“Nothing.” He released my arm, holding up his hands in a peace gesture. “I want to spar is all. I figure I’m not going to see much of you for the next few weeks, so…”
“Really?” I said, staring at him. “And why is that?”
That time, Maygar really did look surprised. Recovering, he gave another half-laugh, clicking to himself, but his voice sounded close to angry.
“That dugra-te di aros really doesn’t tell you anything, does he?” he said. “Where is he, Bridge? Saying goodbye to all the unwillings he won’t be able to afford anymore, now that he has a wife to keep? Is that why he was saving his cock this morning?”
I felt my cheeks bloom bright red. Son of a bitch had heard us––of course he had. If anyone would be listening in, it would be Maygar.
“You know, hitting you is sounding better and better,” I said.
“Good!” he said, grinning. Slinging his arm around my shoulders, he led me towards the sparring circle. “I have money on me winning in three rounds. Point system. Twenty solid minimum… five spread to win. We’ll have Yerin count. He’s honest.”
“Whatever,” I muttered, elbowing him off me.
Yanking the sheepskin coat off my arms and tossing it on one of the stone benches, I saw a group of seers walking over from the common room inside the main compound.
All of them were male, of course, which was the case all over free Seertown. Female seers were five or six times more likely to be stolen at a young age. It meant that the majority of free, unowned females lived in the mountains and in underground communities.
It also meant the compound contained about an 90/10 split, men to women, which caused problems among the males… especially since over a third of those females were either married or liked other females, like Chandre.
I’d seen stats that showed murder of owners of girlfriends or wives as the single most frequent cause of non-military seer murder of humans.
“What do they want?” I grumbled, motioning towards the onlookers.
“Alyson.” Maygar laughed. “They want to see the Bridge get her ass kicked!” He jumped up and down on the balls of his toes, smacking his hands together. “Come on. I feel a shut out coming on… easy twenty.”
I watched Jon and Cass come out of the compound too. They must have either asked or followed when they saw the place emptying out.
Jon was shaking his head at me already.
When I glanced at Cass, she held up her hands in a question.
I knew what she meant. I shrugged in response, letting her know I had no idea where he was. Then it struck me. Maygar might not be the only one annoyed at Revik. Hesitating on that thought for a split second, I shrugged it off.
This would be a quick spar, no big deal.
Revik didn’t even need to know about it, if I didn’t let myself get too bloodied up.
I swung my arms a few times, then stepped into the circle, waiting for Maygar.
He entered the other end of the ring, smiling.
I found Yerin among the faces. His expression appeared close to Jon’s, meaning pinched and faintly worried, which was unusual for him. Yerin was generally the unflappable type, so I found myself giving him a second look.
You’re judging this thing, right? I asked him. Don’t let him cheat, Yerin.
“I won’t cheat.” Maygar grinned, falling into stance, his hands up in rough claws.
Half-smiling back, I shook my head and fell into stance on my side of the circle. Maygar acted like a big child half the time, but I couldn’t hate him the way Revik did.
In an odd kind of way, we were friends.
I held up a hand, open palmed. When the crowd quieted a little, I said the scripted words.
“Come, then.”
Still smiling, Maygar circled, once.
He leapt in, a test as much as anything, and a total departure from his usual style, which I knew pretty well from training with him in the past. I stepped easily out of the way, shifting sideways and throwing a hook at his ribs.
I managed to surprise him. Sucking in a breath, he twisted around, threw a counter. I dodged that, too, aiming a kick at his sternum.
I connected, hard, pushing him back.
“You’re a little wound up, Bridge.” Maygar smiled, bouncing backwards on his toes. “Something bothering you, that you have all this aggression?”
“You’re a pig, Maygar. Come a little closer, why don’t you…?”
“Why aren’t you grappling with your man right now?”
“Maybe I wasn’t in the mood.”
Nervous laughter erupted in the crowd of seers.
