Chapter 11: Settle it in the Arena

  Beetle cleared her throat. She heard Maelys’ words just fine, but the casual look on the duchess’ face didn’t quite match the levity of the words she was spouting. Maelys smiled up at Beetle from her lounging chair and with a heavy sigh, Beetle took her bait. “Do I get a say in my own murder or?”

  “Murder?” Maelys’ voice jumped to a pitch of incredulity. “I said I would give him a chance to kill you, not murder you.”

  Beetle couldn’t help but make a face. “What the fuck is the difference?”

  “You should watch the swearing, dear, it’s unbecoming,” Maelys chastised as if she wasn’t spouting every curse word in the book just ten minutes ago. “And to be clear, I will be giving Lord Dharin a chance to kill you during a perfectly legal match in the arena. It will be yourself against his champion and we will let the sands of the arena decide who should live. It will quell the masses and whatall.” She waved a hand. “Easy as pie.”

  “I’m sure.” Beetle rolled her eyes, but she knew it was no point in arguing with the duchess at this point. “Who is this champion?”

  Duchess Maelys shrugged without an ounce of care in her face. “Ask your friend Jacob, Dharin is his father after all.”

  “And when is the fight?”

  “One week.”

  Beetle closed her eyes. “Never have I met such a timely and informative planner such as you. I can’t even remember what I did for scheduling before you graced me with your cursed presence.” Her words dripped with sarcasm only to turn grating and sharp.

  “Dear, you can’t remember anything before meeting me,” Maelys said.

  Beetle squinted at the smug noble. “Shut up.”

  “Don’t try my patience,” Maelys settled further into her seat. “Now either be gone or start serving me drinks.”

  “Fine. Do you know where Jacob is?”

  Maelys slumped and waved Beetle away. “Ask someone who cares to know, dear. Triflings aren’t worth my attention.”

  “But you just told me I should seek him out?” Beetle was gritting her teeth.

  “I also warned you that if you stay much longer, I’ll have you bringing me refreshments.”

  Beetle threw her hands into the air. “I can’t handle you.” Snagging a final smirk from Maelys, Beetle stomped out of the room and whizzed by the guards in the hall.

  “Where are you going?” Diamond’s voice hissed. Beetle looked up from her march, catching the ire in Diamond’s gaze.

  “Going to go find Jacob,” Beetle answered swiftly.

  “Nope,” Diamond corrected. “It’s training time.”

  ***

  “You know,” Diamond mused, “I never thought the infamous Rewe de la Hache would be this easy to boss around.”

  The gladiator was standing in a well spaced sparring room with Beetle. A set of wooden dummies lined the stone wall and a thin layer of sand covered the otherwise unforgiving stone floor. Despite the amenities, Beetle was directly facing Diamond, heavy wooden axe in hand, while Diamond held two whips.

  “Because I’m not Rewe,” Beetle circled her, looking for an opening. Diamond sputtered a laugh.

  “With how terrible you are at fighting, I almost believe you.” To punctuate her words, Diamond flicked her wrists. “I’m only holding whips, how hard can it be to close in.”

  Taking the bait, Beetle dashed in, but as soon as her axe was swinging, Diamond had already looped a whip around it and was forcing it the wrong way. A swift fist came up and planted Beetle right in the gut. Beetle checked her shoulder forward and untangled herself with a shove. The two reset. Without missing a beat, Diamond pushed forward, her whips lashing out.

  Ropes cracked in the air and painful slashes ripped across Beetle. Her back foot was heavy as Diamond continued her onslaught. The gladiator’s attacks were quick, Beetle only had time to catch so many on the hilt of her axe, and definitely no time to make a push of her own.

  “You know how to use that axe, right?” Diamond chuckled.

  “Yes.” Beetle was gritting her teeth now. She pushed forward, avoiding a strike from the whip. Beetle jabbed forward, punching Diamond with the head of her axe, but as she brought the weapon back around for a proper swing, Diamond slammed her foot down onto Beetles and bucked forward, slamming her forehead into the warrior’s nose. Blood popped and Beetle fell backwards.

  Sand poofed. A harsh ringing was squealing in Beetle’s head, just loud enough to gurgle Diamond’s laugh.

  “Thing is, Beetle,” Diamond started, “you live on your back foot. You’re so defensive you get caught up in your head and when you do strike, sure you know how to move, but you are so focused on what you’re doing, you don’t even take a moment to see your opponents counter attack. In short, you lack confidence.” The gladiator was standing over Beetle. “A sentence I never thought I’d be saying to Rewe.”

  Beetle sat up in the sand. “Oh fuck off, I’m confident.”

  “With your tongue maybe.”

  Beetle shot an eyebrow at that.

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  Diamond frowned. “That came out wrong, you know what I mean.”

  The warrior didn’t say anything, she just sat there. Frustration was welling up in Beetle’s chest. She knew the moves, she had the muscle memory, but she didn’t have the skill to put it all together. Was it because she wasn’t like her old self anymore? Did all of her skill fade away with her malice?

  “You throwing a mental tantrum, there?” Diamond was lording over her now.

  “Yeah right.” Beetle picked herself up from the sand and sucked in a breath. “Just strategizing is all.”

  “Oh! Strategizing,” Diamond nodded sarcastically. “Yeah well, let’s hope that’s enough to win in a week, huh?”

  Beetle shook her head and held up her weapon. Again she rushed Diamond. This time Diamond didn’t let her get close but instead leapt back and put her cracking whip between them both. A red lash struck across Beetle’s cheek, and another hit her arm. The third strike Beetle avoided and by the fourth, she had closed in. Frustration was bursting in Beetle’s heart and anger was rising in her head. She was mad, but instead of getting clumsy, her eyes narrowed.

