Raegith looked her over. She had not bothered to cover herself and she looked so helpless. He reached out to touch her and she shuddered, but kept her calm. Then he reached further and pushed her discarded shirt into her hands. She looked at him suspiciously.
“I’m not doing this. You’re going to have to find some other way of repaying me for the bread. Some way that doesn’t disgust you. You see a demon inside me, but I can see something in you as well. You loathe me and I will not take any woman who loathes me. That’s not how I am. Now go.”
“Why? Why are you doing this?” the girl asked. “I have nothing else to give you. What else could I do to repay you, other than this?”
“Teach me how you managed to live with the pain of starvation for three months,” Raegith answered. “Show me what hidden power you have that lets you defy the weakness of your own body.”
“I offer my body to you and you instead want to learn from me… of The Path?” she asked. “That is very unlike… anyone. None else here are willing to do that.”
“Well, I’m a bit more open-minded than most. Maybe that’s what’s going to elevate me above all the other grunts in this place. I’m willing to do what they are not; I’m willing to learn.”
“The Path would not wish me to turn away any soul willing to learn,” the girl said. “Even an enemy. For bread, I will trade in knowledge. I will teach you of The Path and all the arts that I know.”
“I am Raegith, though most refer to me as ‘Grass-hair.’”
“Raegith, the Grass-haired Demon,” she said, smiling. “Very well, Raegith. I am Noriko of the Junrei’sha. We can start your journey to The Path by…”
“Whoa, easy, Noriko. I just got done fighting and I’m tired. We’ll start tomorrow.”
“Oh… oh, of course!” she stuttered. “I did not mean to… I will leave now. Thank you for your kindness, Raegith.”
It did not take long for retaliation to come. The first time it was in the meal line. He was taken by the arms and dragged out into the yard, where two Rathgar that claimed vengeance for Hugar proceeded to beat him unconscious. It must have taken longer than they thought, because the main attacker looked as if he were frustrated at the end. The second time it happened, a week later, Raegith smiled at him the entire time. The third time, they made the mistake of trying to beat him after the third story had been released into the yard. That time, Helkree was with him.
When the two Rathgar henchmen tried to take Raegith, Helkree turned into a hurricane of teeth and fury. She grabbed one of the Rathgar and before he knew what was going on, she had pulled him over backwards and jammed the handle of her spoon through his eye socket. Raegith turned on the other one and hit him in the throat immediately, then kicked him hard in the knee, breaking it. The prince dropped down on the wailing Rathgar and pummeled him in the face, screaming any insult that came to mind while Helkree used a stone bowl to smash the other’s face in.
Before either could take the next step in the brawl, a dozen armored Rathgar flooded the area and tackled Raegith. He did not even struggle as the guards subdued him and Helkree and dragged them off to a cell deeper inside the Pit. For a few hours they were beaten and yelled at. Then the head guard came down and addressed them.
“My name is Captain Gomar,” he grumbled. “I hope you two have had enough time to think about the chaos you’ve caused.”
“Not really, Captain,” Raegith laughed. “I’ve been way too busy getting tickled by your underlings. I haven’t been able to think about a damn thing.”
“I don’t like smart-asses,” the Captain said. “You want to cause a fuss, I’ll show you why even the mighty Torga fears me.”
It took a few days before Raegith was able to walk back to the meal line. The torture he was given by the guards was horrendous, but when he walked into the meal area on his own, everyone went silent.
“What, no lessons for me today?” Raegith finally asked.
“Are you insane?” An Urufen man hissed. “You’re barely able to carry yourself and you’re picking a fight… with the whole prison? You fight anyone here and you’ll be right back in the dungeon, getting the piss taken out of you again.”
“Does it look like the piss has been taken out of me?” Raegith replied. “The worst Rellizbix had to offer couldn’t beat the fight out of me. You don’t have anything in this whole fucking prison that could.”
“You want to get on the bad side of Captain Gomar, that’s your funeral. I’m not chancing it. Gulag is next week. We’ll be waiting to give you your next lesson there.” One of the Rathgar that had assaulted him and survived was standing up at one of the tables. “I, Ganzorg, will personally give you this lesson.”