I caught Jon looking quizzically at Cass with my peripheral vision, and that’s when Maygar’s fist connected solidly with my jaw, just before he kicked my thigh with the flat of his foot. I staggered back, ducking just in time to avoid another throw at my temple with his other hand.
“That’s two,” he said, smiling.
“You’re forgetting I got you first,” I said, smiling back. “Twice.”
“No spread. Two and two,” Yerin verified.
Maygar stepped sideways when I went in the next time. I threw a few hard jabs, then a fast cross. One of the jabs connected, but not with enough force to drive him back. I was faster than him, but his arms were about twice the size of mine so it counted when he got me––an advantage he pressed. I needed to hit him twice as often, and I couldn’t be sloppy, or he’d stun me and make me into a piñata until I recovered.
He blocked a high and low kick, one after the other, then got more serious, throwing combinations of about ten, twelve, punches and kicks. He only got me a few times, but I found myself sinking into this mode, where my head fell silent, and I felt my limbs moving on their own. It felt good. I was fighting well, and I liked this mindless space, where my body just reacted.
I circled back after a few more clinches, then darted in and got him with a feint to the knee followed by an immediate kick to the head, which connected.
Maygar staggered, and I slid around his returning kick, and got him again in the sternum. I was winning, which felt good, too.
I couldn’t get cocky, though. It would get tougher once we entered in sight skills.
If we made it to grappling, I’d be in for a serious fight.
Mulei was close to a lot of the human, Shaolin-based fighting arts, but only in the initial levels of fighting. Sparring in mulei had very definite rules. Straight hits and kicks in the first segment. No grappling or sweeps until it had been called by the judge, usually in the last third of the fight, because that was when fights generally got dirty. And no sight skills until eight hits had been reached by at least one opponent.
“That’s seven,” I told Maygar. “Five for you.”
“Hmmm. That’s not too bad, Bridge… but you’re still going to lose.”
I smiled, shaking my head. “You think so? Why is that?”
His eyes grew still, his voice soft. “Because I want it more, Allie.”
He never used my real name. Him saying it now sent an odd shiver down my spine.
I was still staring at him when he leapt up, catching me off guard with a solid, full-force hit to my eye. He put his weight behind it, and it sent me backwards in a heap. I rolled, fought to get back up, but he got me three more times in quick succession…
…and then we were into sight skills.
Without waiting, he slammed me with his aleimi.
He knocked me halfway out of my body before I turned, hitting him with a spinner in the lower half of his chest.
He’d have the advantage here, since he could split his consciousness without choking like I did. But I was getting better at accessing structures in my light. We couldn’t just go all out and whale on each other anyway. There were rules here, too. No hits to the structures above the head, no breaking anything.
That left mostly shoves, misdirection and tapping to drain light.
Maygar went straight for a tap. Before I could shield, I felt him
aim for the separation pain. Seeing it as an opening in my light, he fought to resonate with it.
Realizing too late that I was wide open from my morning with Revik, I jerked back in alarm. Unfortunately, panic opens your shields, so in my haste to get away from his probe…
I let him in.
He laughed in triumph.
We traded a few blows while I fought to keep him out of the Barrier and away from the tap. Then he circled back, putting some distance between us. Still grinning, he slid into the line he’d created between us.
Before I could take a breath, he pulled roughly with the part of him that resonated. When I opened involuntarily, he forced his way into me as far as he could go.
Pain blinded me.
My knees buckled. I fell before I realized what had happened.
Gasping for breath, I slammed out instinctively when he came towards me, cracking him with my aleimi.
It broke his focus on the tap and the pain ebbed, briefly––but I didn’t have much time.
Jumping up, I ran at him before he could re-establish the link. While he was still halfway out of his body, I punched him in the stomach, then front kicked him before he could recover, hitting him in the upper chest.
He backed off, landing more of himself in his body.
He laughed aloud though, triumphant.
Was it good for you, Bridge?
