Beyond the Hell Cliffs (22 page)

She had gone two decades knowing in her soul that she was a warrior, though she had no reason to be.  It did not make sense in her world for her to feel that way, but the knowledge was undeniable to her.  There was a reason she was so strong and resilient and violent; a reason why she was so hard when her world only had use for women who were soft.  That reason was in her arms.  She was not meant to be a maiden or a mistress and certainly not a wife.  She was there, in that world to keep him safe from any enemy and she would never leave him.

She let him sleep beside her for a while and then slid out from behind him and made her exit.  Before she left his cell, she took another long look at him as he slept.

I can’t cook, or keep anything clean and I would just as soon throw sm
all children to a Night Beast then raise one.  I would make a horrible mate,
she thought. 
But there is something I am good at… better than anyone else in here.

She turned and walked down the corridor.  It was dark out and the only light was from the glowing emberstones socketed along the walls, casting the entire Pit in a rusty orange.  Below and above, women went about their chores.  Helkree managed to catch a
glimpse of an unfortunate Lokai girl, barely a woman, get yanked off her feet and into a cell by thick, green hands.  Her scream was cut short by an impact.

Helkree did not stop.  That was the
way things were in the Greimere, but it was twice as bad in the main prison of the Empire.  If the girl were stronger or had a scarier master, she wouldn’t be swimming in darkness while her limp body was violated.  Helkree had other matters to attend to.

She was acquainted with Hugar.  They had done business together before, when they were both free and he even helped hide her from bounty hunters once.  It wasn’t without a price, though. 
She hoped that she could appeal to his tastes once more.

As she came upon the cell she guessed was his, she grabbed the collar of her shirt and ripped it halfway down the center.  Then she took a breath, steadying herself for what she knew she had to do, for Raegith’s sake. 
Whatever it takes to keep him safe.

“Helkree of Edge.
  How did you manage to wind up in here?” Hugar laughed, waving her past his body guards. 

“Everyone gets caught, eventually.  Even Hugar, it seems.”

Hugar looked her over, pausing at her chest.  “You made the right choice coming to me so soon, Helkree.  You may be a hellion outside the walls, but in here, without protection… you’re just a bitch.”

Helkree could see the eagerness in his eyes and in his fingers as she strolled up to him.  He was almost reaching out for her when she got to his side of the stone desk he sat behind.  She ran her fingers through his grey hair and pushed her bosom up close to his face
and he reached around to grip her ass.

“You’ve pledged to destroy that foreign kid from the north?” she asked.

“I’m going to tear his ass apart… once I get done with yours.”

“No
… you’re not,” she whispered.

Sliding back a step, Helkree tightened her grip on his mane of hair and slammed his face into the corner of the desk.  Hugar’s body twitched in response, but she kept at it, breaking the edge off of the stone with the third impact.

Blood and teeth and brains covered the tabletop and one of his blue eyes rocked back and forth on the floor.  Helkree shoved the corpse of her former partner off of the chair and snapped one of the legs off as the three guards rushed into the cell at her.

With bared teeth and the jagged chair leg in her hand, she turned to meet the three, burly, vengeful Rathgar.

“I don’t know why, Raegith,” Helkree said, annoyed with his questions.  “It’s always been that way.  I pick my battles and most of the time I’m simply defending myself, but I cannot help what I am.  I know I’m a warrior and I always have been.  I’m unsuited for any other purpose.”

Raegith dabbed the cloth into the bowl of water and continued to clean her wounds.  Helkree hated being confined to the stone bed in Raegith’s cell, but she could not get around on her own, yet and he was the only one who would guard her and take care of her while she healed. 

“My friend, the red-haired girl, was the same way.  She dressed up like a man for years in order to train as a soldier.”

“Well that’s twisted!” Helkree spat.  “I’m a woman.  I don’t want to be a man and I certainly am not about to dress up like one in order to be a warrior.  That’s just weird.”

“What is weird is that they didn’t kill you,” Raegith said.  “Is murder not a capital offense here?  You can kill four men and all you get is a week in the dungeon and a public caning?”

“Hey, fuck you.  That shit hurt, alright.  And being a female in a dungeon ran by dipshit Rathgar is no picnic.  A lesser creature would have been broken by it.  For me, it’s slightly inconvenient.”

