the maintenance rooms into a few cells. The water chamber is down there, too. There’s just two sets of stairs — one on each side of the castle — that lead down to that level.”

  “I’m impressed, Tanaka. Chatting isn’t your usual skill set. You’re branching out.”

  She made a face at me.

  “But really, Chad. what the hell are we going to do? Knowing where they are doesn’t mean we can get them out. We’ve been here a whole day already and have no idea of the layout of the place. We haven’t found Grace. And…” She trailed off. “We’re not doing our job.”

  “You’re panicking over nothing, Yumi,” I said, trying not to let her restlessness infect me. We needed to have our heads on straight if we were going to do this right. There was no need to rush into things and possibly screw everything up. It was possible that we might only get one chance and I wouldn’t have Yumi’s eagerness messing anything up. “Infiltrating is not the same as attacking. It could take some time. You have to be patient.”

  “Patience is not my usual skill set either,” she said, with a huff of exasperation.

  I kept my eyes closed and enjoyed the feeling of the hot water relaxing all my sore muscles. When Yumi had healed me in the arena, it had been quick and had mostly just taken away my exhaustion and fatigue so that I could fight. The Circle we had made hadn’t lasted long enough for me to actually heal any injuries or the muscles I had used digging all day.

  I sighed, not wanting to think about all the problems with this mission. And what might happen at this supper with Bakersfield. I just wanted a fucking break for once.

  “Sorry, Chad, I know you’ve had a hard day.”

  She swam over to me and I lifted my arm so she could come into my embrace. She plastered her body to mine, pressing herself against me, her legs over my legs, her arms wrapped around my torso. She gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  “I love this beard so much,” she said, nuzzli
ng me.

  “It needs a trim,” I said. “Before supper even, so I don’t look like I just came out of the bush.”

  “You did just come out of the bush,” she pointed out.

  “Yes, but I don’t have to look like it.”

  “As long as you don’t shave it off,” she said, then I heard the frown in her voice. “Well, if you want to shave it off, of course, you can. But I really like it and I hope you won’t shave it for a while.”

  I smiled to myself.

  “It’s not as itchy as I thought it would be and it means I don’t have to shave all the time. So, I suppose I can keep it for a while longer,” I said, adopting a magnanimous tone of voice.

  “Oh, you’re too kind, Mr. Dvorski,” she said, finding my lips and giving me a quick kiss.

  “I thought you didn’t want an orgasm,” I said, my hand squeezing her waist.

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want one. I said that if you didn’t think we should fool around in here, then I was fine with it.”

  “Ah,” I said. “Semantics.”

  She stretched her arm a little and the wound came open, seeping blood.

  “Damn, you’re bleeding, Tanaka.”

  She looked at it and gave a little shrug.

  “You would think they wouldn’t want their warriors coming in here and getting the water all dirty.”

  “Hence the showers,” I said. “And Hawkings said they were mineral hot springs, which means they’re likely considered healing springs.”

  “Still.”

  “There’s a current,” I said, since she didn’t seem to have noticed it. “The water is moving. I would guess that in a couple hours it’ll all be fresh water in here.”

  “Oh, well, that makes sense,” she said. “And that’s probably why they close it to the public too. Until it’s clean again.”

  “We probably should get out and bind these wounds,” I said, not moving at all.

  “Yeah, Bakersfield is waiting for us,” she said, squeezing me tighter. “Why do you think he invited us? I feel like this whole place is an enormous trap that’s closing in on us.”