by Moose Tyler
Amaria nodded. “From the queen.”
Wanje smiled. “Yes.”
Amaria didn’t know how to react. Why, in Great Mother’s name, are you smiling?
“We will meet after Genesis,” said Wanje, “at first light in my chambers.”
Amaria was stunned. To be invited to a sage’s chamber was not something to be taken lightly. Sages protected their privacy so others wouldn’t taint the Great Mother’s words.
“We’ll speak more then,” said Wanje, “but now, Great Mother be with you in your match. I saw you drew Zora. Usually the seats don’t fill in for the early matches, but I think today will be an exception.” She bowed and, without another word, left through the competitors’ entrance.
Amaria tried to focus on warming up, but her mind kept drifting to Penelope. Where is she? She cursed and scanned the arena.
As Wanje had predicted, the seats filled in beyond the normal attendance for the early round matches. It seemed like the entire tribe had shown up, yet Penelope still had not arrived. It was getting close to the start of the competition. The judges had walked into the arena, and Amaria looked over to see the queen’s seats were packed. Her stomach flipped as the horns were blown.
The competitors gathered around Janus, who had been selected as the main judge for this event as well. Amaria tightened her leg guards while Janus inspected her weapons. Once checked, the blades would be wrapped in leather and dipped in clay, and each participant would strap a boar’s heart to her chest.
Hand-to-Hand was unlike any other event at the Games. Most of the others were based on skill and scoring, and although those two aspects were part of it, Hand-to-Hand was the closest to actual battle. During matches, participants received points for direct hits on an opponent’s arms, legs, and certain parts of the torso. Accuracy was rarely contested. The evidence was marked in clay. The judges were there to determine ties, to verify hits and direct kills, and to make sure competitors stayed in the circle.
Strikes not voided received points, two for the arms and thighs, three for the ankles, four for the abdomen, and five for the throat and head. The boar’s heart strapped to the chest simulated the warrior’s actual heart and, if busted, would end the match no matter what the score. If no heart had been penetrated by the end of four rounds, the points would be calculated to declare the victor, which had only happened twice in all the Genesis Games Amaria had participated in.
Hand-to-Hand matches got aggressive. Sometimes they lasted all four rounds, but other times they only went one. Usually a warrior would persevere and do what she was trained to do, kill.
Amaria tightened the boar’s heart around her shoulders. The smell of the organ tickled her nose. They had been dried since before the start of Genesis, so they weren’t that bloody, except on the inside, but they had a foul smell. The stench wasn’t overpowering, and she often forgot about it after the battle began, but it certainly didn’t smell good, though some warriors liked it. There was even a line of soap from the Scented Goddess called The Boar’s Heart, but Amaria was thankful the Sacred Peacock had not left a bar by her hearth.
She strapped Slicks to her back and fastened the shield over that, but she kept Silver Wing in hand while waiting. She was glad her blades had been dipped in brown clay. The color complimented the bronze of her shield.
Amaria and Zora would fight after Willow and Taryn, a match Willow was sure to win. Taryn was faster, but Willow was bigger. Once she connected, her blows could do some major damage. The winner would face the victor of Lyla and Ophea’s battle, which was more evenly-matched as far as strength and skill were concerned. Ophea and Lyla were scheduled to fight fourth.
Willow and Taryn were called to the ready, and the crowd quieted down. Amaria scanned the arena and saw Penelope jogging out of the tunnel. She was late, but she had made it. She picked up her pace and crossed to Amaria.
“Sorry,” she said, out of breath. She bent over. “What did I miss?”
“Not much.” Amaria let Penelope use her shoulder to lean on. “Beastly rides yesterday.”
Penelope gathered her composure. “Thanks again for giving up your spot. Now, what weapons did you bring?”
Amaria held up her blade. “Silver Wing, Slicks, and my new shield. What else do I need?”
Penelope admired the disc. “Sacred Peacock?”
Amaria nodded.
“You got a small dagger for last measures?”
“I gave Little Blade to Sakina and all the others to Wanje. She gave them to CAW.”
“Who?”
“Ursula. I’ll tell you later.”
