by S E Zbasnik
“For our first challenge, Squire Frederick — known as Larissa Giles, shall square off against Squire Gavin…”
In an instant, all of the polite tappings of fingers erupted into massive stomps of the feet. Fists pumped the air as if working a great well, hollers and hoots shattering the facade of calm. Hayley flinched deeper into her shoulders, terrified that they were about to start hurling their trash at her. But the faces weren’t snarling, weren’t drawing their thumbs to their throats in a threat. No, they were smiling, they were cheering for their favorite knight of them all. Did they want her to win too?
Larissa frowned deeper as she seemed to realize the same. In a huff, she crossed her arms over her chest and bounced on her feet. With a cruel laugh, Hayley lifted her hand up into the air. That got a handful to clap harder, but more than that was the chant of “sword, sword, sword” bounding around the arena.
With a shrug, Hayley locked her fingers tight to the grip of her sword and in one fell swing, ripped it free of its scabbard until the tip glinted in the summer sun. The dam burst, people launching themselves to their feet to chant and cheer as if this was the most amazing thing they’d ever seen. Hayley spun in place, letting all get a gander at her rather drab and certainly dull sword. That drove them even wilder, people rushing to the railing to try and reach down towards the arena as if they had to touch the dirt.
In her spinning, Hayley’s eyes drifted up to the curtained boxes. Sigils hung from the front and back of every chair, telling the world how important the ass squatting in it was. They were all sitting high, pinched lips and narrowed eyes gazing down at the squire riling the crowd. Act the part, remember. Be humble or whatever.
With her self chastisement in place, Hayley lowered her sword to the ground. The Master of Tourney sighed in a breath. “If you are quite finished rousing the drunkards…”
As Larissa and Hayley both dashed into the ring, the Tourney Master explained the rules. Being the final fight, things were different. It wasn’t a to-the-end sort of deal, which may be Hayley’s only hope in this. She picked at the white smock glowing like a beacon under the summer sun. It looked even more striking upon Larissa, amplifying her red braid as if it were made of fire. Why weren’t people throwing themselves into a tizzy over her too?
Larissa adjusted the strap of her arm bracer, using the wall to pin it in place. Sensing Hayley’s stare, the girl’s venomous eyes cut up to the crowd still chanting for Gavin or his lowly squire, before rolling high. “It doesn’t matter how you play to the groundlings, you know. They won’t save you.”
“Maybe I won’t need saving. Maybe it’s you who’ll need the saving,” Hayley snarled, bounding out of her corner in the circle. She kept her sword pointed down, but her other fist was bunched and looking to make an impact.
“Truly? Has Abed’s pointless sacrifice inflamed your ego so that even a bloodletting won’t cool it?” Larissa sneered. Rather than raise her sword to try and stab Hayley with blades instead of words, the girl only folded her arms and huffed as if this was a waste of her time.
“Shut your mouth.” Hayley had had it. It wasn’t about Abed, it hadn’t been for Abed. It was because of Marco, so people’d talk about him, so he wouldn’t just fade from everyone else’s memory.
“Why? You know full well as I do how everyone views it. He could have reached this point. Given how the slots fell, he should have. But no, once again luck lands upon your brow as if this is some destiny of yours in a miracle play.”
“It had nothing to do with me,” Hayley growled. Her fist raised up even higher, hungering to plow apart Larissa’s pert nose. She’d never broken one before, but Hayley caught sight of a few spurting blood in the middle of fights. It’d be justice if Larissa was her first.
“Right, it was all done for that…that galumph who mooned over you. That was the reason, instead of your knight…”
Hayley lashed forward, her fist nearly colliding with Larissa’s cheek. The heat of her nose skirted over Hayley’s knuckles, but the attack went sailing by as Larissa just dodged. Still, it was worth it to watch the girl’s green eyes widen in shock.
“What are you doing?!”
“Fighting!” Hayley shouted back, about to return with a pommel to Larissa’s teeth when a stick coated in bells smacked into the top of her head.
“Cease this at once!” The Master of Tourney flapped her bells more, Hayley having to throw her hands over her head to avoid them. “There shall be no fighting in the arena!”
“Uh,” Hayley glanced over at Larissa, her fellow squire suited up in armor for just that.
