The Finisher

TRIGINTA QUINQUE: The Battle Begins

ALL WUGS WERE required to attend the opening of this Duelum. I thought that a bit interesting since we were supposedly surrounded by bloodthirsty Outliers wanting to feast on our organs. The pitch was nearly encircled by a rim of trees that had evaded inclusion on the Wall, at least for now. After eating a bit, I showed up at first section of light. I had tried to sleep the night before but couldn’t. So I decided I would get down here early and see what I could see.

The pitch site was called the Peckwater Quadrangle after Ronald Peckwater, a long-ago mighty Duelum champion of Wormwood. The inside of the pitch was uneven and dented in innumerable places from large male bodies colliding violently with the dirt over the course of many previous Duelums. A wooden platform had been erected in the center of the pitch. Here would sit the VIWs, or Very Important Wugs. Behind the platform was a large board with all the names of the competitors, where the progress in the Duelum would be chronicled for all to see. There were also betting circles set up on the pitch’s perimeter, where wagers would be placed. The ever-enterprising Roman Picus ran a right successful betting pool through which he had relieved many Wugs of their coin over the sessions.

I had left Destin back at my digs under the floorboards. I was terrified that during the course of the fighting, I would unconsciously take flight and my secret would be exposed.

The air was fresh and warm and the sky clear. As the time to fight drew closer, the fairies in my stomach seemed to multiply. In my mind I went over and over what Delph had taught me. I felt stronger, more nimble and tougher because of his training. I had beaten Cletus up before, but not in a Duelum. And he had grown this past session to where he was far bigger than me. Still, he was a git and I simply refused to lose to a git.

The crowds started assembling near the end of the first section of light. Some Wugs smiled and gave me encouraging words. However, others shunned me. If I were to take a poll, it seemed that Wormwood would be split right down the middle on my guilt or innocence. It wasn’t that the Wugs against me really thought me bad. It was just that many Wugs accepted whatever Council told them. And, in all honesty, I had enemies here, even before I had been plunked in Valhall.

Many Wugs proceeded on to the small betting area, probably to wager coin on Cletus Loon bashing in my brains.

Delph showed up with his father in time to see Bogle and the carriage arrive. Morrigone, Thansius and John alighted and took their places on the platform along with other members of Council. Julius Domitar sat in the back of this group, along with Wugs I did not normally associate with because I was apparently not good enough.

Delph patted me on the shoulder and said, “How do you feel, Vega Jane?”

“I feel great,” I lied. “I can’t wait for it to start.” Now, that wasn’t a lie. I wanted it to start before my head exploded. I just kept telling myself that it would be terribly bad form to vomit on Cletus Loon before the fight bell had even rung. Though it would be enormously satisfying to see my sick on his shirt.

For expediency, there would be multiple bouts carried on at the same time in the quadrants of the pitch. There was no time limit on a bout. Wugs kept fighting until one no longer could. That was a stark rule and one that any sane Wug might have questioned. However, sanity seemed to be in limited supply these lights and nights in Wormwood.

I eyed the other females who would be fighting. They both looked sicker and paler than I probably did. I was not in the first set of bouts, so I sat on a small knoll overlooking the pitch and awaited Delph, who was in a first bout pitted against Digby. I was sure that most bettors had wagered on Delph, and when I looked over at the betting board, I could see that he was a heavy favorite.

Digby was in the process of removing his great, filthy shirt. I had always imagined him to be flabby and hideously dirty without clothes on. Thus, I was surprised to see him so muscular. Though I had been quite correct about the hideously dirty part.

Digby went through a series of stretches and then started running in place. His muscles rippled as he did so. Then he started to do a bit of practice pugilism, weaving and bobbing and punching. He seemed quite adept at it, very fast and very accurate. I glanced worriedly over at Delph. He had not removed his shirt and he was not stretching or pretend-boxing. He was just standing there with his gaze squarely on Ran Digby. And in his look I began to see a Delph with whom no one would want to tangle. His strong hands curled to fists and he kept looking at Digby with such fierce concentration that he reminded me of the jabbits after me at Stacks. I wanted to tell Delph good luck but I was afraid of breaking whatever trance he was putting himself in.

Thansius rose and addressed us. “Welcome to the Duelum,” he said in a booming voice. “And what a fine light for it. I want to wish luck to all fighters. We all want clean bouts and I have confidence in our referees to ensure that that will indeed be the case.”

