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Another chapter! Enjoy!

The words in italics are her thoughts.

– Odium –
Chapter Eight

Silently, she cursed herself for being so foolish as to be sidetracked. She had thought that there would be not be any underhand tactics involved, even though there had been this little thing about 'no rules'. But still…

Get yourself together, now's not the time to rue!

Her sword was still in her hand, and that was a good thing. Although her calf was in pain, her short sword had taken most of the brunt of the slicing, still, she tried her best to ignore the growing sticky pool of blood forming on the sole of her boot. Her neck was held captive in a pair of rusty 'scissors', a blade on each side, forming an 'x'. Somewhere near the back of her mind she wondered how he was to keep her an inch from death if he was to behead her.

But then one could take the term on the literal side.

Her sword tightened in her grasp even as she felt the pressure on her neck increase. His hands were rested on her shoulders, severely restricting arm movement. She could only move her elbows and wrists, but even that was enough.

Hadn't she been in this spot before with Hidaer?

But then, it was different, he would never kill her, instead, he would release her, with the warning that others would not be that merciful.

And now she was experiencing that firsthand.

Her sword quickly sliced through the air, whistling softly –almost unheard by the din –and finally made contact with the soft flesh of the man's belly as it sliced across. The pressure on her neck relaxed and she quickly pushed those arms away, getting out from the jaws of steel that had so recently enclosed her.

He stumbled back, howling ferociously at the scratch her sword had made. It was not that deep, and would heal in a weeks if allowed to. Though not if she could help it. With a roar, he charged towards her, and she held her up sword to parry his move. His whole strength was in that move, and even as his blades hit her sword, her calf gave way. And she was almost crouching backwards on the floor, with her other hand preventing her from completely falling on her back.

For someone who had just suffered a cut to his stomach, he had some measure of strength.

Slowly, she brought his knives away from him, steel grating upon steel as she gritted her teeth. But the effort was enough to enable her to resume a standing position. Quickly, she brought her sword away, and watched as his hand swung back to hit her again –

–and dropped uselessly onto the floor, neatly severed mid-forearm by her sword.

Arterial blood quickly spurted out from the gaping wounds, slicking the platform red and wet. He whirled about, screaming, as she watched as the onlookers quickly took several steps back to avoid getting blood on them.

Turning back towards her, he narrowed his eyes, and she finally understood that he could rather kill her along with himself than make her the winner.

Fine by her too.

She watched him charge forward –as he had a hundred times prior –in slow motion, as she sheathed her sword and picked up both his blades in one swift motion. He was so overcome with agony that he barely noticed them in her hands. So overcome with agony that it was impossible for him to scream any louder than what he was achieving currently.

But he could.

And he did, when his blades both pierced his stomach wound and his one of his lungs.

Kyelia decided to wait a moment longer than necessary before pulling the blades out, and prepared for a second shot. But she needn't have too.

He collapsed straight on the platform, slightly shaking it as he did. The tavern manager slowly strode up, trying not to get blood on his 'impeccable' suit as he did. Technically, the man was an inch from death, she had made sure of that, and the manager had signaled to the barmaid with the bell even before he had remotely reached the blood-soaked man.

The bell rung.

She had won this round.

Breathing deeply, she threw his blades aside, and stepped down from the platform. If there was a day she decided to start learning how to drink, perhaps this was it.

xxxxx

The whole company was increasing excited about her getting past the first rounds… with four more to go. Beer sloshed over the rim of mugs as they were clanked together to shouts and laughter.

"The first year we didn't crash out! We ought to celebrate!" one had shouted.

She had turned to Braegon at that, accusation in her eyes, silently asking him why he had bragged that they had 'won' last year. All she got was a shrug from him. Perhaps he had wanted to keep her spirits up, or something.

Soon after she had stepped down the platform, she had gone to get a mug of beer, and Braegon had come to bring her outside. The night was at least over for her, and perhaps for the others as well. The platform was so slicked in blood that she wondered how were they going to clear up the mess she left. Just as well, she was never the neat type anyway.

But what if the authorities came? They may find traces of blood and launch an investigation, she might be found… and everything be for naught.

Kyelia shook her head, and banished the negative thoughts to the back of her mind. No, everything would be all right. It must be.

The man had died not really long after she was proclaimed winner. Well, he had been an inch from death when he went down. What happened after the bell had rung was not included, and she was rather glad of it. His blood-soaked body had been quickly stuffed into a sack and dragged away. His blood had still managed to seep through the thick material of the sack, leaving dark splotches against the light-brownish color of the sack.

His company had glared at her while his body was being carried away, and their captain personally went to Braegon outside later with the money. The coins had tinkled within their pouch, and it was music to the rest. They had practically salivated like a pack of hungry dogs over the money… and promptly used half of the money on drinks that would give them hangovers the next morning.

Definitely a good example of money being put to very good use.

The beer was horrendously foul, and she wondered how they could stomach that stuff. The moment she had taken a sip of it, she had almost coughed her lungs out. She was sure that the men did not laugh at her only out of fear of getting their hands chopped off. Filrah, however, had been sympathetic and patted her shoulder after she had recovered from her coughing fit.

"Nice to know that someone can't drink this stuff too," he had grinned at her. She had been to busy sucking for breath to come up with a suitable retort.

Not that she had seen him since then though, she thought as she scanned around for him. Definitely not in the vicinity. Frowning, she wondered where he could have been. He seemed to like disappearing from time to time, and then reappear a few moments later looking as if nothing was up. Something was wrong, and somewhere something nagged at her about the conversation they had at her first day there.

Wasn't he about to say something when Braegon had interrupted?

Then again, it could be nothing, something trival.

Sighing, she signaled to Braegon that she was going back, and he immediately sent two of his less drunk comrade to accompany her. the next round was tomorrow night. And she had too really tend to that leg of hers soon.

Tbc…
Review! Please!

lindahoyland: thanks for reviewing! I haven't been on for a really long time due to schoolwork and stuff… and I really really really have to catch up on your story! It's getting better and better!

LoTRwriter27: I've finally updated! Wheee! Your story is interesting. Do update soon! Glad you're enjoying my story. grins

wene: not really updated soon… but soon enough I hope?

mello: wolverine! grins I like his claws. And yeah… updated. Finished reading enough jack/ralph slash I hope?