Chapter 13: To the Death

  A week of training both passes by quickly and stays a little longer than welcome. Beetle found herself improving, of course, but every night, she was reminded how she wasn’t as good as she used to be. Her mercy and general decency found in her amnesia seemed to be anathema to who she used to be, and in a way, sometimes she wondered if it was holding her back. Those thoughts were the scariest, the thoughts that wondered if being Rewe was better than being Beetle. Of course to the naked eye, maybe no one could see the difference, but Beetle knew in her heart how big the gap was between her now and her then.

  These thoughts bombarded Beetle as she sat in the waiting chambers just outside of the sunny veil of the arena. A stone hallway funneled to the sands where her fight would commence, but for now, she waited while a pre-showing of first blood bouts warmed up the crowd. She was armed with a new axe that was quickly dubbed Marrower by the announcer, though Beetle hated the name. Her chest was secure behind a leather cuirass centered with a metal plate and from the waist, ribbons of leather straps fell down to iron greaves. Her fingers were cold on her weapon, she wasn’t sure if Beetle could win this fight.

  The sound of metal on metal faded from the arena and with the sudden blast of a horn, Beetle knew the announcer was getting ready to announce her fight. She stood up, hefted her axe over her shoulder, and walked down the stone passage towards the eye of light at the end.

  “Rewe de la Hache!” The announcer screamed into a cone, blasting the announcement off every corner of the arena. In return, a unified boo haunted the stands. If nothing else, Jacob’s father Lord Dharin seemed to have the crowd on his side, though Beetle was sure that wasn’t a hard thing to do knowing her past.

  “...in a fight to the death!” The announcer continued, “against Lord Mar Dharin’s very own champion from the great eastern continent of Befur! That’s right, one of the legendary descendents of the Harnian tribes in our very own arena, I speak of none other than the great Harnian, Retkragg the Chopper!”

  An explosion of cheers met the name and with a hefty shake of the ground, Beetle’s opponent burst from his own corridor. Retkragg held his hands up to the crowd, soaking in the praise. He was tall, dwarfing Beetle by twice her height and even Crocodile by a few feet. His arms were like tree trunks and his body was only covered by an armored skirt, letting his bare muscles and coarse hair soak in the heat of the sun. His physique was impressive, but what was more striking was his head and his legs. His head was that of a bovine, fit with horns decorated with barbed wire twisted around them, and his legs ended in brick-like hooves. The bovine nature of the Harnians was not a secret, but this was definitely the first time Beetle ever saw one in person.

  While Beetle stood in awe at the sight of the giant gladiator, she barely noticed when Retkragg pulled a bundle that was slung around his shoulder, a bundle of two massive scabbards both bigger than Beetle herself. From the leathery cocoons, Retkragg picked up two greatswords, one for each hand. They were big and brutal and under normal circumstances, Beetle assumed it would take three hands to hold just one.

  The doubt that was in Beetle’s chest grew and she found herself shrinking a little. Her eyes flicked up to the gilded boxes that held the most esteemed patrons of the arena. There, Maelys was smiling at her with Chiara at her side. Did she think the threefold slayer would appear? The box next to theirs held a man who smiled even wider, he looked very much like Jacob if not older and more dignified. Lord Dharin. “A mighty opponent!” The announcer cut through Beetle’s thoughts, “and a mighty bout! A bout—to the death!” A roar from the crowd and Beetle knew that the match had begun.

  “Rewe,” Retkragg rumbled. His voice was heavy and spoke of a life of battle and hardship. “Are you as formidable as the stories say?” He was shrugging his shoulders, stretching his swinging arms as he asked.

  Beetle took her stance, axe held to the side. “Probably not.” This was true, at least.

  “Are you ready to kill?” Retkragg asked next, taking his own stance.

  “I’m doing my best not to think about it,” Beetle quipped, and then with a push of her backfoot, she charged. Being the smaller one, she knew she had to get in and get in quick.