I was really only half listening. My gaze flitted over to John and then away again several times. Finally, our gazes caught each other. I saw him actually smile at me encouragingly before Morrigone drew his attention away.

I caught her once looking at me. Her expression was unreadable, and all I could think about was her vanishing in a mist of blue. She could banish Wugs’ memories and, in the case of Delph, damage their minds. She was an extraordinary Wug, I had to give her that. But she was also dangerous. Anyone with such powers was. And it was only an instant later that I realized I might have to include myself in that group.

Of the bouts to take place now, I cared about only one. Delph and Ran Digby entered their quadrant. Delph had taken off his shirt and I marveled at his lean, chiseled physique. There was not a smidgen of fat on him. He still looked only at Digby, who stared back at his opponent as he flexed his massive arms and worked kinks out of his creta-thick neck.

Right at the strike of the second section of light, the competition bell rang. I had to blink because I would not have thought it possible that two males that large could move that fast. They collided in the very center of the quadrant, and the sound of bone and muscles crashing together made me light-headed. It was like two cretas ramming together.

Digby got a headlock on Delph and looked like he was trying to rip his head from his torso. Delph strained to free himself with his hands and this exposed his body. Digby took advantage of this by delivering thunderous knee kicks to Delph’s stomach and sides.

I cringed with each blow. I was stunned that Delph was still upright. But then with a mighty effort, he broke Digby’s hold on him and the two huge Wugs faced off. Digby was breathing heavy. Delph looked calm and in control. I marveled at his composure after nearly having his head ripped off and his body wickedly slammed with blows from Digby’s bony knees.

But it was over more quickly than I could have imagined. After they each threw a few punches that careened off their hardened torsos, and Digby missed with a kick, Delph got a choke hold on Digby. He lifted him full off the ground, spun around and delivered his opponent face-first into the hard dirt. There was a crunching sound and Digby lay still.

Delph let go of Digby’s neck and rose. The referee checked Digby’s status and then waved over the Mendens, who hurried in with their bulky bags. While they were resuscitating Digby, the referee raised Delph’s hand to the sky and declared him the winner. I cheered louder than anyone. When Delph came back over, he was the old Delph again, the steely, disquieting look gone and replaced with a lopsided grin.

I gave him a hug and when I drew my hand back, it was covered with blood. I looked up in horror at him.

“’Tis Digby’s, not mine, Vega Jane.”

I glanced over at Digby, who was slowly sitting up, his face covered by a veil of blood and his nose cleanly broken. I had to put a hand on my stomach to keep my first meal where it should remain.

Ten slivers later the first set of bouts was over. The female had been soundly beaten by her male opponent although he had “gallantly” refrained from smashing in her brain. Yet the Mendens had still been called and she ended up being carried off the pitch on a stretcher with her mum sobbing next to her.

The bell for the next bouts rang immediately after the fighters had gathered on their respective quadrants. Twenty hard-fought slivers later, more fighters were out of the Duelum, including the only other female. She had collapsed backward after being charged by her opponent, a seventeen-session-old Dactyl who worked at Stacks. I don’t believe he actually touched her. I think she simply fainted.

Part of me wished for such an option. But after my dustup with Morrigone, if I tried anything like that, I truly believed my head would soon disappear from my shoulders.

Eventually, the final set of bouts was called. I took a long breath while Delph gripped my shoulder and gave me encouraging words.

“He’s a soft Wug, he is,” he told me. “Loon won’t know what hit him.”

I smiled weakly and nodded. “We can celebrate this night,” I said.

But on the inside I was scared. There was no other way to describe it. I had a plan. I really did. Cletus had taken off his shirt. He was not as flabby as he used to be, with his body growing as much as it had. I of course kept my shirt on. He was two sessions older than me, a full-grown Wug, actually. And while it was true I had bested him in the past, it had been the far past — except when I had kicked him in the belly the light I’d been confronted by the Carbineers and he’d nicked my egg. I’m sure Cletus had been training hard for this bout, no doubt learning dirty tricks from the likes of Ran Digby and Non. And I had to face that he was male and thus stronger than me.

But he was not tougher than me.

Loon grinned maliciously and puffed out his chest and flexed his arms while I stood rock still. Our referee appeared and told us the rules, of which there were precious few. One that did surprise me was that if you were forced out of your quadrant by your opponent, he was given a free blow to any part of your body. Why Delph had failed to mention that one, I had no idea. It was no wonder all the Wugs charged each other on the bell.