“Yeah, be ready for a lesson yourself,” Raegith said and turned around, leaving the meal area without food.
“You’re not ready to go so long without food yet, Raegith,” Noriko said as they sat together on the floor of his cell, cross-legged and breathing deeply. “You’ve learned the theory of The Path very quickly, but you lack focus.”
“It’s hard to focus on this shit for long periods of time,” Raegith replied. “I’m young and energetic; I can’t sit still this long.”
“You said that you spent most of your life in the same spot. How is it so hard now?” Noriko took his hand and placed his palm between her breasts. “Feel my lungs. Breathe as I do.”
“You breathe too slow and soft. You spend ages breathing out and longer breathing in. My lungs burn doing that.”
“That is why you must focus,” Noriko replied. “When your heart is calm your lungs will follow. A master of breath can submerge up to his upper lip in water and breathe without making the slightest ripple.”
“I don’t understand how that shit is helpful at all,” Raegith groaned.
“Understanding comes much, much later, Raegith. For now, just trust me and quit complaining.”
“Your hair looks nicer now,” Raegith said, noticing how much healthier she looked now that she had eaten and bathed. “Everything looks nicer now.”
“Before your mercy, I was afraid to venture too far from my cell. I did not have the energy to waste travelling to the bath. I am ashamed of my prior uncleanliness, but the Path did not abandon me. It sent you to me.”
“I don’t know about that; you’re the one who came to me, throwing your skinny ass around like a…” Raegith joked.
“Focus!” she hissed.
Raegith was not completely recovered by the time of the next Gulag, but two days before it began, he found himself in the dungeon once more. The Captain had him taken from his cell and shackled to a wall below the Pit without ever explaining why. He was not beaten, but neither was he fed. For two days he stood, unable to sit down or rest against the chains that held him to the wall. During that time he pondered why he was there. It could have been any number of reasons. Maybe his last Gulag had pissed off the wrong people and the guards were just making sure they were avenged. For whatever reason, Raegith was not released until the morning of the Gulag.
The guards forcefully cleaned him up, paying no heed to his bruises and rashes and then gave him fresh clothes before pushing him out into the yard to join the others. Not a word was said to him by any of his handlers, but he saw satisfaction in the eyes of the Rathgar warriors in the Pit. Helkree came to him and helped him walk closer to the mound as Noriko looked down at him from the third story of the cells. She never ventured down to the arena. Many of the other inmates stared at him, some with anger and some with intrigue. Some even beheld what might have been pity.
“Take me to the side, Helkree. I need to meditate.”
“Raegith, let’s go upstairs and get you to your cell,” Helkree said. “You need rest and every Rathgar in here is just waiting for his chance to publicly humiliate you.”
“They’ll get their chance,” Raegith replied. He looked hard into Helkree’s crimson eyes. “They want me to quit. They need me to; but I won’t. They’ll have to kill me.”
&nb
sp; “I won’t let that happen,” Helkree growled.
“I know you won’t. Now find me a place to sit down.”
Raegith calmed his mind and focused on his breathing. He let the air take away all of his weariness and anxiety. He pushed away his hunger and pain, stripping away everything just like Noriko had taught him; only he left one thing behind. He let his rage remain, lonely against the clean backdrop of his mind. He needed rage, to fuel him; he needed it in order to tear through his hesitation and fear. It was the strongest emotion he had besides lust and it was the only thing that would keep him going until his body disintegrated and blew away.
The match that had been going on was over and a new one was beginning. As Raegith meditated, he heard Helkree scoff at the prize.
“A chest full of dresses? Who the hell is going to want that?”
Raegith opened his eyes. Something odd and powerful occurred to him. The plan slid into place like it was there all along, waiting for one piece to bring it together. He grabbed Helkree and used her to stand up. She helped him along, parting through the crowd until they reached the mound. One fighter had already taken the mound and Raegith released Helkree to limp his way up to meet him.