What he’d done was within the rules, but it pissed me off, and he felt it.
What’s wrong? he sent. That part a little tender, Bridge?
I guess if it’s the only way you can hold your own, I retorted.
I told you, Bridge… I’m going to win.
Maybe I wasn’t only talking about in the ring.
The humor on Maygar’s face evaporated. I heard snickers in the watching seers, before his pulse of anger quieted it.
“Call it, Yerin,” he said. His eyes never left mine.
“Physical hits only for points.” Yerin reminded us. “Legal play. Thirteen even.”
“You ready to give up, Bridge?” he said.
But I was remembering something Chandre told me about taps, about how every connection goes two ways. Without answering him, I split my aleimi, just long enough to find the thread. The fact that he hit at such an obvious target actually made it easier.
In seconds, I pinpointed the tap.
Without waiting, I jumped out of my body.
Using several structures in my aleimi at once, I slid into his light…
…and yanked ruthlessly, draining him in one hard hit.
When my eyes clicked back into focus, he was down on one knee, panting. Pain rippled off him, and he stared up at me, eyes glazed.
Smiling, I kicked him in the face.
Guess it’s been awhile for you, too, I sent.
I punched him again, and he fell to his back. I circled him once, getting in another hit and two more kicks before I backed off, letting him climb to his feet.
I gave him a taunting smile, but he didn’t return it, or even look angry. Instead, his eyes had a focus in them I’d never seen.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was fighting for his life.
“Jesus,” I said. “Just how much money do you have on this fight?”
Yerin cleared his throat. “Open format. Grappling and sweeps.” He looked at me, his eyes worried. “I’m sorry, Alyson. I have to call it. You’ve got eighteen.”
I blinked at Yerin, unclear why he was apologizing.
When I turned back…
Maygar punched me in the face. He moved so quietly I hadn’t felt him. He swept my leg in the same heartbeat, knocking me flat.
I landed on my back, the wind knocked out of me.
I threw my hands behind my head to jump to my feet, but he leapt onto my middle, sitting astride me. He grabbed my arms where I’d reached back, pinning me.
“What if I claim you?” he said, panting.
Furious that I’d been so stupid, I struggled before meeting his gaze. A strange light had come to his eyes. I noticed his aleimi suddenly, snaking around me. He wasn’t just pulling on the tap; he was doing the equivalent of feeling me up with his light.
Bucking my body, I struggled to get him off, but he held me there, fighting his way to my wrists despite my squirming, pinning me to the dirt.
“He’s not even here to argue it,” he said.
Maygar looked down at my body. I tried to head-butt him, but he moved out of the way. His smile faded. Leaning closer, he held me down with his chest. He caressed my face with his, kissing my neck, then my cheek.
I froze, stopped breathing.
I would never have refused you, Allie…
I stared up at him in shock.
Kissing my face again, caressing it with his fingers, he raised his head, looking around at the rest of the crowd.
“He hasn’t consummated,” he said loudly. “I have the right.” He scanned faces, looking for dissent. “There are witnesses. Many. You all heard her ask and saw him refuse her. Does anyone dispute that I have the right?”
I stared around at the others, trying to regain my breath, gripping his wrist in one hand, doing my best to dig my nails into his skin, to get him off.
Then his words really sank in.
I didn’t understand, not really, not any more than I understood about half of the seer rules and customs thrown my way, but it struck me that he’d planned this, that there was something happening here that had nothing to do with the reasons he’d given me for the fight.
Worse, he had accomplices.
I tried again to kick him off. Given that he weighed about a hundred pounds more than me, all of it muscle, my attempts were futile, and only seemed to reinforce my helplessness under him.
Normally, my strategy with sweeps went something like this, “Don’t get knocked down.”
I stared up at Yerin, panting. “Yerin! You’re judging this. I surrender. He’s won––”
Maygar punched me in the face, hard.
Shock silenced me, as much as the blow. My head rolled on my neck.
