“You can do this,” she reassured him. “I’ve got faith in you.”
A fanfare erupted from the sound system, which was, like everything else in this alien city, so high-tech that it was hidden from sight, the sound somehow projecting to all parts of the arena at the same time without the lag you’d hear in a stadium back on Earth.
A hush fell over the crowd as they watched the board intently. A second later the board flashed, revealing who the competitors would be from each team. Ziana felt her stomach drop.
“Y-you said it would be you,” she said in shock at the sight of her name, not his, listed as the selected fighter.
Dorrin was beside himself. “It should have been. They want an entertaining fight. They want to please the crowd.”
Ziana caught sight of Galla, slated to be her final opponent. The woman was smirking. Oh yeah, they’d done this intentionally. This was payback.
She turned her attention to the weapons arranged on racks on either end of the hexagon. They were dull, but there was no doubt they could do some damage in the right hands. Blunt swords, long staffs, shorter fighting sticks, and even war hammers, which looked like they could do some serious harm if swung hard enough. There were also balls on chains and several other bizarre implements, but regardless of which a fighter would choose, each touch would score the same points.
As a result, she figured speed would win out against brute strength. The large mace-like hammers were dangerous, but they’d drain your energy quickly, and once a weapon was selected you could not change for the duration of the day. Andas everyone would be watching, your later opponents would be noting any weaknesses and gaps in your style.
“Just stay out of their way,” Dorrin said as Ziana’s name was called for the first fight.
She looked over at the woman stepping into the hexagon, swinging a long staff with a bit of skill, but nothing impressive. It was Trammia Kuantos, an elite. And regardless of social status, this was the woman she would have to handle one way or another.
“Don’t worry,” she said, turning to enter the hexagon. “I’ve got this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Dorrin was beside himself with worry when he saw Ziana’s choice of weapons. Her opponent had reach with her staff, but she had selected a pair of shorter metal rods.
“No!” he nearly cried out, managing to keep his reaction to himself with only the utmost of self-control.
He couldn’t give the others the knowledge that this was a very bad idea. But why did she have to choosethose? She’d be stuck with them for the entire day, and there was nothing he could do to help.
The commencement horn sounded, and the women circled one another. Or, rather, Ziana began circling, sizing up her opponent in this new light. Trammia, on the other hand, wasted no time, a malicious grin on her lips. She lunged into an attack, her staff swinging forward in a swooshing arc.
“Oh,” Dorrin gasped as Ziana reacted. “That’swhy she chose them.”
His lover had been casually twirling the rods, but when Trammia attacked, the lazy spins became a blindingly fast flurry of movement. Ziana pivoted aside, spinning out of the way of Trammia’s staff while hitting it with a loud clang from the rodin one hand, the other arcing fast and hard at the overeager woman’s head.
Trammia, to her credit, managed to duck most of the blow, but the impact with her shoulder and neck was enough to stagger her. Ziana wasted no time, her arms whirling in a pinwheel of action, the twin rods raining down upon her unwitting adversary so fast and furious that it drove her to her knees.
“Stop!” the overseer called out.
Ziana looked at him with very clear annoyance. “I had her.”
“If a competitor is forced to the ground, it is the overseers call if the combatants should be reset,” he replied with a smirk.
Trammia was shaken as she rose to her feet, but she flashed a knowing glance and a little nod to the interloper.
Ziana wasnotamused.
Fucker is trying to fix the match for her. Fine. You want to play like that? Then let’s do this.
“Continue,” the man commanded.
Their attempted delay did not help the elite as expected. Rather, angry as Ziana had become, the poor woman didn’t stand a chance.
The other queued fighters watched in shock and awe of what they were seeing. This was unlike any fighting style they’d ever seen before, and some of them actually trained for this sort of thing. But Ziana? She was scoring points almost at will, battering her opponent high and low, her twin rods moving so fast that despite Trammia’s staff’s superior reach, she simply couldn’t move the weapon near fast enough to block them all, let alone attack.
The round ended with a loud horn and the crowd lost their minds, cheering at the incredible display they’d just witnessed.
Ziana gave them a wave, hamming it up for her fans, then walked off, ignoring her vanquished opponent and the official as she did.
