David Baldacci - The Finisher

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.