CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE #3
As he faced off against the Bloodwolf, the crowd surrounded Ethenn.
After weeks of training, his instinct was to tap into his magic, the cool tingle of it already bristling under his skin.
But he tamped it down, knowing that he couldn’t use the magic if he wanted to make it look like he could barely win these first couple of fights.
The announcer stood on a crate by the side of the ring. He raised a hand in the air, then brought it sailing down. “Fight!”
Ethenn and the Bloodwolf circled, sidestepping as they sized one another up.
To ensure his opponent didn’t have enough time to make a judgment, Ethenn charged the Bloodwolf.
He didn’t bother with slow jabs or feints; he thrust his fist forward and connected with the man’s wrist as he brought it up to protect his face.
Pain lanced through Ethenn’s fingers at the hard hit.
The Bloodwolf’s eyes widened a fraction, evidently unaccustomed to such an aggressive fighting style.
But this was how Ethenn won. He went in fiercely and without fear.
More often than not, his tactics wound up ending the fight far faster but with far more personal liability.
The Bloodwolf was prepared now. He swung his fist, and Ethenn ducked. A swell of magic rushed through him, but he shoved it away, then landed another punch, this time to the Bloodwolf’s side.
Angered, the man attacked with renewed intensity. He feinted right, then cut in with his left. Had Ethenn been using his magic, he would have been able to stop him. Instead, he caught the blow on his chin, turning with the hit to lessen the damage.
Ethenn heard a feminine gasp come from somewhere behind him.
He didn’t have to look to know who it was.
Ilain. He ground his teeth against the distraction, but in the split-second diversion, the Bloodwolf hit him again.
His sternum erupted with pain. It ricocheted through his ribcage, causing his lungs to wheeze.
Focus.
Ethenn knocked the Bloodwolf’s arm back and followed it up with a punch.
He connected with the man’s chest, right where the scar began.
The Bloodwolf snarled, then attacked. In a flurry, he landed three more hits to Ethenn’s chest and one to his face.
If Ethenn hadn’t been defending so well, the man would have broken his nose. Still, blood trickled from his nostril.
He didn’t bother to wipe it away but decided he’d allowed enough hits to justify the fight’s end.
With a careful weight shift, Ethenn leaned back and then struck out with his foot. He connected with the Bloodwolf’s calf, sending him to a knee, and followed it up with three successive hits: one to his arm, one to his clavicle, one to his jaw.
The Bloodwolf’s spittle and blood dripped to the floor. He stared dazedly but managed to hold his arms back in front of him. Ethenn leaped to one foot and brought his other up in a sweeping kick, completely subverting the Bloodwolf’s attempt at defense and connecting with the side of his head.
The man crumpled.
“We have our winner!” the announcer yelled.
Ethenn wiped at his nose, his hand coming away bloody.
While the announcer continued to talk, Ethenn left the Bloodwolf to pick himself up, exiting the ring.
From their positions mixed in with the crowd, the troop watched him.
Ilain stood among them, wide-eyed, with her brothers at her side.
He couldn’t read the expression on her face but decided he didn’t care.
He diverted his path to where Thom and Brea stood.
“That was sloppy,” Brea commented.
“It was intentional,” Ethenn replied quietly.
“Hm. You’re more like her than I thought.”
He met her knowing gaze in surprise.
“Ilain likes people to underestimate her, too, Slayer,” she said slyly.
Ethenn huffed and pressed his fingers beneath his nose to stop the bleeding.
Two more fights passed. The Hammerfist and another man named Morgaan the Thunder won their separate bouts.
The troop, sans Rafferty, who was managing bets, gathered around Ethenn.
However, Ilain remained distant, her expression cold.
“You fight the Bludger next,” Brea coached as the first round ended. “He lacks skill, but he’s much larger than you. Taking hits from him will be more damaging than from the Bloodwolf.”
Ilain flinched, but Ethenn said, “I’ve had worse.”
“He fights dirty too,” Brea added. “I noticed he’ll try to choke his opponent if you let him get too close.”
“As I said,” Ethenn stepped forward as his name was called again, “I’ve had worse.”
