Chapter 9 #2
“All hear will bear witness that I refused ye the right to fight,” Alistair called out, never taking his glaring eyes from her. “She forced this upon us. She has no right to make such a demand, and we will let her fight only so she can no’ repeat her lies about our honor and justice.”
The man raised a hand into the air as if to say, Let it begin. The crowd tittered again in anticipation of seeing Ailith get what they felt she deserved. Ailith put her back to the platform where Teagan was pleading with her in desperate whispers.
“Kenzie,” Alistair Keith called out, waving the portly man over to him.
The man Ailith now knew as Kenzie shuffled over to the grizzled man on the platform.
“Dinna kill her or damage her face,” he said loud enough for Ailith to hear.
“I'll not have a clan feud over her. If ye must cut her, stay away from her breasts or face. I'll not have her husband wanting revenge, and the MacDougals will slay every last one of us if she’s injured or killed. Teach her a lesson, put her on her arse, and make her not want to get up, and I’ll call ye the victor of the trial.”
They both glanced at Ailith, and she nodded her agreement to the rules. And while they may not realize it, she also understood the converse – if she put Kenzie on his ass, Alistair would have to call the trial in her favor.
“Aye,” Kenzie said with a full-bellied chuckle.
William and her sensei had been right; these men were dismissing her to their peril, underestimating her because she was a woman. Odd, given they had to be familiar with shieldmaidens, but then, they knew she wasn’t a Viking.
Their underestimation was good for her, but she grew angry over the ease with which they dismissed her. With luck and skill, she might be able to put the man down fast before he even knew what hit him. If she could knock him out, she’d win without bloodshed or killing.
Kenzie strode towards her as if he thought he was the mad king himself.
Ye are too full of pride, man, she thought sourly.
He wore a sword on the left side of his belt and a long knife on his right. He quickly drew his sword, faster than she thought possible for a man his size, and faster than William had been during their practice.
But not quite as fast as Master Park and his rubber training weapons.
Kenzie held his arms out high to his sides as if to say, ‘tis your move, little lass, and exposing his ample belly.
“Distance, speed, and surprise,” Ailith whispered to herself, repeating William’s words and thinking of his last lesson. Learning to throw a knife nudged higher on her to-do list.
Ailith waited for him to move. With the butt of her pole planted on the ground, she placed her feet apart for balance, and her upper body leaned not on the pole but towards it to give the illusion that she was relaxed and not yet ready.
“Every movement, every attack needs to be made violently and deliberately,” Ailith muttered under her breath. “Give no warning.”
She made the words into a mantra in her mind – words that might save Teagan from a dire fate. This wasn’t a fight where she had any backup or support. And while the man might not slay her, that didn’t mean it wouldn't happen by accident, or feigned accidental intent.
I hope William has taught me enough!
Kenzie stepped within four feet of her, arms still out wide, smiling ear to ear at the opportunity to put her in her place. A smidgen of anger crept under her skin, but she gave no warning as the butt of her pole exploded up and out in front of her, smashing Kenzie under his chin and into his nose.
Kenzie stumbled back, and the previously jeering crowd fell silent in surprise. Ailith split the man’s chin open and bloodied his nose. She drew first blood.
But she didn’t let up or give Kenzie time to recover.
She lunged and jammed her pole into his face, trying to knock him out quickly.
Kenzie hadn’t fully recovered from Ailith’s first attack and took the butt of her pole square in his doughy face, stumbling backward again.
He tripped over his own feet and landed hard on his backside.
Two small lads nearby cheered for Ailith until their mother slapped them on their heads. Ailith pursed her lips in a slight grin.
He’s on his arse. Is it over? Better not chance it.
Ailith leaped forward and brought her pole down hard like a spear at the man’s face to end this joke of a trial.
However, Kenzie managed to roll away, and Ailith instead gouged the ground where Kenzie’s face had just been. She relentlessly continued her attack, jamming the pole in the ground, over and over, as Kenzie continued to roll away.
Violently and deliberately, as she’d been taught.
Kenzie finally stopped rolling and reached up with his left hand to grab Ailith’s pole end before it struck his face again.
His right eye had swelled purple and red from her jab to his face.
Kenzie locked his one good eye on Ailith, and she knew he’d no longer be content with toying with her to knock her on her arse. She yanked back on her pole.