  From one foot to the next, Beetle felt her training pay off. She was nimble, and Retkragg could only shift his weight in anticipation, or so she thought. With expert deception in his footwork, Retkragg unleashed a surprise attack. His swords came crossing through the air like two iron tombstones just as Beetle got into range. The dance truly began, and despite the Harnians size and weight, he was quick.

  Beetle juked just in time to avoid the strike, but just as quickly, Retkragg was repositioning and sending two more strikes. Beetle didn’t have time to think, she leapt to the side, but the cold metal caught her and with a flash of heat, she felt a portion of her left ear explode with pain. Blood spat onto her shoulder and a piece of flesh arced through the air. If this was first blood, she already lost.

  The warrior shot into range, ducked and in a low profile. Retkragg tried to reel back to get distance again, but Beetle let Marrower swing wide to hook his leg. With a thunk, Retkragg sunk one of his blades into the ground, pinning the beard of Beetle’s axe instead. Before Beetle could react, Retkragg shifted forward and with a solid kick, sent the warrior into the sand. Beetle’s ribs ached as she slid through the rough grain.

  Metal flashed and on instinct Beetle rolled out of the way just as Retkragg’s blades slammed into the ground. Beetle found her feet but Retkragg sliced his blades free, slapping a cloud of sand at the warrior. One arm up to shield her eyes, and Beetle realized she had lost hold of Marrower when she was kicked.

  The crowd was roaring in celebration as the two gladiators circled each other. Beetle could only hold her hands out while Retkragg stomped with pride, the axe safely behind him and his twin greatswords barring the way. It was a dare, a dare to try.

  Beetle was hurt, half of her ear was missing and her chest crackled with each movement. She had no weapon, she had no hope. She chewed her cheek raw with anxiety and adrenaline. All her training, wasted, all the skill of Rewe, gone. She was going to die here, as a plaything passed between nobles and lords.

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  Her breath hitched. A toy, she is going to die a toy in a world that doesn’t deserve to exist. Rewe’s brow furrowed and hate leaked into her stomach. People were smiling, people were jeering, as two fools fought to the death. Retkragg stood, smug and proud, a puppet with a purpose. Rewe looked up at the Maelys. Chiara was gone as was Dharin, but MAelys still sat there, mouth wide with joy. Green sickness swirled in Rewe’s red hate. Yenellii was disgusting, Perdi was disgusting, everyone was disgusting.

  Sand plumed into the air as Rewe rushed forward. Retkragg laughed and swung his blades, but Rewe slide under them, only to pop up when she got past their range. With a kick, the warrior pushed past Retkragg’s legs and snatched Marrower. A greatsword came swinging in, but Rewe caught it on the hilt. The force of the blow barely moved her and with a flick, she sent the blade down the haft of her axe and into the hook of the beard. A twist and a tug, and the greatsword was trapped.

  The other blade came stabbing in, but Rewe used her leverage on the first to throw the swing off and get out of the way. Retkragg let go of his trapped blade but it was too late. Rewe ducked into his space and with a slam, she sent the head of her axe into Retkragg’s gut. The Harnian bowled forward, and as his face came into range, Rewe flipped Marrower around and sent the butt of the haft right into the gladiator’s eye. A grotesque pop precipitated a gasp of shock from the crowd.

  Rewe was grinning, the hate in her stomach hot in her limbs. A howl of pain came from Retkragg and he brought his hands up to cover his face. Rewe spun behind him and hacked Marrower right into his knee. The pained howls turned into gurgles and the Harnian fell into the sand.

  Red painted the grains and with a gruesome chop, Rewe hobbled the gladiator. The announcer was shouting and the crowd was screaming, some in delight, some in fear. Retkragg couldn’t look up at his murderer, his face shoved in the sands of death. Rewe cracked a grin, not one of joy, but one of a hate so strong, it couldn’t manifest a scowl. She brought Marrower up to her shoulders and then with a heavy overhead swing, Rewe sent the blade through the neck of Retkragg.