“No!” The Captain yelled, pointing to Raegith’s opponent. “Back off, Lokai! This one is a Rathgar opponent”
The Lokai fighter looked at Raegith and then over to where three fighters were taking the mound. He did not pause for too long. He did not have the courage to face Gomar’s wrath and he quickly retreated back to the crowd. Raegith turned to see the four, hulking Rathgar approaching him eagerly. The crowd, which had doubled in size, was deafening as they cheered for Raegith’s defeat. Helkree yelled at the guards over the matchup, but the head guard just smiled.
“This match will be a free-for-all,” Captain Gomar announced from his spot on the platform. “All five men want the Trophy. I don’t care how they choose to fight for it. Now, I don’t suppose anyone else would like to join this match? The betting pool is open.”
“You dishonorable maggot!” Helkree yelled.
Raegith looked up at Noriko and began the breathing exercise that would calm his nerves and allow him to “slow” everything down. He was not as capable of the technique as Noriko was, but he had a good enough grip on it to make use of the relaxing effects. He would fight as best as he could. He would not give them any satisfaction without working for it. Then another shadow came upon the mound. Raegith turned to see a terrifying sight.
Torga was striding right for him. Raegith and Helkree had both anticipated that at some point he would try to beat Raegith again, but not until he saw the boy as a threat. Helkree had said that Torga was a chaotic force and did everything on a whim, without thought to gains or losses. That the fighter would want to avenge Raegith’s victory so soon was unexpected, but Raegith knew he should have seen it coming. Why wouldn’t a Rathgar want to see him defeated?
Then, just as the warrior reached him, he turned to face the three standing before Raegith. The Captain’s face twisted with anger.
“Torga, what is this?” Captain Gomar asked. “Isn’t this trophy a bit beneath you? Aren’t these fighters a bit beneath you?”
“This is a free-for-all, isn’t it?” Torga barked, raising his massive arms to the confused cries of the crowd. “Torga’s girls need new dresses! It’s Torga’s luck with this trophy.”
“You want dresses, you silly brute? I’ll give you the damn things after the fight, but I have… these men here have business with this Northerner!” Gomar yelled.
“Torga has business!” the fighter yelled to the crowd, thrusting his fists in the air.
“You’re not even making any sense, you big, dumb idiot!” Gomar screamed. “Fine, I don’t care as long as someone defeats the Northerner.”
“The biggest fight we’ve had all year and it’s over a box full of cheap dresses?” one of the guards asked the Captain.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but it certainly isn’t over the trophy,” Gomar said, looking up at the bookies in the stands. They were all being overwhelmed by the crowd. “I don’t care what it’s about. The people are going nuts. We’re making a fortune off of this fight. Start the damn match!”
Torga tore into the three Rathgar like a taunted bull, flattening one with a front kick and hitting Ganzorg with a shoulder block before the third one collided with him. Torga spun with the impact, keeping his feet and grabbed his attacker by the face, smashing his elbow into it. He was hit from the side, taking a punch to the face and the one he elbowed grabbed his legs, taking him to the ground. All four of the Rathgar tumbled into the ground as Ganzorg slipped away. It was a whirlwind of bashing fists and hammering knees.
Raegith readied himself for Ganzorg’s attack, but the other Rathgar just circled him, waiting to advance. The man was bigger and broader than Raegith and had more weight to throw. Raegith, meanwhile, was struggling just to keep on his feet, but he raised his back heel and bent his knees, trying to relax every muscle in his body to make himself lighter on his feet. He would only get one good burst out of his body.
Ganzorg waited, looking Raegith up and down as Raegith fought to turn with him as he circled. Ganzorg began laughing and looking around at the audience.
“He’s about to fall over!” Ganzorg bellowed. “This isn’t even a contest!”
Ganzorg came forward, raising his fist and swinging right for Raegith’s head with enough force to knock him completely off of the mound. Raegith slipped outside of the punch with such a slim margin that Ganzorg’s fist whisked his hair from the side of his face. Raegith moved past the blow and hooked his fist into the Rathgar’s gut. Before Ganzorg could grunt, Raegith reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head backward and pounding him in the face with an overhead blow. Ganzorg tried to swat him off, completely overwhelmed by the boy’s sudden violence. Raegith got around behind him, gripping him by the neck and crashing knee after knee into the small of his back while pulling him backwards to keep the Rathgar off balance.