  “Kill the bitch,” Rewe’s voice growled. Beetle narrowly dodged Diamond’s lash, eyes blank and mind racing. Her fingers danced along the haft of the axe and just as Diamond went to defend herself, Beetle swung her weapon at an odd angle, using sudden leverage changes to slam the axe under Diamond’s armpit.

  The blow forced a cough of air to burst from the gladiator and just as Diamond was going to call the match, Beetle’s elbow shot out and smashed into her throat, foot hooking behind Diamond’s and with a nasty shove, the gladiator was sent to the floor hacking.

  “Go on,” Rewe hissed. Her hands slid down the axe as it swung over shoulder. The axehead screamed through the air.

  “Beetle!”

  Beetle’s eyes widened and with a final twitch, the wooden axe crashed into the floor beside Diamond’s face. The wooden blade immediately burst into splinters.

  “The fuck… are you doing?” Diamond coughed. “You got me the first time, fuck.” She rubbed her throat. “That’s enough for today, I’m fucking done.”

  “Sorry,” Beetle managed, eyes staring at Diamond’s disgruntled face. “You said I was too backfoot,” She excused.

  “Doesn’t mean you have to give my forehead a piercing,” Diamond sat up. “I won’t fall for that shit again, so get your act together.” She mumbled under her breath. “Jerk.”

  “What a shock,” Beetle growned. “Can’t please you, can I? Am I too meek or too harsh, which one?”

  Diamond sighed and looked over at Beetle. For a while she just rubbed her throat. “Your mind’s a mess, that’s all I know. Like scrambled eggs up there.”

  Beetle’s shoulders relaxed. “Might be right on that one.”

  “Hello?” A man’s voice came from the entrance to the sparring room.

  Both Beetle and Diamond looked over and there standing in the threshold was Phin.

  “Oh hey!” Beetle was happy for the distraction.

  “I wanted to swing by and see how the training was going,” Phin offered, “Crocodile told me about the Duchess’ plans.”

  The warrior walked over, making a point to ignore Diamond’s scowl. “You’ve been talking with Crocodile?”

  Diamond hollered over the broken axe, “I’ll just clean up this mess alone then?”

  The two conversationalists looked over to the gladiator. Phin cleared his throat. “Been staying at his estate ever since the arena decided to cut ties with my contract. Actually, he asked me to see if you’d like a room to use, seeing as I doubt you want to stay here.”

  Diamond muttered to herself as she walked away from the splintered mess, presumably to let whichever poor servant stumbled upon it deal with the broken weapon. Taking that as a sign that training was over, Beetle and Phin walked out into the hallway.

  “I’ll take him up on the offer,” Beetle said. There was no way in the great void that she would spend a night under the same roof as Maelys. “How’d he know about the fight?”

  Phin shrugged. “Information burns quick in Perdi it seems.”

  “Oh right, you’re not from here,” Beetle looked over the man’s scarred face and split lip. “How’d you end up in Yenellii?”

  “I took a thrashing from some pirates and was sold off when I survived,” Phin answered with a certain ease. “That said, I knew enough about this place and its customs from hearsay, so I wasn’t quite as gobsmacked as you were.”

  “I’m not sure anyone was,” Beetle forced a small smile. The empty halls contained their chatter all the way to the front atrium where a few guards stood sentry.

  “Though I wonder,” Beetle mentioned, “if this amnesia is permanent, or fading away.” She dare not finish her thought concerning the implications of when her old personality collides with her new one.

  Phin seemed to sober at that. “I’m not sure, myself.”

  ***

  Not much was said on the subject on the rest of the way to Crocodile’s estate, but after a walk along the cobbled streets of the up-town hills and estates, the duo had made their way safely. Crocodile’s abode was big, but not quite as fanciful as the Duchess’, and sported a hole in nearly every wall or at the very least, some gash or impact. The rugs were torn and crumpled, and the only help Crocodile seemed to keep on staff was one old lady who was even wrinklier than the lizard man. When Beetle asked for her name, Crocodile assured her that she goes by “Granny” and to watch out for her sharp tongue.

  Even so, the formalities were short lived as Beetle felt the day’s weight on her shoulders and with Granny in front, was led to her new chambers. The room itself was not much beyond a bed and a dresser by a window, but what really caught Beetle’s eye was the fact that the mess of the rest of the house had even made it to this remote bedroom. The carpet was torn and one of the walls was beaten near halfway through.

  “I know there was a riot yesterday,” Beetle remarked, “But I don’t remember it being localized in Crocodile’s house.”

  “The entire man is a mob on his own,” Granny spat. “You’ll do well to be the opposite of him when it comes to manners.”

  “O-oh,” Beetle looked at the small woman, slightly perturbed that even when hunched and elderly, Beetle was the exact same height. Granny just grunted at that and with a click of the door behind her, Beetle was alone with her own bed, once again.

  This time, she was in a dump of a room when compared to the golden luxury that Gallo offered her, but this room had no bars. Beetle fell face first into the bed, letting the scratchy covers tickle her nose and itch her legs. In seconds, sleep devoured her.

  Through the blackness of sleep and in the palace of dreams, an angry voice scratched on Beetle’s ears. No, not a voice, a battle. Rewe’s eyes shot open and her dream flushed into view. The waves were pounding gray against her ship, threatening to split the vessel. Metal clanged and men shouted. The enemy ship was hooked on ropes and grapples, and blood soaked in the wash of the waves. Red lapped at Rewe’s black books.

  “Captain!” A grisly man shouted at her. Blood speckled his beard and a serrated sword the size of a leg was secure in both his anvil hands. “We got them on the ropes Captain!”

  A wicked grin spread across Rewe de la Hache’s blood smeared face and her fists tightened around Marrower’s handle. “I want them all gutted.”