Beyond the Hell Cliffs (24 page)

“Take me to the side, Helkree.  I need to meditate.”

“Raegith, let’s go upstairs and get you to your cell,” Helkree said.  “You need rest and every Rathgar in here is just waiting for his chance to publicly humiliate you.”

“
They’ll get their chance,” Raegith replied.  He looked hard into Helkree’s crimson eyes.  “They want me to quit.  They need me to; but I won’t. They’ll have to kill me.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Helkree growled.

“I know you won’t.  Now find me a place to sit down.”

Raegith calmed his mind and focused on his breathing.  He let the air take away all of his weariness and anxiety.  He pushed away his hunger and pain, stripping away everything just like Noriko had taught him; only he left one thing behind.  He let his rage remain, lonely against the clean backdrop of his mind.  He needed rage, to fuel him; he needed it in order to tear through his hesitation and fear.  It was the strongest emotion he had besides lust and it was the only thing that would keep him going until his body disintegrated and blew away.

The match that had been going on was over and a new one was beginning.  As Raegith meditated, he heard Helkree scoff at the prize.

“A chest full of dresses?
  Who the hell is going to want that?”

Raegith opened his eyes.  Something odd and powerful occurred to him.  The plan slid into place like it was there all along, waiting for one piece to bring it together.  He grabbed Helkree and used her to stand up.  She helped him along, parting through the crowd until they reached the mound.  One fighter had already taken the mound and Raegith released Helkree to limp his way up to meet him.

“No!” The Captain yelled, pointing to Raegith’s opponent.  “Back off, Lokai!  This one is a Rathgar opponent”

The Lokai fighter looked at
Raegith and then over to where three fighters were taking the mound.  He did not pause for too long.  He did not have the courage to face Gomar’s wrath and he quickly retreated back to the crowd.  Raegith turned to see the four, hulking Rathgar approaching him eagerly.  The crowd, which had doubled in size, was deafening as they cheered for Raegith’s defeat.  Helkree yelled at the guards over the matchup, but the head guard just smiled.

“This match will be a free-for-all,” Captain Gomar announced from his spot on the
platform.  “All five men want the Trophy.  I don’t care how they choose to fight for it.  Now, I don’t suppose anyone else would like to join this match?  The betting pool is open.”

“You dishonorable maggot!” Helkree yelled.

Raegith looked up at Noriko and
began the breathing exercise that would calm his nerves and allow him to “slow” everything down.  He was not as capable of the technique as Noriko was, but he had a good enough grip on it to make use of the relaxing effects.  He would fight as best as he could.  He would not give them any satisfaction without working for it.  Then another shadow came upon the mound.  Raegith turned to see a terrifying sight.

Torga was striding right for him.  Raegith and Helkree had both anticipated that at some point he would try to beat Raegith again, but not until h
e saw the boy as a threat.  Helkree had said that Torga was a chaotic force and did everything on a whim, without thought to gains or losses.  That the fighter would want to avenge Raegith’s victory so soon was unexpected, but Raegith knew he should have seen it coming.  Why wouldn’t a Rathgar want to see him defeated?

Then, just as the warrior reached him, he turned to face the three standing before Raegith. 
The Captain’s face twisted with anger.

“Torga, what is this?” Captain Gomar asked.  “Isn’t this trophy a bit beneath you?  Aren’t these fighters a bit beneath you?”

“This is a free-for-all, isn’t it?” Torga barked, raising his massive arms to the confused cries of the crowd.  “Torga’s girls need new dresses!  It’s Torga’s luck with this trophy.”

“You want dresses, you silly brute?  I’ll give you the damn things after the fight, but I have
… these men here have business with this Northerner!” Gomar yelled.

“Torga has business!” the fighter yelled to the crowd, thrusting his fists in the air.

“You’re not even making any sense, you big, dumb idiot!” Gomar screamed. “Fine, I don’t care as long as someone defeats the Northerner.”