Shaking out his arms, he prepared for the next fight. The Bludger stepped onto the floor to hooting cheers and chants of “Bludge him, Bludger.” The man’s burly arms and meaty fists were flexed for a fight. He eyed Ethenn disdainfully.
“Ye think ye can best me, boy?” he growled.
Ethenn didn’t reply. He darted forward, slipped under the Bludger’s grasp, and landed a hit under his sternum. It felt like hitting rock, but he heard the Bludger grunt anyway.
“Ye little scum.” He lunged forward, swiping with one hand and punching with the other.
Ethenn avoided the grab but caught the punch on the shoulder. He dodged another hit, then spun around the Bludger. He kicked the man’s ankle, causing minimal damage but agitating him greatly.
Ducking, Ethenn evaded the Bludger as he whirled around.
He blocked a hit and struck the Bludger in the jaw.
With a roar of fury, the man jabbed wildly enough to connect with Ethenn’s temple.
The crowd erupted in excitement, but Ethenn only heard Ilain’s dismayed cry as his face burned.
Heat rose along his back and collar, searing his insides.
His vision was spotty, and he’d certainly have a black eye in the morning.
Brea had been right; the Bludger hit far harder than the Bloodwolf.
But he wasn’t out of the fight yet.
Fire burning in his core, Ethenn dodged the Bludger’s next strike. He slammed his fist into the man’s inner arm as he swung again. Then he followed it up with an elbow to his jaw, the same side he’d hit before.
The Bludger roared with anger, and immediately, he went for his throat as Brea had warned.
Prepared, Ethenn pulled back, yet the Bludger caught the collar of his tunic.
Violently, it ripped open in his vise-like grasp.
Ethenn grimaced internally at the thought of those fingers around his throat.
Killing wasn’t permissible in a brawl like this, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t choke someone into unconsciousness.
Nor did it mean that deaths didn’t occur.
Backing away, Ethenn’s head was slow to recover from the Bludger’s temple blow.
He blinked away the floaters, then charged before his opponent could.
The tingle of magic cooled his core, reminding him of its presence, and this time, he reached for it.
With impossible speed, he knocked the Bludger’s fist aside and struck with his own magic-strengthened punch.
He felt the man’s nose crack as his knuckles connected, tearing the skin. Then he punched him again. And again.
The Bludger dropped to the floor, his face contorted and disfigured. With proper attention, the nose could be reset, but it would never look the same again.
An improvement, Ethenn thought coldly.
He flexed his bloodied fingers and stepped from the ring as the crowd gasped in shock.
The announcer seemed startled as well but called the victory in Ethenn’s favor.
He could feel the splatter of the Bludger’s blood on his cheek and chest. It had been a quick and brutal takedown.
Murmurs passed through the room as he walked back to his group.
He tugged free his torn shirt, discarding it on the floor.
Those last blows had been a mistake. The crowd now knew he was stronger than he appeared. And they wouldn’t bet so freely against him. Granted, Rafferty had almost certainly obtained the three crowns he needed to pay for his victory. He decided not to let it worry him.
When Brea moved to advise him again, Ilain pushed in front of her. “Are you bloody insane?” she hissed, her eyes blazing like fire.
With his magic alight inside of him, he took an instinctive step toward her. “I know what I’m doing, Ilain,” he said.
“Do you? Because it seems to me that man almost killed you.”
Ethenn’s hand shot out to grip her arm, and she flinched.
He pulled her closer. “I know what I’m doing,” he snapped.
Her eyes darted between his as he continued, “This is who I am, Ilain. This is what I’m good at.
Now, I can either get you a private room for the cost of a handful of crowns and some bruises, or I can let you sleep alone on the floor. Which would you prefer?”
Her lips parted in shock at his harsh tone.
In the background, the Hammerfist started fighting the Thunder. It was quickly clear who would win.
Ethenn leaned in closer so that only she could hear him. “Why did you send Thom earlier?” he demanded. She tried to tug free of his grasp, but he held her steady. “If you want to talk about our intimate life, Ilain, you talk to me. Not to my friends.”
“We don’t have an intimate life,” she returned. “That’s the point.”