Kenzie managed to regain his feet and held his sword out, tip pointed at Ailith’s face.
His eyes watered, and his breathing heaved as his ample chest panted under his tunic.
His damaged face didn’t show fear but something worse – embarrassment that a woman got the best of him while he had yet to lay a finger on her.
She had seen that look before. It was a dangerous one. A vengeful one. In another life, she’d hear the words you bitch with that look.
With a huffing shout of effort and rage, Kenzie charged forward, bringing his sword down over his head like an axe. Ailith sidestepped the blade and backed away, her pole in both hands in front of herself as Kenzie’s blade dug into the dirt.
Ailith remembered William's words about backing away and shifted to circle Kenzie instead.
Kenzie gave no pause but jerked towards Ailith and thrust his sword towards her stomach.
Ailith managed to bring her pole up and knock the blade away, but Kenzie continued forward and shoulder-checked Ailith, knocking her back a few steps.
Before Ailith could recover, Kenzie swung the back of his left hand, striking her cheek hard enough to knock Ailith to the ground.
What is it with men and their back-handed strikes against women? She wondered wildly as she pushed the pulsing pain from her mind.
A weak cheer broke out from the crowd as their man gained the upper hand. Ailith rolled away and came up fast, remembering William’s warning: being on the ground meant death. Ailith popped up in a fighting stance, the sting on her left cheek throbbing as she moved.
Kenzie stepped forward again, and Ailith thrust her pole again for his face in hopes of injuring his good eye.
He saw the pole in time and swung his sword in a high arc, catching her pole and bringing it down to the ground.
Before Ailith could pull away, Kenzie stepped forward with his right foot and brought it down on the pole, snapping it in half.
With her half-pole in her hands, Ailith rushed backward, and the crowd cheered for Kenzie again.
Kenzie sneered at Ailith as he breathed hard, and blood bubbles erupted from his bloodied nose.
Her lips curled – he was quite the horrifying sight.
He breathed like a bull, snorting as he panted, complete with grunting sounds coming from his open mouth.
Mouth-breather, she thought as she shifted the broken pole in her hand like a club, not sure what to do next. Having a club in a swordfight was like taking a knife to a gunfight.
At least the pole had given her distance. Her club, however, was a good foot shorter than Kenzie’s sword. Distance just stopped being her friend.
That leaves speed and surprise.
Kenzie swung his sword, and Ailith tried to block it, but her skirts twisted around her legs, and the heavy steel blade knocked the club out of her hand, whipping through the air and away from her reach.
Feck.
The crowd didn’t cheer for Kenzie this time but was oddly silent. Ailith kept her knees bent and hands out in front of her, clueless as to what she would do when he attacked next.
She needed time to pick her weapon.
Kenzie stepped forward again, raising his sword high.
“Kenzie!” Alistair yelled. Kenzie froze, turning his head to look over at the man. “Dinna kill her! We canna start a war with the MacDougals!”
“Feck that,” Kenzie spat, returning his attention to Ailith. “She pricked me! The Morays will have us, and I dinna care who ye open ye legs for. I hope he enjoyed ye because he’ll no’ get the chance again.”
Ailith could feel the air thicken around her, the tension from the crowd dense and stifling.
She was getting tired, and there was no official to call this fight and no timer to end it.
Kenzie had gone mad and wasn’t listening to Alistair, and she knew that wasn’t going to end well.
Could she kill this man if it came to that?
He was pressing the issue. Her heart slammed in her chest.
It might come to that.
Kenzie shoved forward to finish his swing, but Ailith faked a move to the left and dove to the right, grabbing her broken pole off the ground and popping up in a fighting stance.
Fury broke from Ailith in a scream as she threw the club at Kenzie’s face and rushed him.
The sound of cheering reached her ears – the two boys rooted for Ailith again, not caring if their words earned them another wallop.
The club flew over his head, and he ducked away from it.
Kenzie managed to avoid injury from the club but not from Ailith’s foot that collided with his left knee.
Kenzie’s left leg dropped to the ground, and he used his sword like a cane to stand. In a quick move, Ailith kicked out, knocking the sword out of Kenzie’s hands and to the ground. That was when she felt her blade shift against her thigh.
My knife! The one William had recently gifted her. How had she forgotten that weapon?