“I’ve been whipped before.  I was tortured by my own people.  They did worse to Zakk.  I guess there isn’t much difference between those with power in the north and those with power in the south.”

“Probably not.”

“I appreciate what you did for me, Helkree,” Raegith said.  He set his jaw and stopped washing her.  “But you won’t do it again.”

Helkree propped herself up on her elbows, wincing at the pain in her ribs.  “The fuck I won’t!  I dare someone else to come dump chowder on you…”

“You won’t do this again because you won’t have to,” Raegith interrupted.  “If power lets men do what they wish in here, then I’ll get power.  I’ll be more powerful than anyone else in here and bend them all to my will.  Then… we’re all going to be fucking peaceful under threat of death.”

“You’re going to need to be much stronger than you are right now… and quickly.”

Chapter 19

Inside the Pit, the usual methods of gaining power and possession were off limits to Raegith and Helkree.  They had no outside connections, they were hated by the g
uards and none of the other inmates would trade with them, even if they had anything to trade.  The only outlet open to Raegith, the only thing no one could refuse him, was the Gulag.

The Gulag was an event held each
month at the Pit.  Raegith had left his cell long enough to witness a few minutes of one during his second week there.  Citizens filled seats high above the cells and watched as the large Rathgar and the wiry Lokai and even the few bestial Urufen would beat each other senseless.  Wagers were made between inmates and even among the guards.  It was a sordid affair, but it brought money into the Pit and the guards passed some of this fortune onto those who fought.  The best fighters were gifted with everything from meat, bread, booze… even female slaves.  Winning fights in the Gulag was the quickest and the most glorious way to ascend the ranks of inmates.  Gulag Champions were the most revered inmates in the Pit. 

The match that he watched was between
Torga and one of the Urufen warriors, over an Urufen female that looked very young.  It was a decent fight, but Torga was more than a match for his opponent and broke the warrior’s arm two minutes into the fight.  He threw his opponent to the ground and kicked him off of the center mound, laughing.  Several others seemed upset over the match, especially the few Urufen males, but Torga had no other challengers and the crowd went wild as he threw the fur-collared girl over his shoulder and left the yard to return to his cell.

The whole thing frightened and excited him at the same time
.  This sort of thing would never be allowed in Rellizbix and before he had been thrown into prison, he would have never considered competing in something like it.  He barely tolerated the training he was forced to go through with Zakk and Hemmil.  Now he was glad for that training.  Without it, he would not even have a chance in the Gulag.  As he was, Helkree was certain he would be killed immediately. 

He committed himself to an extreme regiment of training.  The calisthenics and strength training he was forced to do under Hemmil’s command were repeated, over and over throughout the day.  Raegith pushed himself to exhaustion before the morning meals were put out and forbid Helkree from protecting him in the yard.  Hugar was not the only inmate who wanted a piece of the foreign boy and most days Raegith could barely get a mouthful of food down before someone was
pulverizing him.  He did not fight back; instead he focused on how to take the punishment.  He did not want any of them to know he could fight until it was too late. 

Helkree assured him that as long as he refused to fight back, they would not kill him.  Death in combat, even in a prison brawl, was an honor and as long as he refused to fight, he would not be granted an honorable death.  They always stopped just short of killing him and Helkree
had to perform certain favors for the guards just to get bandages and tape for Raegith.  Finally, on the eve of the next Gulag, Helkree told him he was ready.

When Raegith woke up to the sounds of the first few revelers filling the stands, he felt unready for it.  He could barely keep his morning meal down. 
He filed into the yard with all of the other inmates.  He saw some who were already drunk and others who worked cramps out of their muscles.  The Rathgar all looked so much larger than everyone else; it was impossible for Raegith to imagine beating one of them.  None of them looked as nervous as he was.

The scheduled fights, between known fighters and champions were always the last events.  To begin the Gulag, there were always opening fights, where new combatants would enter for prizes offered up by guards and offer or accept personal challenges
.  The first match was over a beautiful Lokai girl put up for wager by Torga in an open challenge to all fighters.  She was slender and tall, with light silver hair that hung down to her buttocks.  Her violet eyes were large and her dark skin had a slight indigo hue to it.  Torga took the mound immediately and the crowd roared, only to be devastated when no one dared accept his challenge.  Boos and hisses rained down on them from high above as Torga looked around, smiled and left the mound, keeping the girl there as a prize.  The match was opened back up and two other Rathgar took the mound as Torga began placing bets on the match with those around him.