“I brought a blade, if you want it.” Penelope handed Amaria a box. “It’s your Genesis gift.”
Amaria opened it. Inside was a dagger the size of Little Blade. The handle was carved of white stone. It was beautiful. She looked at Penelope. “Thank you. They’ve already wrapped the weapons, but I’ll definitely bring it to the final match. Will you hold it for me?”
“Sure,” Penelope said flatly. She took the box and turned to watch the battle that was underway.
“Are you okay, P? Where were you?”
“Oh, tending to mother.”
“How is she doing? Did you tell her about winning the crown in Sliver Riding?”
“No. She died.”
The crowd cheered loudly, but Amaria didn’t investigate the reason. She stared at Penelope in disbelief. “I’m so sorry,” was all she could think to say.
She turned and looked at Amaria. Tears fell from her eyes, but she smiled sweetly. Amaria returned the smile and grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Do you need anything?”
“Yeah, I need you to bust Zora’s heart in the first round so I can prepare Mother for her funeral.”
Amaria felt awkward. Here she was with a boar’s heart strapped to her body about to fight Zora in front of the entire tribe, and there Penelope was needing to prepare her mother’s body to burn. “I’ll do my best,” Amaria said weakly.
Penelope smiled. “It’s okay, Ree. She’s returned to the Great Mother and her suffering is over. I’m just going to miss her.”
Amaria could barely remember when Penelope’s mother wasn’t sick. It had been many moons, but before, when she was younger and healthy, she owned a clothing shop called Cross-Stitched that sold a variety of fashion choices from kilts to tunics. Penelope always said that she had inherited her mother’s fashion sense, and though the shop had been closed for more than five cycles, she swore that if she weren’t a warrior, she would re-open it with Ursula.
“At least she’s not suffering any longer,” said Amaria.
A horn blew, signaling the match had ended. Though Amaria hadn’t watched at all, she assumed Willow had busted Taryn’s heart. She scanned the action to see that she was right. Taryn had boar’s blood all over her neck, chest, and stomach. Willow was swinging her sword around and waving to the chanting spectators.
“It’s your turn,” Penelope said, as she dried her eyes and joined the applause. She whistled loudly and winked at Amaria. “Watch out for the sneaky arrow,” she warned as Amaria made her way to the middle of the arena.
She didn’t need a heads-up on the possibility that at some point during the match Zora would likely pull a low blow like throwing sand in Amaria’s eyes or out-right cheating, like using a weapon that hadn’t been checked by the judges. In combat, one should always expect a sneaky arrow.
Amaria stepped in the circle. Zora had been given the blue clay. It matched her chest piece, eyes, and the color painted in her hair. She wore cloth leg guards. Amaria suspected leather ones were underneath, an excellent place to hide a small blade. Either there or in the long black mane that had been pulled into a knot on top of her head and braided down her back.
Amaria spat on the ground and took her position next to Janus. Zora stood on the other side, and they locked eyes. What woul
d have normally been a smirk on Zora’s face seemed more like genuine concentration. It was clear that she was not happy with her first-round pick. Amaria felt a smirk creep to her lips, followed by the urge to say something smart or to start goading. That’s right, snake face, she thought, psyching herself up as Janus finished the brief instructions.
She concluded her speech, and Amaria and Zora shook hands and went to opposite positions in the circle. Amaria rolled Silver Wing over and over, making small circles with the blade. She gripped the leather handles of the shield tighter. It felt as light as a scroll. A horn sounded, and Zora crouched and moved left. Amaria kept a more casual position and shuffled to her left still swinging the blade in small circles. Zora would make the first move. She’s so predictable.
As soon as Amaria had the thought, Zora lunged and thrust her blade forward. Amaria batted it down with her sword, barely skipping a beat. The crowd cheered as she shuffled to the left dodging another advance, only this time Zora kept her blade lowered. The move was to close the gap, not to attack. Amaria stepped out wider and gave her opponent the space. Zora scooted closer and raised her sword, an open invitation to attack.