The referee stepped back. Right before the bell was to ring, Cletus said, “If you pretend to faint, I’ll go easy on you. You’ll be able to see out of your eyes and chew your meal this night.”

“Funny, I was just about to make you the same offer.”

His grin disappeared and was replaced with a determination I had seldom seen on his features. So much for my bravado.

I glanced over his shoulder and was not surprised to see Delph gazing anxiously at me. But I was surprised to see that my brother was staring just as anxiously from the platform. To my left stood Cletus’s parents. Cacus Loon looked very confident. Hestia looked like she might be sick.

My heart was beating so fast I was afraid it might break a rib. I had no saliva left in my mouth. I felt like I had forgotten how to breathe. Before I realized it, the bell had rung and Cletus came charging at me. I managed to block most of his first blow, but my arm instantly started swelling. I fell back, giving up precious ground of which Cletus took full advantage.

He swung a kick at my midsection that I just barely managed to avoid. But I was near the edge of the quadrant and if Cletus got a free shot on me, I seriously doubted I could withstand it. At the last instant I ducked under his blow, whipsawed around him and stood back up on the other side of him. He whirled and came at me.

“What’s the matter, Vega, afraid to fight?”

I would have said something clever back, only my mouth was so dry all that came out was “Aaaghmllff-prat.”

We danced around for a bit, each probing the other’s defenses. I threw a few awkward punches, which he easily blocked. His confidence was growing by the sliver, I could tell. I swung a kick that he derisively flicked away. He laughed.

But I had my plan and I bided my time. And then it came. He feinted with his right hand. I kept the grin from showing on my face as I pretended to block this blow. When he threw his left, I had already struck. I slammed the top of my head into his face, a move that Wugs quaintly termed a Wormwood kiss. As Cletus had done when I tricked him into revealing his fighting maneuvers, he brought up his knee, aiming for my belly. However, my blow to his head having staggered him, Cletus drifted to the left, allowing me time to hook his leg with my arm. With all my strength I ripped upward on this limb. He flipped over backward and landed on his head.

That was all I needed. I pounced and was on him like the black shuck on an escaped prisoner from Valhall. Scissoring my long legs around his torso and pinning his arms to his sides, I pounded away with my fists until Cletus, teary and wailing like a hungry baby Wug, screamed out that he was surrendering.

The referee quickly stepped in. When he tried to help Cletus up, he pushed him away, nearly causing the referee to fall. The referee lifted my hand in victory at the same time that Cletus punched me full in the face. I fell backward and carried the referee down with me.

Cries of “Foul!” and “Valhall for him!” came from the crowd of Wugs.

Cacus Loon grabbed his enraged son by the arm and dragged him off the pitch while Delph raced over and lifted me off the ground.

“Are you okay, Vega Jane?” he asked anxiously. He aimed a glare at Cletus and yelled, “You shameless pillock!”

I rubbed the blood off my mouth and nose and checked to make sure my teeth were all still there. They were, but I felt my eye swelling already. Despite all that, the biggest grin spread across my face.

“I won, Delph,” I gasped.

“I know you did,” he replied, grinning back.

With his help I staggered off the pitch. The first round was done. Only four more to go. With this thought, the grin slipped off my face. But only for a sliver. I had won after all. The first female to ever do so in a Duelum.

As I looked up at the platform, I saw John standing and clapping while Morrigone put her hands together once and then stopped. As we passed the betting circle, I saw Roman Picus giving a what-for to Cacus Loon while Cletus stood there with murder all over his features, although tears still stained his face. My victory had apparently cost Roman dearly.

I was surprised when Delph went over to Roman and held out a tiny slip of parchment. Roman eyed him with unfriendly eyes and then proceeded to count off ten coins and handed them to Delph. “Lucky first time,” Roman said bitterly.

“She won fair and square,” replied Delph. “No luck about it. Har!”

As we walked off, I said, “You bet on me?”

“Course I did.”

“I didn’t know you wagered.”

“Every Wug takes a flutter now and again and I ain’t no different, am I?” he said casually.

“What if I’d lost? Did you have the coin to lose?”

“I put it on credit. Besides, I knew you were going to win,” he said flatly.