“You know what I mean,” the woman growled, then rolled her eyes as she stomped away. “And now I’ve clean lost my place. Just…” Whipping her hand through the air, she commanded, “Dip your weapons and let us begin this.”
Hayley turned towards her side of the ring. Outside the wall was a barrel, its contents black as watery pitch when viewed from above. But as she dipped her sword into it, a blue sheen rose upon her blade. The dye clung to the sword’s edge, prepared to act as judge for the oncoming fight. Hayley bounced her elbow a bit, making certain the dye didn’t throw off the balance when she watched Larissa heft up something from her side of the ring.
With an easy twist, Larissa leaned outside the wall and plunged her weapon into her barrel as well. Rising up, Hayley’s blood ran cold as red dye dripped down the neck-snapping end of a staff. No. It was the same damn one from the first arena when Larissa chased a confused and hopeless Hayley around in circles.
Crimson water pooled on Larissa’s glove, squelching like blood as she squeezed her fist tighter around the wood.
Breathe. Don’t stop breathing, Hayley.
“Cross your weapons!” the Tourney Master ordered.
The venomous eyes barely deigned more than a glance at Hayley before Larissa extended her staff high. She waited for Hayley to added her sword so the battle could start, but an unquenchable knot locked Hayley’s arm in place. Not again. She couldn’t do this again, in front of everyone in the entire kingdom. They’d chase her out of the arena, lob rocks at her until she had to hide away in the swamps like an old hag.
Forget what you were, remember what you are.
Breathe.
Locking her eyes with Larissa’s, Hayley raised her sword and let the tip bounce just against the end of her staff. Blue merged with red, drops of purple dribbling to the ground as the Tourney Master eyed up both girls, waved her staff of bells, and yanked it clean off.
“Fight!”
Hayley pulled back defensively in an instant, barely having enough time to fend off the first two swipes from Larissa. “Gah,” she grunted, splatters of red dye erupting off the staff. Some struck her tunic, bleeding over the white landscape while Larissa — pretty Larissa — remained pristine.
Sensing her easy victory, Larissa redoubled her attacks. One swipe for the side, but Hayley was there. Another towards Hayley’s thigh, Larissa aiming for the undamaged left in the hopes of Hayley ripping open the wound when she dodged. Rather than shift away, Hayley took a brush of the staff to her shoulder and stabbed forward. It was little more than a feint, but it kept her on her feet and Larissa actually scattered back.
“Not so easy this time,” Hayley taunted, her sword waving around the air.
“So you have the skill of a kitten instead of a mouse, congratulations,” Larissa snarled. Her shoulders dropped down and, instinctively, Hayley pulled her sword back to defense mode. If she just kept on it, she’d make it through. Wear Larissa down until…
Hayley’s eyes drifted a moment to the spray of red across her chest, dripping down her shoulders and her thigh. It wasn’t full-on hits, but they were enough to count. She couldn’t act purely in defense. She had to attack if she had any hope of winning.
Running on the balls of her feet, Larissa launched herself into the air. Her arms drew her staff back, aiming it high. She wanted to smash Hayley in the jaw, finish what they both started nearly a year ago. Not this time.
>
The blood stilled in Hayley’s veins, her body freezing as the motion of Larissa’s staff coming for her slowed to a crawl. All around them, people smashed their hands together, roaring for blood, but Hayley kept her focus on the girl coming at her skull.
Smirking higher, Larissa’s arm began the attack, the wood careening directly for Hayley’s right ear. Which was when she spun in place. With her back to the attack, Hayley lashed her free hand onto Larissa’s staff and stopped it.
“Wha…?” Larissa stuttered just as Hayley let go and lashed her sword in a circle with her body.
Blue dye flew in droplets from the edge of her blunt blade, which she was driving right for Larissa’s side. It was a masterful move, but Larissa jerked her entire body backwards. Limply, Hayley’s sword skimmed just a hair away from striking deep into the meat. It spun Hayley back away, her arm screaming at her for failing. She’d been so close!
“Nice try, Hayseed,” Larissa taunted, her breath rattling in her nose. She dashed backwards, doing her best to collect herself. Hayley whipped her head over, trying to prepare for the next attack, when she paused and smiled.
