Chapter 20 #2
They walked to the centre from opposite sides and stood six feet apart and looked at each other.
Up close, the size difference was more apparent than it had been from the box.
Olag was a big man, and he carried his size well, none of it wasted.
He had barely a mark on him after a full day's fighting.
He looked at Kalen with the professional assessment of a man who was deciding how long this was going to take.
Kalen looked back at him steadily.
He moved first.
What he did was fast and technically impressive and would have worked against almost anyone else in the competition.
He closed the distance at an angle, going to her left where the earlier cut was, clearly betting that the eye was affecting her vision on that side.
It was a smart read. He'd been watching her all day, the same way she'd been watching him.
The problem was she'd been watching him watch her.
She went toward the attack rather than away from it, which was the last thing he expected. For a second, they were chest to chest and then she was sideways. He was too committed with his charge, and he went past her.
The crowd made a sound.
He turned hard, just avoiding her fist. He attacked again, careful and slower this time. She avoided him easily, driving a fist into his side. They circled for a few seconds, feeling for the opening, and the arena went so quiet that Verna heard her own heartbeat.
Olag feinted left and went right and this time he landed something, a solid hit to Kalen's shoulder that rocked her back a step.
The crowd responded and he pressed the advantage, coming in hard and fast, and for ten very unpleasant seconds Verna watched Kalen absorb punishment while working her way back to a position where she could do something about it.
Then she did something about it.
She stopped retreating and drove forward into his next strike rather than away from it, taking the hit on her forearm to get inside his reach, and from that position she hit him three times in rapid succession with the short compact strikes she'd used all day, only harder.
On the third one, he stumbled a fraction.
It was all she needed. She swept his leg hard and he went down.
The arena erupted.
He got up on four and came back at her. They traded for another long exchange of blows that added more marks to both of them before she got under his guard a second time. When Kalen drove him back against the wall of the arena, he had nowhere to go and took a blow that sat him hard on the sand.
Olag made it up just in time.
He came back again. Verna had to admire him for that. He was brave, and he made her work for the last two minutes of the fight. She took a cut on her cheekbone and a bruising hit to her ribs. She rallied and hit him flush on the cheek with her fist.
He went down for the third time and this time the count reached ten.
The noise that came out of the arena was unlike anything Verna had heard. Not just cheering but a cumulative roar that shook the foundations of the amphitheatre.
Kalen stood in the centre of the sand, her face was a mess, two cuts bleeding, and the bruise on her jaw deepening to purple.
She was breathing hard and favouring her left side where the ribs had taken damage.
She was the only person in the arena who didn't appear to notice the noise that was being made on her behalf.
She turned slowly and looked up at the boxes. Her gaze landed on the the Eclipsian blue and silver and found Verna.
Verna stood up and pressed her hand flat to her chest without thinking about it.
Kalen held her gaze for a moment, then turned to the imperial box. She looked at Borgine, sitting forward in his chair staring down at her, and then at Bain who looked furious.
She bowed, then she turned her back on both of them and walked off the sand.
The scoreboard went up.
Kalen first, Olag second, Pedro third, and Velmart boy fourth. The Carlton’s champion came a respectable fifth.
Two days down.
Verna picked up her wine with a hand that was not entirely steady and drank. She felt something complicated and more than a little terrifying settle into her chest. What she was feeling for Kalen went far beyond anything she had ever felt for anyone.
"Your slave is incredible," Marie said. "I’ve never seen anyone fight like that."
Verna blinked at her. She had been so absorbed in the fight that she’d forgotten about the other people in the box. She turned to look her. "She is special. But she isn’t my slave any more, Marie. I’ve freed her."
"You freed her already?" Thom said sharply beside her. "Why, Verna? I heard you paid a thousand Baras for her."
Verna felt a stab of anger. This whole corrupt empire was built on slavery, on the misfortunes of the powerless.
They were the harvest of the wars no one wanted.
Wars that were fought to feed the ego of a corrupt emperor.
"That’s my prerogative, Thom. She fights for me now because she is loyal to my house and not because she is forced to. "
Marie looked at her with a newfound respect. "You were always a woman with strong convictions, Verna. Good for you." She lowered her voice. "But be careful, my friend. Not everyone shares your views."
"I know." She looked across at the royal box where the emperor and his followers were leaving. "Have you heard what’s happening tomorrow?"
"I’ve no idea," replied Marie. "But I hope it’s an easier day."
"Me too," said Verna, but she had her doubts. Borgine would have something up his sleeve.