Ganzorg yelped and panicked, swinging wildly to stay on his feet and try to get turned around. Raegith abruptly stopped pulling him backward and instead went forward, with the direction Ganzorg was struggling. Raegith grabbed the man’s tunic and pulled it up over his head, yanking Ganzorg forward while dropping elbows into the back of his skull. Ganzorg stumbled forward, putting his hands down on the ground to keep from falling forward as Raegith dragged him all over the mound. The spectators above were losing their minds.
Ganzorg managed to push forward enough to grab Raegith around the waist and he squeezed inward, trying to drive the boy to the ground. Raegith’s arm slipped down around his neck and locked with his other wrist. Raegith had him in a headlock and as Ganzorg drove forward, Raegith pushed his feet into the dirt and lifted up. Ganzorg gagged as his windpipe shut and he abandoned his efforts to tackle Raegith, fervently trying to get him off of his neck now. Raegith kicked up into his stomach, knocking him off center and then dropped quickly to his back, driving Ganzorg’s face right into the ground with all of his weight following on top of it.
Ganzorg was out cold.
Raegith stood up, shaking off the weakness he portrayed since entering the yard. He was still hurt; still exhausted and cramped and sore, but now he was warm. He was warm and hungry for more chaos and violence. As he looked up, the crowd did not go silent. Many were screaming in hatred and shaking their fists in disgust, but a few of them were crying for more. Several of the spectators were yelling his nickname and raising their arms in victory. Gimlets bounced in their seats like sugared-up rabbits. Emotions overcame Raegith and he roared, thrusting his fist to the air. Then things came raining down upon them. Old vegetables, drinks, coins… even a pair of panties floated on the winds down to the crowd of inmates who were going just as crazy.
Raegith turned and charged into the melee that was behind him.
The three Rathgar had gotten the upper hand on Torga. Two of them he
ld his arms while one wrenched on his neck, but the fearsome champion still growled and shook with fury, trying to break free. The Rathgar holding Torga’s right arm saw Raegith coming and could not decide between hanging on to the berserker and taking the attack or letting go to engage the boy. He did not decide quickly enough and took the full force of Raegith’s kick right in the face.
Blood shot from the fighter’s nose when the heel of Raegith’s foot connected with it and the man fell backward, letting go of Torga’s arm. Torga, feeling his arm free, swung his bone-crushing fist into the groin of the Rathgar that was trying to choke him. The Rathgar groaned and hunched forward. Torga pulled his head away and swung it upwards, smashing the injured attacker in the face and lifting him off his feet. The last Rathgar did not have the sense or reaction to let go of Torga and the champion spun around behind him, wrapping his arms around his opponent. He lifted the Rathgar into the air, the man’s feet kicking helplessly, and then suplexed him onto his shoulders.
It sounded like a riot was breaking out overhead and Captain Gomar gave orders to send guards into the stands to quell the mayhem.
“They’re throwing things into the yard!” one of the guards yelled over the cheering. “Citizens are trying to enter the prison for some reason! Women are about to trample the guards to get in here!”
“Lock this place down if you have to, but no one interrupts this fight!” Gomar ordered. “If we have any kind of draw or default here the bookies will tear me apart!”
Raegith kept attacking his opponent, but the Rathgar was still fairly fresh and shrugged off his blows, wrapping him up. The Rathgar grabbed Raegith’s arms and stretched them out, attempting to rip them out of his shoulder socket. Raegith cried out and stomped down on the man’s big toe. The fighter yelped and immediately let go, clutching his foot and his bloody digit. Raegith clapped his hands against the man’s ears and when he lifted up to grip the sides of his head in pain, Raegith hit him in the throat. Now the Rathgar was simply following every new part that was hit and Raegith was hitting him all over. He grabbed the Rathgar by the head and slammed his knee into his face, followed by a kick to the gut, followed by a haymaker to the side of the head.
Beyond the Hell Cliffs Page 22