“The biggest fight we’ve had all year and it’s over a box full of cheap dresses?” one of the guards asked the Captain.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but it certainly isn’t over the trophy,” Gomar said, looking up at the bookies in the stands.  They were all being overwhelmed by the crowd.  “I don’t care what it’s about.  The people are going nuts.  We’re making a fortune off of this fight.  Start the damn match!”

Torga tore into the three Rathgar like
a taunted bull, flattening one with a front kick and hitting Ganzorg with a shoulder block before the third one collided with him.  Torga spun with the impact, keeping his feet and grabbed his attacker by the face, smashing his elbow into it.  He was hit from the side, taking a punch to the face and the one he elbowed grabbed his legs, taking him to the ground.  All four of the Rathgar tumbled into the ground as Ganzorg slipped away.  It was a whirlwind of bashing fists and hammering knees.

Raegith readied himself for
Ganzorg’s attack, but the other Rathgar just circled him, waiting to advance.  The man was bigger and broader than Raegith and had more weight to throw.  Raegith, meanwhile, was struggling just to keep on his feet, but he raised his back heel and bent his knees, trying to relax every muscle in his body to make himself lighter on his feet.  He would only get one good burst out of his body. 

Ganzorg
waited, looking Raegith up and down as Raegith fought to turn with him as he circled.  Ganzorg began laughing and looking around at the audience.

“He’s about to fall over!”
Ganzorg bellowed.  “This isn’t even a contest!”

Ganzorg
came forward, raising his fist and swinging right for Raegith’s head with enough force to knock him completely off of the mound.  Raegith slipped outside of the punch with such a slim margin that Ganzorg’s fist whisked his hair from the side of his face.  Raegith moved past the blow and hooked his fist into the Rathgar’s gut.  Before Ganzorg could grunt, Raegith reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head backward and pounding him in the face with an overhead blow.  Ganzorg tried to swat him off, completely overwhelmed by the boy’s sudden violence.  Raegith got around behind him, gripping him by the neck and crashing knee after knee into the small of his back while pulling him backwards to keep the Rathgar off balance.

Ganzorg
yelped and panicked, swinging wildly to stay on his feet and try to get turned around.  Raegith abruptly stopped pulling him backward and instead went forward, with the direction Ganzorg was struggling.  Raegith grabbed the man’s tunic and pulled it up over his head, yanking Ganzorg forward while dropping elbows into the back of his skull.  Ganzorg stumbled forward, putting his hands down on the ground to keep from falling forward as Raegith dragged him all over the mound.  The spectators above were losing their minds.

Ganzorg
managed to push forward enough to grab Raegith around the waist and he squeezed inward, trying to drive the boy to the ground.  Raegith’s arm slipped down around his neck and locked with his other wrist.  Raegith had him in a headlock and as Ganzorg drove forward, Raegith pushed his feet into the dirt and lifted up.  Ganzorg gagged as his windpipe shut and he abandoned his efforts to tackle Raegith, fervently trying to get him off of his neck now.  Raegith kicked up into his stomach, knocking him off center and then dropped quickly to his back, driving Ganzorg’s face right into the ground with all of his weight following on top of it.

Ganzorg
was out cold.

Raegith stood up, shaking off the
weakness he portrayed since entering the yard.  He was still hurt; still exhausted and cramped and sore, but now he was warm.  He was warm and hungry for more chaos and violence.  As he looked up, the crowd did not go silent.  Many were screaming in hatred and shaking their fists in disgust, but a few of them were crying for more.  Several of the spectators were yelling his nickname and raising their arms in victory.  Gimlets bounced in their seats like sugared-up rabbits.  Emotions overcame Raegith and he roared, thrusting his fist to the air.  Then things came raining down upon them.  Old vegetables, drinks, coins… even a pair of panties floated on the winds down to the crowd of inmates who were going just as crazy.

Raegith turned and charged into the melee that was behind him. 

The three Rathgar had gotten the upper hand on Torga.  Two of them held his arms while one wrenched on his neck, but the fearsome champion still growled and shook with fury, trying to break free.  The Rathgar holding Torga’s right arm saw Raegith coming and could not decide between hanging on to the berserker and taking the attack or letting go to engage the boy.  He did not decide quickly enough and took the full force of Raegith’s kick right in the face.