  A stream of red exploded from the gladiator and the referee knights were calling the match. Beetle tried to look down at her victim, but all she could do was stare through the blurred vision of Rewe. The warrior gave Retkragg one more jeer before spitting on the body. Her face was red hot, but tears were starting to well behind her visage of anger. Beetle could only fear that Rewe was back.

  ***

  It took a while, but eventually Beetle calmed down and before long, she felt her rage fade away. Although the feeling left, Rewe’s thoughts never did. They were sick, and angry, but at least Beetle’s actions were her own, for now. If Gallo was alive, Beetle figured she would have been desperate enough to ask for more haramush drug. Her memories were her own, sure, but she wasn’t convinced it was worth the pain and fear.

  Her ear pulsed. It hurt, of course, but it was wrapped now. If the mental anguish wasn’t enough, the physical harm from the bout still haunted her body, which was why Beetle snuck away from the arena and back to Maelys’ estate to find Pierre. The warrior had no issue gaining access to the manor, but as she pushed aside the heavy doors to Pierre’s clinic, her face furrowed in confusion.

  Inside, the place was cleaned out, with no sign that Pierre had been there. Beetle took a step into the room. Pierre’s medical tools and cots were gone and her iconography and sundries were missing. A footstep and Beetle spun around. Standing in the threshold was Maelys. The purple noble was sporting a wide grin.

  “Nice work out there, Rewe,” Maelys chimed.

  Disgust curdled Beetle’s stomach. “Oh yeah?” She almost didn’t care to ask, “did Dharin get the message?”

  Maelys’ smile never faltered, but something evil twinkled behind her eyes. “I’m afraid so.”

  “Afraid?”

  “He hung himself,” Maelys explained. “The poor fool.”

  “I didn’t realize he was an emotional man,” Beetle found herself saying, though the smile on Maelys’ face told her the truth. The warrior remembered the empty seats. “And before the match was even over, I presume?”

  Maelys’ eyes were threateningly serious despite her grin. “Ah, yes. He was so distraught, he couldn’t bear to see the end.” A pause. “Well, I think you deserve a reward.”

  Just the thought made Beetle gag. She shook her head. “No, no reward.” Beetle could feel Rewe’s thoughts, feel her anger. That wasn’t the life she wanted, not after being free from it for whatever little time she was. She didn’t want to hate as much as she did, and Maelys, well Maelys was hate and anger.

  “How generous of you,” Maelys cocked a brow.

  “No,” Beetle continued to shake her head. “I mean to say I’m done.”

  “Done?”

  “I don’t want to be partners anymore. I did what you wanted.” Beetle pushed past Maelys’ but the duchess grabbed her arm. Rewe’s hate flared for a moment, but Beetle responded first.

  They stared at each other, Maelys wore a scowl while Beetle’s face was blank.

  “The threefold slayer is still out there,” Maelys stated.

  “I can’t help you with that,” Beetle’s voice was monotone, a side effect of all the emotion she was holding back.

  “Rewe,” Maelys chided, “don’t be an idiot.”

  Beetle shook her arm free. “Just… fuck off.” She started down the hallway, but Maelys called after her.

  “What are you going to do instead, hm? Go back to being a filthy animal? The Sicklecoat cells would love to have a new beast!” She hollered. “What are you going to do!? You have nothing, I have everything! This was for you, not me!” When Beetle didn’t respond, a threat spilled. “I won’t protect you from the threefold! I won’t! I’ll let him gut you!”

  Beetle closed her eyes, as the blur of Rewe’s anger was starting to take over. Maelys was a woman to hate, the kind of person Rewe killed in droves a long time ago. Beetle felt her conflict with every step, why did she ever stop? No. Beetle burst out of the manor, sucking in the fresh air in an attempt to cool her wits. Maybe Crocodile could help?