“But what if I didn’t?”

“Well, then I might have had a wee problem with Roman Picus, mightn’t I?”

“Delph, you’re mental, you really are.”

“And we’re also winners this light, Vega Jane.”

We were winners, both of us. I hadn’t felt this good in a really long time.

Even with a bashed-in face.

LATER, DELPH USED his coins to treat us to a meal at a shop on the High Street called the Starving Tove. I had never eaten a meal in a shop before. It was not something that a working Wug like myself could ever have considered. To pay another Wug perfectly good coin to sit leisurely at a table and be served a fancy meal seemed barmy.

I absolutely loved it!

Before we went, Delph and I had cleaned up and I had put on the only other set of clothes I owned — a wool skirt that nearly reached the ground and a long-sleeved shirt made from amaroc hide that had belonged to my mother. I even found an old hat of hers from a pile of odds and ends in the corner. It was wide-brimmed and faded and looked, I’m sure, hideously old-fashioned. But I wanted to wear it that night more than anything I had ever owned.

I had run cold water from the pipes over my eye, but it was still so puffy I could barely see out of it. I had decided against using the Adder Stone to heal it. Wugs might get suspicious with such a speedy recovery.

We sat at a table in the back of the Starving Tove. Other Wugs sat at several tables nearer the front. I didn’t know if that was because we weren’t dressed as nicely, but it probably was. The other Wugs eating there — two of whom were members of Council — occasionally glanced over at us and then had whispered conversations. I tried to ignore it, but it wasn’t easy.

Delph, who had obviously noted this, said, “Everybody knows you now, Vega Jane.”

I focused on him. “What?”

“Beat a male, didn’t you? First female ever to do it in a Duelum. Famous you are.”

I thought about this for a sliver or two and looked around at some of the Wugs who were staring at me. A couple smiled and nodded encouragingly. Maybe Delph was right.

When our food came, I couldn’t believe the abundance of it. I didn’t even pick up my fork. I just looked at the heaping plate in front of me. I whispered to Delph, “Do we just take a bit and then pass it on to the other tables?”

“’Tis all yours, Vega Jane.”

“Are you sure?” I said incredulously.

“Yup.”

“But you’ve never been here, have you?”

“Once.”

“When?” I demanded.

“After I won a Duelum. Roman Picus took me here.”

“Why would that lout take you anywhere?”

“It was me first Duelum. I was the underdog. Picus bet many coins on me and won. So he treated me to a meal. Only thing I ever got from that great git, o’course.”

I looked down at the cornucopia of meats, vegetables, cheeses and breads, and licked my lips like a hungry canine. Which reminded me, I had to save some of this for Harry Two, who was patiently waiting outside.

Thirty slivers later, I set down my fork and knife. I had my berry juice topped off and took a last long draught and rubbed my full belly. I then let out a long sigh and stretched like a feline after a nap. Delph grinned at me.

“Good eating,” he said.

“You shouldn’t have, Delph. It cost a coin apiece. I saw the menu board out front.”

“Coins you won me, so there.”

Well, I couldn’t really argue with that. And I had the bruises and bloodletting to show for it. I got a small bag from the server and put the rest of my meal in it for Harry Two. As we were walking out, a well-dressed female Wug rose from her table and shook my hand. “I am very proud of you, my dear Vega Jane,” she said.

I had seen her before. Her mate was on Council. He sat there in his great black tunic and stared up at me with a disapproving expression. I imagined he might be one of Krone’s allies. He didn’t put out his hand for me to shake. But then again, he wouldn’t, would he? Some of my dirt might rub off on him.

Her mate pulled her back to her chair and looked at her reproachfully.

“Thank you,” I managed to mumble and then hurried on.

I heard them start arguing as we reached the door.

Outside, I gave Harry Two his meal right there on the cobblestones. As he gobbled it up, I turned to Delph.

“Thanks for the meal.”

He smiled. “It was a good light.”

“It was a great light. When will the next Duelum round be?”

“Two lights.”

I groaned. I thought there would be a longer interval.

“When will we know who we have to fight?”

“Next night.”

We walked back to my digs and sat in front of the empty fireplace.

It was night now and my eyes were heavy.

Delph noted this, rose and we said our good-byes. I watched him walk off down the Low Road until I could see him no longer. I closed the door and lay on my cot, Harry Two next to me. And then I did the only thing I could do. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.