“What?”
“Got you,” Hayley smirked, the tip of her sword pointing to a great blue streak drawn clean over Larissa’s chest.
“This means nothing!” Larissa shrieked as if she didn’t expect Hayley to get a single tap in. “I will down you with a finishing blow!”
“Then do it already. I’m getting kinda bored here,” Hayley kept taunting her. She danced back and forth on her feet, both hands wrapped around the grip of her sword. Larissa fumed, the girl snorting so hard snot shot out of her nose and landed on the ground.
You think I don’t belong here. You think you’re better than me.
You’re wrong.
Screaming as if her hair was on fire, Larissa lanced forward. The hits were three times as fast now, Hayley barely having time to switch her sword from one attack to the next. A few bounded into her shoulder, one off her palm as she tried to grab the staff. As the last whipped through the air, Hayley didn’t have a chance to block, which was when Larissa bashed right into Hayley’s right thigh.
Agony erupted up Hayley’s entire side. When the pain struck her knee, she collapsed to the ground. Shit! Her eyes darted to the wound, noticing a much more vibrant crimson than the dye welling up through her trousers. It was torn open. Damn her!
Hayley lifted her head, eyes meeting with the oncoming end of a staff. Rage drove her hands, bouncing the finishing blow away, but she couldn’t get her feet under her. Every time Hayley tried to stand, Larissa would knock it away. Every tip to the side, Larissa would shatter the air where Hayley just was. If she didn’t get off the ground, she was going to lose, but it was impossible! There was no way up.
Knowing she’d won, Larissa slowed her attack. “You gave a nice try, Hayseed. But it’s over…” Twisting her staff in her hands as if it were a baton, Larissa whipped it through the air for Hayley’s chest.
She couldn’t reach Larissa with her sword before she was hit. She couldn’t block it. What could she do?! Hayley gritted her teeth, waiting for the blow to shatter through her sternum when a jangle of bells danced to her rescue.
“You must re-dip!” the Master of the Tourney ordered.
Larissa’s killer blow hung in the air a scant few inches from impaling her target. She whipped her head over and snarled, “Now?!”
“Yes, and if you refuse, you forfeit,” the Tourney Master said.
Cursing under her breath, Larissa yanked her staff away from the attack. Then a strange thing happened. Instead of stomping off to her barrel, Larissa offered a hand to Hayley. She stared at it first in confusion, then certainty it was a trap. But if Larissa tried anything she’d lose. That was the rule.
With a hearty tug back, Hayley used the offered tether to rise to her feet. She gritted her teeth as her right foot struck the ground, pain yelping up her leg. But she couldn’t afford to show it, to let Larissa know that with just one more quick knock Hayley’d go down forever and there’d be no unexpected save. While Larissa scampered back to plunge her staff deep into the barrel, Hayley took her time.
She dug her fingers in tight to the wall, watching the blade swirl through the briny depths. One last chance. That was it. If she took any longer she was liable to fall to her knees from pain. Hayley bunched a hand around the open wound, hoping her leggings might sucker it closed as her weary head darted towards the shadows across the arena.
Somewhere inside was her knight, no doubt his piercing eyes counting up the numbers and coming to accept the truth. Hayley couldn’t do it. She was a fool to think for even a second she might…
A clank drew her attention to the pair of wooden boards propped up beside the ring. On one side in blue was Hayley’s score, on the other Larissa’s in red. Two men were arguing over the numbers, clanging wooden boards onto pegs until they both staggered back to reveal Hayley was only three points under Larissa.
“For the love of…” Larissa growled, realizing that Hayley’s one attack was worth just as much as almost all her minor ones. If she got in one more good one then Hayley could win it after all.
A bounce resumed in her step, Hayley yanking her sword free of the dye. Blue drops scattered to the ground marking her steps as she turned to face her opponent. Larissa smirked back, that braining staff switching from one hand to the next.
Okay, Hayley. You have a very dull sword which is easily half as short as her stick. You’re clearly bleeding from your thigh, which she can take advantage of. And she’s mad as a wet hen in a hat. Use that shit.