Raegith watched as the two combatants lumbered around the mound, trading a few blows to the arms and chest before they collided and dropped to the ground.  They rolled about, hitting each other however they could, each trying to choke the other out.  The fight was long and drawn out, blood spilling from both as they tore at each other.  Finally one of them, a Rathgar with longer black hair, beat the other into submission and wearily rose to his feet.  The crowd cheered and the Rathgar, not realizing the extent of his injuries, tried to emulate Torga and toss the tall Lokai woman over his shoulder, but he ended up collapsing with her on top of him.  She rolled off, her lilac gown getting stained and pulled away in a revealing manner and the whole place lit up with laughter.  Several other women took the mound to help the winner to his cell as two women dragged his opponent off and to the corner.

More matches went on and Raegith watched them all, never getting up the courage to enter any of them.  He watched the brutal, thuggish fashion in which the Rathgar fought and the nimble dance-like nature of the Lokai.  The Urufen had a more feral fighting style, going berserk and dropping to all fours.  Many of them were better fighters than Raegith had seen in his brief time outside the walls of Forster’s Keep.  Even Hemmil would find such a sight daunting.  The trophies continued to drop in value until the prizes were foodstuffs that were much more appetizing than the gruel they served twice a day in the meal line.  When a whole loaf of bread was offered up, Helkree nodded to Raegith.  It was time to climb the mound.

Raegith took a deep breath and pushed past the others to approach the mound.  The entire crowd grew silent as he slowly walked to the middle and looked
back at Helkree.  She was whispering what looked like a prayer.  The audience was either confused by his appearance or trying to figure out what the hell he was, because only a few bits of chatter echoed through the stands as he stood there, hoping no one else would challenge him.

Then another inmate walked up the mound; a Lokai he had not seen before and one who did not seem to have any
females behind him.  As the number of female cohorts was a sign of wealth in the Pit, Raegith assumed that the man was not of strong influence.  The Lokai never looked at him, though, only staring past him.  Raegith turned and saw a muscle-bound Rathgar approaching from behind him.  Three of them were about to fight at once.  Raegith remembered Hemmil’s lessons and moved to put both of them within his field of vision.  As the Lokai and Rathgar neared each other, they both glanced over at him.  The Lokai sneered at him and the Rathgar huffed his annoyance.  Then they both began side-stepping, moving away from Raegith.

They aren’t even going to fight me?
  Raegith had been so worried about having to finally fight that he had not considered his untouchable status might still seep through to the Gulag.  His anxiety completely drained away… and was replaced by humiliation.  They did not even want to be on the same mound as him.  He was not a threat.

The two squared off and began to fight each other.  The Lokai was quick and agile, darting around and landing fast, accurate blows.  The Rathgar shrugged them off, but got angrier with each hit.  He swung wildly and the Lokai ducked each one, but was clipped by the last one.  His white hair swirled about as he spun away from the hit, but it had dazed him.  The Rathgar closed in and slammed the Lokai, knocking him into the air and across the mound.  Raegith stood there, not
knowing what to do.

“What are you doing?” Helkree screamed at him.  “You can’t win just standing there with your thumb up your ass!”

Raegith looked around.  Everyone had forgotten about him even though he was still standing there on the mound.  He could continue standing there all day and it would be no different to them than if he were up in his cell.  The Rathgar was beginning to get the upper hand on the Lokai and the guards were just going to give the bread to him as soon as he won.  They might not even shoo Raegith off the mound afterward.  They could just as well have each and every fight with him just standing up there, waiting on someone to acknowledge him.  With the Lokai now in what looked like a violent hug from the Rathgar, Raegith was about to lose without even getting the chance to fight.

Raegith did not have a plan, exactly, when he ran up to the big Rathgar and hit him in the face.  After the first hit, he took him to the ground with a blow to the leg and then immediately went for the face.  The Rathgar was just as tough as Hemmil, however, and
shrugged off the damage.  Raegith took a punch right in the face that was hard enough to flatten him.  His head bounced against the ground and he tumbled halfway down the mound.  Then something unimagineable happened: he stayed conscious.