“I don’t accept,” he said. “We said play until twenty. Five point spread. That’s only seventeen for me.” His voice grew cold. “You have eighteen, Bridge. You can’t surrender. I have six more hits before it’s done.”
When I could focus my eyes again, I stared up at him, bewildered, still dazed from the hit. Seers weren’t exactly chivalrous when they fought. You could hit a downed or pinned opponent––in fact, it was pretty much expected. Even so, I’d never had anyone refuse to let me tap out before hitting the point spread.
I realized suddenly, what he was doing.
He was keeping the coercion part of this legal somehow, doing it within the auspices of a fight. I stared up at him in disbelief, still fighting to process what my brain had already figured out.
“You wouldn’t,” I said to him.
Maygar stared back at me, all the humor in his face gone.
Holding my wrists in one hand, he caressed my face until I jerked away. His eyes shone dark and hard, a hunter’s eyes, and I realized I was in trouble.
My commander’s voice returned.
“Game over,” I said. “And I’m not laughing. Get him the fuck off me!” I looked around at the watching seers. “Now! That’s an order!”
The faces staring down at me paled, but none of the seers moved.
“What is this?” I demanded. “Gang rape? Are you a bunch of animals now?”
“He has the right, Alyson,” Yerin said.
I swiveled my head, staring at Yerin in disbelief. “What is this?” I stared around at these people, many of whom I’d begun to think of as my friends.
I looked for Jon and Cass. I saw them on the sidelines, being held by seers. Jon’s eyes were glazed, not-home, the same with Cass, but I saw Cass's hand on her sidearm, as if she’d realized something was wrong right before they knocked her out.
They’d imprisoned my damned friends. Like common worms.
Fighting a rage that boiled up through my limbs, I struggled. I looked for Chandre, but didn’t see her. I didn’t see Grent, Tenzi or Balidor, either. I looked back at Yerin, trying reason, knowing it was the only thing that would work on him.
“You can’t subject me to a custom I know nothing about. You can’t.” I fought Maygar’s hands. “Where’s Vash? He’s the keeper of custom, isn’t he? I have the right of contest, don’t I? At least ask him…”
I reached out with my light but Maygar blocked me, preventing my scan for Vash.
In desperation, I reached for Revik…
…and Maygar slammed me with his light.
He hit me hard enough that I nearly blacked out.
When I opened my eyes, blood trickled from my nose; I tasted it in my mouth. I sent another flare, trying to reach Revik again. Maygar blocked it, slamming my light again and I gasped, tasting more blood.
“He broke the rules…” I gasped. “Taps only, no damage.”
“She’s right,” Yerin said to Maygar, sounding worried. “Don’t do that again. We’ll shield her from him, if it’s necessary.”
I stared at the circle of faces, realized none of them would help me.
“I’ll be a good husband to you,” Maygar said. …better than him.
He shifted his weight. I felt his erection press against my belly, hard enough and deliberate enough that it couldn’t be a mistake.
Letting out a yell, I fought him, still in disbelief as he unhooked his belt.
He slid his hand under my shirt, and I fought harder, shrieking.
I pleaded with him when I couldn’t get him off, but he pinned me with his body, arm and legs. He was breathing harder. Sweat had formed on his forehead and upper lip. Pushing up my shirt, he caressed my skin, putting light into his fingers, pulling on mine. He kissed my breast, putting light into his tongue.
The same hand slid into my pants, between my legs.
Yelling out in disbelief, I screamed, trying harder to writhe away.
He pulled on my aleimi through the tap, holding me still, and my light responded without my willing it. Pain coursed through me, nearly blinding.
His fingers were inside me then and I cried out, begging the others to stop him. I heard him groan, felt his other hand tighten on me as his weight grew heavy. He stopped what he was doing long enough to untie my pants, forcing them down over my hips, his hands suddenly urgent.
Shield (Bridge & Sword: Awakenings #2): Bridge & Sword World Page 9