Amaria morphed into a more offensive fighting posture. She skipped a few steps forward but kept her blade low. She had no intention of attacking. She wanted to draw out Zora’s defense. The move worked, and Zora swung. Amaria dropped to the right and struck. Zora managed to get her shield up just as Amaria’s sword clanked against the metal, leaving a streak of brown clay. She didn’t wait for Zora to recover. Using the shield for momentum, she whirled around. Zora jerked her blade up to protect her face from the disc, and the sword flung across the circle. For a heartbeat, she was unarmed. Amaria stabbed at the heart, but Zora deflected with her shield, pulled a blade from behind her back, and was armed again. Amaria shuffled away and kicked the sword out of the circle. If Zora wanted it back, she’d have to step out to get it, which whether by accident or on purpose should cost her five points.
Zora repositioned. Now armed with a smaller blade, she would have to get close to use it properly. She danced around for several heartbeats, taking lunges to close the gap. Amaria defended the strikes. She then made a series of quick, powerful moves that pushed Amaria to the edge of the circle. She widened her stance for balance as Zora leapt, thrusting her blade out. Amaria deflected with her shield, but Zora struck again. Amaria alternated between blade and shield averting the attacks as she moved forward, closing the space in which Zora had to move.
Her strikes were less powerful now, and Amaria ducked under a swipe across her head and jabbed her blade forward, striking Zora’s arm. Janus raised her hand and displayed two fingers to the judges sitting on the edge of the circle. The crowd cheered. Zora fought back, but Amaria blocked the advances with her shield and went for another stab, this time at the leg. Zora kicked the blade before slicing Amaria across her stomach. Amaria looked down to see a mark of blue smeared on her side. Janus raised four fingers, and Amaria spat on the ground. Zora smirked. There it was, the fuel Amaria needed to finish the fight.
She shuffled away and fastened the shield to her back. She was tired of playing defense. The crowd was awed by the change of plans and started chanting her name. Now, with shield in place and Slicks and Silver Wing in her hands, Amaria was ready to bust Zora’s heart.
She closed the distance, swinging the blades in circles as she approached. Zora scooted towards the edge. Amaria lunged, but Zora used her shield to defend. Down came Amaria’s second sword. Zora swung her dagger, but Amaria whirled around, and it smacked the shield on her back. She spun back around and attacked again. Zora deflected, but her defense was weakened. She was now at the edge of the circle and risked stepping out. She shuffled left, but Amaria advanced. It was as if she could anticipate Zora’s moves. Every time she struck, Amaria would whirl around and let the shield take the blow before spinning back around and attacking.
Though Amaria had the advantage, Zora was not a weak opponent. She used her shield more aggressively and worked back to the center of the ring. Amaria circled right and struck again, leaving a streak of clay across her stomach. Janus raised four fingers. Zora retaliated, swiping Amaria’s bicep. Janus raised two fingers.
Amaria made an aggressive move and charged. When Zora tried to retaliate, Amaria blocked her arm with her forearm and punched her in the face with blunt end of her blade. Zora stumbled back and fell to the ground. Amaria charged again, but Zora quickly flung her shield. The metal disc whizzed towards Amaria’s head, smacking her in the face. She fell backwards. Zora pounced, but Amaria managed to get her legs up and kicked. Zora stumbled backwards as Amaria got to her feet, though her vision was blurred. Her nose throbbed, and it was bleeding. She hadn’t been prepared for the sneaky arrow, after all.
Amaria circled the ring, trying to gain balance. Zora slumped along, trying to find her breath. If Amaria had been a spectator, she would have thought that the match was a good fight. The fans were yelling and stamping their feet.
She figured she had one shot at busting Zora’s heart before the end of the first round. She wiped the sweat from her brow and dusted her hands. Her vision was mostly restored, and she saw that Zora had not yet gained her breath from the kick. Her heart was partially exposed. Amaria moved stealthily, though Zora was aware of the threat. Amaria secured a good position, flipped Silver Wing over in her hand, and jabbed it. Zora shuffled back and managed, though weakly, to bat down the strike, which Amaria had expected her to do. The real threat would come from Slicks in her other hand. She thrust it at Zora’s chest. It hit just shy of the heart. She used Silver Wing to block Zora’s dagger and flipped Slicks around for another stab but missed again. She cursed as she raised her leg and kicked hard. Her foot crashed into Zora’s gut, and she stumbled backwards as Amaria started to leap for what she thought would be the winning strike, but something distracted her.