Blood shot from the fighter’s nose when the heel of Raegith’s foot connected with it and the man fell backward, letting go of Torga’s arm.  Torga, feeling his arm free, swung his bone-crushing fist into the groin of the Rathgar that was trying to choke him.  The Rathgar groaned and hunched forward.  Torga pulled his head away and swung it upwards, smashing the injured attacker in the face and lifting him off his feet.  The last Rathgar did not have
the sense or reaction to let go of Torga and the champion spun around behind him, wrapping his arms around his opponent.  He lifted the Rathgar into the air, the man’s feet kicking helplessly, and then suplexed him onto his shoulders. 

It sounded like a riot was breaking out overhead and Captain Gomar gave orders to send guards into the stands to quell the mayhem.

“They’re throwing things into the yard!” one of the guards yelled over the cheering.  “Citizens are trying to enter the prison for some reason!  Women are about to trample the guards to get in here!”

“Lock this place down if you have to, but
no one interrupts this fight!” Gomar ordered.  “If we have any kind of draw or default here the bookies will tear me apart!”

Raegith kept attacking his opponent, but the Rathgar was still fairly fresh and shrugged off his blows, wrapping hi
m up.  The Rathgar grabbed Raegith’s arms and stretched them out, attempting to rip them out of his shoulder socket.  Raegith cried out and stomped down on the man’s big toe.  The fighter yelped and immediately let go, clutching his foot and his bloody digit.  Raegith clapped his hands against the man’s ears and when he lifted up to grip the sides of his head in pain, Raegith hit him in the throat.  Now the Rathgar was simply following every new part that was hit and Raegith was hitting him all over.  He grabbed the Rathgar by the head and slammed his knee into his face, followed by a kick to the gut, followed by a haymaker to the side of the head.

Raegith had the fighter on his knees, stunned.  Gripping the big henchman’s shoulder, Raegith finished him off by bringing his elbow down on the back of his skull while dropping the man’s face into his knee, creating a traumatic press on both sides of his cranium.  The Rathgar was done and Raegith unceremoniously rolled him off of his knee and down the mound.

Torga had just finished off the last of his opponents and the two of them turned to find each other.  They were both wild with bloodlust and adrenaline and both were unsure of what to do next.  Staring ahead at the indomitable behemoth in front of him, Raegith simply nodded his head.  Torga smiled and then they both collided.

The Rathgar easily plowed Raegith down, but the boy grabbed his
leg at the knee and rolled with his momentum, bringing the champion down with him.  Raegith climbed Torga’s chest and threw punches at his face, but the warrior covered up with one hand and countered with the other, knocking Raegith off.  Torga rolled to his feet in time to catch a kick to the face, but he was barely fazed.  He grabbed Raegith’s leg and swung it over his shoulder, slamming the boy into the dirt.  Raegith hit hard and coughed up blood onto the mound, his arms dropping outstretched to his sides.

Torga got up and raised his hands to the roaring crowd.  Several of them started pointing and screaming.  Torga heard the Captain groan and he turned around.  Raegith had rolled over and was pushing himself up to his feet.  Torga just looked at him for a moment, then grinned and walked up, lifting Raegith to his feet.  He slammed two punches into the boy’s midsection and then leveled him with an uppercut that brought the boy off the ground and onto his back.

Torga turned and lifted one arm to the sky, though he did not look up.  He walked to the chest and started to grab it when Captain Gomar stepped on the top of it.  Torga looked up and growled.

“You’re still not the last one standing, Torga,” the Captain said, pointing toward the mound with his quarterstaff.

Torga turned around to see Raegith braced on his hands and knees, puking up blood and bile.  Torga sighed hard and turned back to the Captain.

“Torga won.” The champion waved his outstretched arm around to the spectators.  “Everyone sees that.”

“You haven’t won until that green-haired puke is in a deep sleep!  Do you understand?  There is a lot of money on this fight and I will not leave any doubt.  Now go do the only thing you’re useful at and put him down!”