Despite the fights he had been in with Zakk and Hemmil and the months of beatings he had taken in the yard, he was sure that his first fight would end the minute his opponent hit him.  It was an inexplicable expectation born from inexperience in real, life-or-death combat, but once he realized he could stand against his enemy and take a punch and that he would not immediately shatter and die, he felt… liberated.  As the Rathgar bore down on him for bloody vengeance, Raegith got to his feet and spit out the blood pooling in his mouth.

“More,” he breathed to the wind and then smiled.

Then the Lokai came leaping in, both feet kicking into the Rathgar’s face.  Raegith got to his feet and raced in.  The Rathgar managed to catch the Lokai’s arm and leveled him with a punch to the face.  Raegith
had just found his resolve to fight and was not going to let the Lokai steal his glory.  He dashed in, lifted off the ground and threw a punch right into the Rathgar’s mouth.  He hit the ground and rolled past the big fighter, coming up behind him and kicked out hard into his spine.

The Rathgar folded backwards at the blow and cried out, clutching at his back and stumbling forward.  Raegith
was not some simple peasant scrapping for his life; he had received training.  The basics of combat had been drilled into him daily by a Paladin of Rellizbix.  He knew how to fight, he simply needed to break the lock and unleash the fury that had been simmering inside of him since the day he had been locked away inside Forster’s Keep.

He
followed the Rathgar, drilling his kidneys with rapid-fire punches.  The Rathgar righted himself and spun around, swinging hard with his giant arm, right for Raegith’s head.  Raegith slipped the blow and caught the fighter with an uppercut right under the chin.  Raegith kicked forward into his hip, buckling him and then grabbed his head and brought his knee up hard into the Rathgar’s face.  The Rathgar pulled away and Raegith hit him twice with punches to the face before the man could react.

Then the Lokai was beside Raegith, attacking the Rathgar in tandem.  They both attacked the legs, dropping the bigger man to his knees before a kick from each of them took him to the ground for good.  The Rathgar did not get back up and the two smaller combatants both stood over him, their chests heaving and sweat beading off of them.  The cheers of the crowd were dull in the back of Raegith’s mind as he looked down on his defeated opponent and then over to the Lokai.

The Lokai looked back at him and halfway smiled.  “Not bad, Grass-hair.”

“Oh, so you can see me now?” Raegith asked, smiling.

Raegith spun on his heel and dropped to the ground, sweeping the Lokai’s legs out from underneath him.  The unsuspecting Lokai hit the ground on his back and Raegith was on top of him.  The Lokai tried to fight him off, but Raegith grappled his arms down to his chest and pinned them there.  Taking advantage of the opening, Raegith headbutted the man in the face.  When the Lokai still fought him he threw another headbutt and then another, until the body underneath him went still.  Raegith leaned up and threw the opponent’s arms aside to show that he was unconscious.

“Fuck you!” Raegith grunted, wiping the blood off of his face with his forearm.

As he stood up, he heard the cries of the crowd above him soften and turn to jeering.  Raegith looked up at them and then, in a similar act as Torga did to the first Trophy that day, he waved off the entire audience dismissively.  The whole stadium erupted in fury as Raegith walked up and took the bread from the platform.  As they walked away from the mound, Helkree pulled him close.

“I’ve never seen anyone piss off so many people so quickly as you!  That has got me so hot right now.”

“They all hate me now.  How is that a good thing?” Raegith asked, still hearing the uproar of the spectators.

“H
atred is much more powerful than adoration.  They all love that dickhole Torga, but he no longer pulls a crowd.  There will be twice as many people in the stands next month, all to see you… get the shit beaten out of you.”

Raegith and Helkree left the yard and walked up to his cell on the second level.  His muscles were shaking and he felt much weaker than he should have.  He recognized the feeling from the time he had
tried to fight his way out of the tent where Onyx was being held captive.  Boram had told him that it was the nerves and that all men got them after their first big fight.  Raegith sat down on his bed as Helkree dipped his crude cup into the water pale and gave it to him.