A woman raced across the arena. Amaria stopped and looked at Janus. She wasn’t watching the battle; she was staring at the woman. Amaria felt Zora’s foot crash into her ribs, and she flew backwards, landing hard on the ground, the air forced from her lungs. She sat up, trying to suck it back in.
She saw Janus leaving the fighting circle with the woman who had interrupted the match closely behind. Now that Amaria got a look at her, she could see it was Sephora. The arena grew restless, and what were once cheers and fanfare were now murmurs of concern. The sound intensified. Amaria stood and walked to the edge of the circle as Naomi, one of the other judges, came over.
“What’s happening?” Zora asked her. “Why has the match ended? I was about to bust her heart.”
Amaria rolled her eyes. There was no way. Zora’s stamina was waning, and although Amaria admitted to herself that it might not have happened in the first round, she was confident she would have won the match.
“Olivia has brought news,” said Naomi. “The Games are cancelled.”
Zora ran to Lyla, but Amaria couldn’t move. She felt a knot tighten in her throat. “Just Olivia? What about the others?”
Penelope rushed over. Naomi looked at Amaria with no sign of sympathy and no hint at an answer. “Report to Queen’s Cliff.”
Naomi walked out of the fighting circle. Warriors on horses entered, as Amaria and Penelope ran towards the tunnel with Ophea and Jax filling in their flanks.
“This is not a drill,” Naomi shouted. “All citizens, report to the common area for check-in.”
Amaria entered the tunnel, her heart pounding wildly. She dug in faster, knowing Penelope and the others were right behind her. When she ran out of the competitors’ entrance, the scene before her was just like the drills she had been required to practice all her life. Warriors were maintaining order as citizens shuffled out of the arena. Instructions were being shouted through the shells, only now the tone was tense.
“All citizens report to the common area for check-in.”
Citiz
ens weren’t as casual, jovial, or even as irritated as they normally were. If this were a drill, there would be more commotion and comments, but the only noise was the shuffling of their feet and questions about the whereabouts of loved ones as they moved down the stairs and along the path to the common area.
Amaria, Penelope, Ophea, and Jax crossed over Beltline Bridge. She saw horses racing west with warriors crouched low on their backs. “This is not a drill,” the riders shouted.
Amaria sprinted harder at the command. This was not a drill, which meant the tribe was going to war.
When they arrived at Queen’s Cliff, instructions were being shouted, and no one seemed to stand still. The scene wasn’t exactly chaotic, but it certainly did have a strong sense of urgency. Ophea and Jax broke off from Amaria and Penelope to go meet with Euphora.
“Where do we check in?” Penelope asked Amaria.
Amaria scanned the entrance, looking for Wanje. “I’m not sure. Maybe inside the chamber?” She led the way, but just as they were about to walk up the stairs, she spotted her teacher and abruptly changed direction, knocking into a few warriors.
“Watch it,” one of them hissed.
“Out of the way, Suckling,” the other snapped.
“Excuse me,” Amaria said, bowing. She let the warriors pass before hurrying over to Wanje.
She did not smile when she greeted Amaria and Penelope. “Remove your weapons. Amaria, report to Janus at Mesha Cliff. Penelope, to Lethivia at the Eastern Rim.” She motioned to a girl off to the side.
Amaria gave Silver Wing, Slicks, and her shield to the girl. Penelope forfeited a blade from her back and the box with the dagger she had given Amaria for Genesis. The girl hurried off with the load.
“Do not stop anywhere,” said Wanje. “Do not speak to anyone. You will get your assignment when you arrive. Whatever you’re asked to do, remember speed is of the utmost importance. May the Great Mother protect you.”
Wanje turned and disappeared into the buzzing swirl of warriors, and Amaria and Penelope moved to the exit. On the beach, Penelope offered Amaria her arm.
