David Baldacci - The Finisher

He sighed, gave me a patronizing smile, wrote it out and handed it to me.

“’Tis your coin. But like taking it from a nip of a Wug.”

“Exactly what I was thinking about you.”

I turned and rushed off before I barfed in front of him. That coin was my last. I had nary a bean to my name after that.

The first bouts this light went by more slowly than in the first round. The competition had gotten harder as the weakest fighters had already fallen. This gave me time to work myself up into a ball of nerves so tight I found I couldn’t even speak.

It didn’t help that word had gotten around that Delph had withdrawn from the Duelum because of unspecified injuries. I knew his absence from the field would make Non a favorite to win, as he had narrowly lost to Delph in the last Duelum. This would only give that oaf more incentive to crush me, not that he needed any. I looked down at my fist. Without Destin, it was just a fist, a female fist and nothing more.

I walked around the pitch, swinging my arms and trying to keep loose. I wasn’t paying attention and knocked into something so hard that I fell back on the ground. When I looked up to see what I had hit, Non was staring down at me. And behind him was Cletus Loon, with his face all bandaged, several friends of Cletus, and Ted Racksport, who had already won his match this light by quickly beating senseless the muscular Dactyl who worked at Stacks. I had watched the match and come away impressed. Racksport was stronger and more nimble than he looked and had turned the Dactyl’s muscle against him and given the bloke quite a pasting. He smiled at me through crooked teeth.

But I wasn’t focused on him. I was looking at Non. He seemed huge. As big as the cobble last night. He wore his metal breastplate, which I didn’t think was even allowed in the Duelum, not that he would need it. The dent that I had put in it was still there. As I looked at him, his gaze drifted down to the dent and then back to me.

He smiled and bent down so only I could hear him when he spoke.

“Luck dinnae strike twice, Vega. If I were you, I’d see to a bed at the Care before you step in the quad with me.” He put a knuckled fist in my face and said in a loud voice, “Be sure and count all your teeth. That way you’ll know how many you have to pick up when I’m done with ya.”

Racksport, Cletus and his chums thought this the funniest thing they ever in all their sessions had heard. They roared with laughter even as I picked myself up and walked off on jelly legs. I was wondering if I had time to go back to my digs and retrieve Destin when the bell for the second set of matches rang.

My mouth as dry as the bank of a dead river, I headed for my assigned quad. I had not previously looked up to the spectator platform, but now I did. Thansius was there, but there was no sign of John or Morrigone. Well, at least Morrigone wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing Non beat me senseless.

Harry Two followed me to my quad and I had to tell him in no uncertain terms that he could not attack Non while we were fighting. Then I whispered in his ear, “But when he finishes me off, have at the bloke and don’t leave much behind.”

Harry Two was now nearly ninety pounds and none of it was fat. And his fangs were nearly as long as my longest finger. He looked at me with what seemed like the greatest understanding. I believe he even smiled. I dearly loved my canine.

As I stepped into the quad, I glanced to my left and saw Delph shuffling up with his arm in the sling and his bad leg supported by the cudgel I had given him. He smiled encouragingly, but when he glanced at Non, who had stepped into the other side of the quad, I could see his encouraging look fade to a morose resignation.

I swallowed hard as the referee gave instructions. That’s when I noted that Non had not taken off his metal. When I pointed this out to the referee, he looked at me like I was quite barmy.

“Unless he takes it off and beats you with it, female, ’tis well within the rules of the Duelum.”

“And if he hits me with it and kills me?” I said angrily.

“Then he will be appropriately penalized.”

Non laughed. “But you’ll still be dead.”

“Non!” admonished the referee, a small, wizened old Wug named Silas. I suspected he had very poor eyesight, because he had looked at my belly button when addressing me and had looked to Non’s left when addressing him. “Let’s have a good, clean fight,” Silas added, now staring at my knees.

Non cracked his knuckles. I tried to crack my knuckles but succeeded only in bending one of my pinkies back so far I cried out in pain. Non laughed.

The fight bell was rung and Non hurtled straight at me. I instinctively backed away, sidestepped Non at the last instant and poked one of my long legs out. He tripped over my shin, sending shock waves up and down my entire body, and he fell like a great tree to the dirt. I skirted away from him as he rose and whirled around, blood in both eyes. He came at me again and once more I dodged him. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep this up. At some point I would be out of puff. One punch and I had little doubt I would go down. I once again lamented leaving Destin behind.

“Stop mucking about, female,” snarled Non. “You’re here to fight, not run like a skittish baby slep.” But as he said these words, he was also breathing heavily. It finally dawned on me. The lout’s metal breastplate was very heavy, no doubt. Wearing it and having to chase me was tiring him out faster than he had anticipated.

He lunged at me again and I let him get within a gnat’s whisker before I leapt out of the way. My laboring with the bundles of rocks that Delph had made for me was actually paying off. I felt very light on my feet. And strong even without Destin.

Non dropped to one knee to regain his breath and I took the opportunity to slam my boot into his arse, driving him headfirst into the dirt.

Delph yelled, “Atta female, Vega Jane!”

When Non regained his feet, I could see he was in a paddy, nearly foaming at the mouth. If his eyes could have harmed me, I would have been blown into a million bits. But, as with Cletus Loon, I now had a plan. It seemed that on the field of combat, I was becoming good at keeping my wits and employing my tactics on the fly.

Non continued to chase me and I continued to keep just out of reach. I got a bit overconfident once, though, and his backhanded blow swiped across my head and knocked me more than three feet into the air. I tasted my blood as a great gash was opened over my left eye. I also believed I felt my brain bounce off both sides of my skull. When I landed, I rolled just in time to avoid Non coming down on top of me with his elbow pointed down, like Delph had once demonstrated. Instead of colliding with my neck, his bony arm hit the hard-packed dirt and he howled in pain and toppled forward on his belly. This time I did not let him get back up.

I tucked my hands inside the opening of the breastplate around his neck and pulled with all my strength. The breastplate came halfway off and did what I had intended it to do. It pinned his arms helplessly straight up in the air and his head was now inside the metal, so he was also blinded. I leapt up and came down on the back of the breastplate with both boots. Even though I was far smaller than he was, I still carried a big wallop when I struck. Non’s face was propelled not into the dirt but, instead, into the far harder metal of the breastplate. I did this four more times until I heard something crack and he screamed.

I jumped off him, grabbed the breastplate, pulled it completely off and coshed him on the head with it. There was a sound like a melon dropped from a great height hitting the dirt and Non became very still.