Scourge Ten - Show

Scourge Ten - Show

Scourge Ten - Show

For some reason the news that the Swinging Sabers were going to be testing out a group of girls attracted a bunch more attention than I think even the guy on the boxes was expecting. My friends and I are gathered up on one side of the makeshift arena, behind a wooden barrier and with a bit of room left around us from the other onlookers. On the other side is our competition, four men, though two of them are about our own age. They look really confident.

Who goes first? I ask.

Esme shrugs. Might as well get this over with, she says.

I nod and give her a pat on the back. Do your best, but dont get hurt, I say.

Yeah, mess them up good, Felix says.

The Swinging Sabers accept only the very best! the announcer says from atop his box. He has a deep voice, one that carries well over the growing murmur in the crowd. But we dont care where youre from. Born high or low, rich or poor, even men, boys, and girls!

My brows pinch together at the laughter that generates. Theres a lot of guards nearby, they look tired, but kind of eager, and I see the flash of coins as people gauge Esme.

She stands near the middle of the arena, arms crossed and face impassive. I dont think anyone in the crowd would be able to notice the way her hair is gently poofing itself out into an even bigger poof than usual.

There are some people along the edges that dont look at her with the same kind of condescending and dumb look. Particularly a group not too far from the announcer. Men in nicer armour than most, with tabards, sashes, and feathered hats that make them stick out.

Those are the leaders of the various guilds and mercenary bands, Bianca says. Theyre the strongest people here. Or close to that, at least.

Huh, I say.New novel chapters are published on

Fighting this intrepid and very brave little girl is a fresh-faced local! the announcer says. He gestures to the side, and a boy jumps over the fence.

Hes wearing armour. A big brass breastplate, cut to look like pectoral muscles and abs, with metal greaves, and pauldrons over a chainmail shirt. Felix and I look at each other. The boys lost already.

Let us see what this young man can do against this fearsome girl!

Hes not even pretending that Esme can win, I say.

Shes a girl, Bianca says.

I glance at her. Yeah? So?

Well, ah, its not typical for women here to know how to fight. Thats a mans duty.

I blink. Thats stupid. Moms the scariest fighter, period, and shes a girl.

Bianca doesnt shrug, shes too blue-blooded for that, but the little wavy gesture she makes with her free hand means the same thing. Be that as it may, tradition tends to warp perceptions, which in turn creates a sort of imbalance in a society.

I pout. Thats stupid. How hard is it to judge people based on their merits?

Lets start this contest of wills! the announcer calls.

Im ready, her opponent says. He nods to Felix, who returns it with a grin.

The announcer takes a deep breath, then holds it as the betting shifts into a frenzy. Theres more people now, I think, attracted by the last fight maybe. I hope Felix isnt the sort to get nervous when too many people are scrutinizing her.

She turns and glances my way, and our eyes meet.

Begin! the announcer screams.

Felix shoots backwards, narrowly avoiding a swing of the mallet that would have smacked her in the head were she any slower. Sorry little miss, just figured I ought to take you out quick before you pulled some trick on me, the man says, quite politely as well.

Thats okay, Felix says. She grins, big and proud. I like playing with my food.

The man laughs as he swings his mallet again, horizontally this time, and Felix backs away just enough that it brushes by the front of her shirt.

She waits for the next swing, a return stroke, to pass by her, then she brings her arms up and weaves in close to her opponent.

The man tries to grab her with his free hand, but Felix ducks under it, then side steps into a blind spot.

She punches him.

Its not a single punch, and its not even that hard of a punch. Felix weighs practically nothing, and while shes nearly all muscle--despite her diet of as much as she can fit in her stomach without puking. Thats not what matters. Its the speed of her strikes.

They sound like heavy rain on a windowpane. Its a paf-paf-paf sound so fast its more like a rattle.

The big man moves to the side, and chuckles. His gambeson is pushed in where Felix struck him, but the material moves back into shape as he walks sideways and keeps her before him. Fast little one, arent you?

Yup, Felix says.

But can you handle this?

The man raised his foot up, and I can sense the magic welling around him. Vigilance. Hes a mage! I scream, but the warning is drowned out by the crowd.

His foot crashes down, and the arena floor buckles and breaks apart into a spiderweb of wide cracks with the fighter in its centre.

Felix seems to almost disappear for a moment before reappearing standing on one of the posts of the arena. Whoa, that was dangerous old man, she says. I could have sprained an ankle.

Oh, try to avoid that, its a pain to heal a twist, especially when youre as old a man as I am, the man says. He laughs, but his eyes never leave Felix.

Will the young miss please remain within the arena? the announcer snaps.

Thatd be stupid when the arena floors a weapon, Felix says. What about staying above the arena, is that good enough? she asks.

The announcer doesnt have time to answer when Felix rolls forward, her boot scrapping atop the pole. Then, when shes almost horizontal, she launches herself forwards across the arena, propelled by a powerful gust of wind, and infectious laughter.

***