Disclaimer: I only own those characters that I conjured up.

Thanks to all who reviewed! Since I haven't updated in a while, I have posted two chapters written while on a writing spree. Enjoy!

The words in italics are her thoughts.

– Odium –
Chapter Seven

Almost immediately the audience started chanting again. The sound deafening and distracting to Kyelia's ears. Immediately, she tuned out the sound till there was but silence; the audience faded out of sight till she could only see her opponent and the platform.

Slowly, she surveyed her opponent, and sized him up, waiting for him to make the first move. From there, she would be able to find his weakness and his strengths. From there she would be able to fight as she always did.

The opponent unsheathed his twin knives –both rusty and equally bloodstained –and twirled them around, assuming that she would be scared by that display. With another blood-curdling yell, he rushed towards her, brandishing the knives so that the points were aimed towards her heart.

Clever, but how foolish.

With two steps she was out of his way, and due to his momentum, he was unable to turn around quickly enough, almost risking falling off the platform. Not that it mattered. If he fell off, he could easily get back up. He still caught himself in time though, and moved to face her, even as she unsheathed her sword from her back. And they faced each other from opposite ends of the table.

The crowd was cheering louder by the minute, Filrah thought as he looked around none-too-appreciatively. As much as he hated to see these random fights, along with the blood, he had to. The men were as perceptive as the nearest Ranger, and they were able to call his bluff anytime soon if they suspected something out of ordinary.

He watched as Kyelia's opponent made another clumsy pass, only to miss… not for the first time, and neither for the last. She was obviously playing with him like a predator and its prey, and being the big oaf he was, he never noticed it.

This round would be over in no time, he thought.

Grinning, Filrah took a sip of his drink, forgetting that it was beer. Which generally led to some measure of spluttering and coughing as he choked down the bitter taste. A few of his fellow raiders stared at him curiously, even as he tried to formulate a possible response.

"Went down… thewrongway," he finally forced out, smiling weakly.

They accepted it normally enough. And the lad breathed a sign of relief.

This incident went unnoticed by Kyelia, as did many others. Instead, her whole mind was focused on her opponent. Granted, she could have easily finish him off without even wasting a quarter of her strength. But Hidaer had told her never to underestimate her opponents; even this guy had to have some tricks up his sleeve.

But as she was about to find out, what she had thought about his capabilities were rather underestimated.

He was still facing her, dripping with sweat and panting at the exertion of trying to catch her off-guard. She, on the other hand was barely riled up, utterly relaxed, and not really in a hurry to finish him off.

Let him run a few more rounds, he will be almost dying of exhaustion by then!

Grinning inwardly, she mentally congratulated herself. The fight had been over before it even started. And her sword was not even brought properly into the fore yet! Her hand still clutched it, but the hilt was loose in her grip, and it hung down, not exactly intimidating, not really threatening either. Which was how she would like it.

In that brief pause of time that he had allowed her, she allowed herself to take in her surroundings again. Now that the fight was midway, the crowd seemed to have gotten more bloodthirsty. She heard the nonstop clinking, clanking of coins being exchanged between betters, the thumping of feet on the cheap wooden floor of the tavern, and the horrendous cacophony of voices that all boiled up to a single word:

Kill.

Whether it was directed to him or her, she knew not, nor did the crowd rather care either, all they wanted was for one of them to get horribly injured and to win their bet back.

So caught up in the myriad of voices and sounds that filled and overwhelmed her eardrums, that her eyes almost missed movement from her opponent as he slowly made his way towards her. Concentrating just in time, she managed to lift her arm just in time to block his move. As her grip on the hilt was loose, it barely held against his brute strength, although agility played a part as she quickly roll away from his rusty blades, ending up facing his back.

Filrah sat absorbed in the fight. It was just getting interesting. Little did he notice Braegon coming to stand beside him till he heard the captain mutter under his breath, "At this rate, we'll be here till morning."

Startled, the boy turned to his side and smiled weakly, shrugging his shoulders. If he knew Kyelia, she would as happily kill him as let him think he was stringing her along.

But still, the fight was longer than normal, though for a good reason. By thinking he could catch her off-guard, she had probably dealt him a vote of confidence, and therefore he was more likely to be defeated.

"Don't worry, Captain. I have a feeling it will be over in no time," he replied, turning back to the match, and pretending not to notice the curious expression on Braegon's face.

A few more dodges and passes later, she was seriously getting tired of running around the small platform. The scenery had barely changed! But as it seemed, her 'weak' blows and blocks had gave him a huge amount of confidence.

And probably boosted his ego too.

Which was fine by her, she thought, parrying another whack. She was near the edge of the platform now, that she knew without seeing, and he was coming towards her with an evil sneer on his face… which she would be happy to wipe off in the very near future by –

That thought was cut off when she felt something cut into the leather of her boot, metal struck metal as it hit the knife hidden inside. Surprised, she whipped around, the sharp something cutting through her leather as she did, and taking some skin along with it. A dirty, unshaven man stood on the floor before her, the incriminating evidence of a small pocket-knife held in his hands.

Around her, the audience erupted into a chorus of cheers and 'boos!' the sound deafening her as she strained to hear what the man was speaking.

His mouth opened and closed to form words, and the words were then replaced by a smile not unlike that on the opponent's face. She looked up for a moment, and when she looked down to find the man again, it seemed that he had disappeared.

What did he say?

Deciding that that could be left till later, she turned back to face her opponent again, trying to ignore the growing pain in her calf -thewound seemed more serious than she would have thought…

… and found a pair of blades pressed against her throat. Along with the realisation of what the man had said.

He had said, "Behind you."

Tbc…

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