The bells bounded through the air telling them to start, but both girls remained motionless. Only their eyes cut across the dirt, trailing each minor muscle shift. A breeze burst from behind Larissa, yanking the sweat off Hayley’s forehead and nearly tugging Larissa’s braid forward. It was enough to cause Larissa to take a single step which set off the events in one fell swoop.
Hayley shifted her sword high, exposing her bloody right thigh. It was practically an invitation for the salivating squire to whack it again. But Larissa wasn’t stupid, as much as Hayley wished it to be so. Her first attack came from the left. Hayley tried to bash the staff down with her sword, only for Larissa to yank it up high. The end came dancing for Hayley’s chin, and she snapped her head back just before she was beaned clean out.
A snort at that move was all Larissa gave away, red dye splattering in the attack’s wake, as the girl arched her arms and began to drive everything for the thigh. It was wounded. It’d hurt Hayley to shift it, to try and pivot the knee down to the ground. Anyone who’d taken a blade there would know it.
Which was exactly what Hayley did. Screaming as the leggings scoured apart her oozing flesh, Hayley planted her knee deep into the dirt. It removed Larissa’s target in an instant, sending her staff sailing on by and revealing an unguarded flank Hayley was happy to take advantage of. Her sword nearly sparked at how fast she rammed it for Larissa’s ribs.
Get that hit in, send her tumbling to the side. Win this thing once and for all.
It was a good plan. A sneaky one that should work. Hayley could practically taste the winner’s wine on her lips when a red-soaked fist smashed into her shoulder.
“Gah!” Hayley shrieked, tipping to the side to avoid another blow. Her attack scattered on past, only leaving a few blue dots on Larissa’s side and thighs. It was nothing. It was worthless.
“Very funny,” Larissa scoffed, her voice ragged as she struggled to swing her staff around. Another splat broke against Hayley’s shoulder. What the shit was it with the viper hitting her there? Did she just hate shoulders?
Stuck on the ground, reaching with the length of only her sword as a defense — there was no hope of Hayley striking Larissa. She could repel the attacks, but the staff gave Larissa distance. What could she do? As long as the sword was in her hands, she was…
Oh god.
Oh yes.
Hayley lifted bot
h her hands, the sword drawn straight up over her head. Her eyes cut right over the edge of the blade to watch as Larissa drew her staff clear over her head and aimed it at Hayley’s. It cracked through the air, trying to badger away the blade to get at Hayley’s skull. She could try to toss the attack aside, which would be when Larissa’d just smack her shoulder again.
The oak stick blurred through the air, Hayley taking a deep breath. Her fingers opened, the sword falling to the dye soaked ground. Larissa caught the streak of the dropped blade, but she couldn’t stop her attack. It was already over the apex, all her muscle put into the staff that Hayley just clamped both hands around.
Hayley yanked harder than anything in her life. The staff slid out of Larissa’s fingers as if they were coated in butter. “Oh shit,” Larissa cursed, stumbling backwards when she realized she just got disarmed.
Jabbing the handle forward, Hayley bounced twice into Larissa’s guts. She couldn’t get much force, but the jabs were enough to keep Larissa back as Hayley struggled to her feet. Pain shredded her leg, screaming at her to sit her ass down, but she was going to finish this.
With one foot stomping down onto her sword, Hayley spun the staff around. Larissa was caught, her eyes clearly eyeing up both sides of the ring. Perhaps she was thinking of breaking into a run as well. It was doubtful Hayley could pursue her the same way Larissa had.
No. The girl snarled and raised both fists. She wouldn’t give up for anything. Laughing, Hayley answered her charge. The first fist actually bounced the staff blow away, but the second swung high. Her own staff jammed right into Larissa’s gut, causing the girl to crumple to the ground. With a raise of her arms, Hayley bounced the staff against Larissa’s back, sending the girl splaying into the dirt.
Taking a single step forward, blood dripping down her knee, Hayley drew the end of the staff right beside Larissa’s head. The girl scampered to her knees, but she was trapped…as trapped as Hayley’d been. Not just when she fell to her wound, but at Camden watching Marco’s end. At the estate staring at her ill-gotten gains laid out on the table. And standing in the arena with fresh rope burn on her wrists, knowing if she didn’t succeed she’d die the next day.
