To The Slaughter - Part Three

I'm really crunched for time today. Got kids starting school soon, and I got a lot of these weird bumpy lines near the bottom that I don't know how to fix. Well, I know, but I need time to do it.

Still, didn't want to leave you with no story, so here's Part Three, wherein Ana faces her first opponent. Part One and Part Two are here.

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To the Slaughter - Part Three
By David Zaragoza and Dianna Zaragoza

“Hello…so you’re the blubberer from Fordwick.” Emeline’s expression looked almost sympathetic. “I see you’re in pretty poor shape. How about you drop that buckler and armor so you can attack me faster?”

“Because you'd kill me,” Ana sees through her scheme. “I don't want to die. I just want to go home.”

“As would I. But you see, I cannot unless you die. If you attempt to avert the inevitable, you will die either way.” She draws forth her rapier, pointing it at Ana with a cold stare. “What shall it be? Death by me, or death by the prince?”

Ana stands fast, sheathing her knife and gripping her shield. “No one will die this rise if I have any choices left to me!”

Ana charged forward into Emeline, her shield before her. Emeline stepped aside, swiping at Ana's side. Ana fell as her knees buckled under the pain, her shield sliding across the sandy concrete.

As Emeline stepped forward, Ana looked at her hand. A sizable amount of her blood stained her palm. Her eyes widened in fear. Was she going to die without a fair chance, like her father and brothers did?

“Where is your common sense, girl?” Emeline raises her rapier to make a final stab. “Don’t move. I’ll make this a lot quicker than the prince will.”

The crowd gasped as the blade thrusted down to finish its target.

To everyone's great surprise, a flash of bright metal deflected the blow with an incredible speed. Ana stood to her feet, faltering for a moment. In her bloodstained hand she held her gutting knife, a serious and focused expression on her face.

Emeline stepped back in shock, but repositioned herself. A series of quick, mindless slashes put Emeline on the edge, chipping off sections of her rapier. Ana knew this was her weapon's weakness - a rapier was not suited to blocking against brute force. The guard had told her that much.

“As long as you put the pressure on her and watch where she might counterattack, you can succeed.” His voice rose in her memory from her secret training.

Indeed, with every attack, Emeline’s rapier lost more of its edge, until soon a little stump of a blade remained. But that was still enough for Emeline to counter with.

She picked up a shield and tossed it in Ana's direction. The shield collided with her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. As she struggled for breath, Emeline charged forward with her dull stump of a blade.

Ana dodged just in time to miss the first swing, but got a cut cheek on the second swing.

Ana shouted and lunged forward as Emeline lunged at her as well. When they separated, Ana’s knife was lodged to the hilt in Emeline’s stomach.

As both girls struggled to regain their footing, the prince leaned forward on the edge of his seat. Reached for his weapon, laying on the ground nearby.

“Don’t wait too long, son.’

Ana regained her breath, but her side continued to bleed. Stepping towards her staggered opponent, she pulled the knife out of her stomach, a trail of blood and bile strewn in the air for a split second before dirtying the arena battleground. With all speed, she cut off pieces of her pant leg and undershirt, and formed a crude cloth bandage.

She pressed the cloth against Emeline's wound to stop the bleeding, bringing a groan to the girl’s lips. Beaded sweat rolls down her forehead. Pressing the pant cloth against it, she fastened it with the long strip she cut from her shirt. Emeline held her breath, and tried to stand, but fell once again to the ground.

“Finish me…”

“She needs a healer!” Ana screamed up to the royal box, to the guards near their entrance doors. No one moved. The crowd jeered and pointed fingers. She spun around in confusion. Was there no help, no mercy for either of them? Would no one step forward?

Emeline’s eyes lifted to meet Ana’s. Ana saw her pain and confusion, but there was no way she could kill her. Neither of them had asked for this. But what could she do, stuck between a chance at dying and unforgivable murder?

“It hurts…augh!”

A loud whizzing sound passed Ana’s ear. She looked in the direction of the sound, and saw the king and his son in the royal box, the son’s arm raised behind his bow. She turned to see Emeline quiver and fall crumpled to the ground, an arrow shot through her cranium.

As the crowd cheered at the prince’s incredible aim, Ana fell to her knees in shock. She knew that Emeline would have tried to kill her anyway, but this still seemed wrong. Or was she wrong to have let her suffer? The guards approached and took Ana back to her cell, her eyes never leaving the prince, who stood and left the royal box as she walked. “Phew, thank gourd that's done,” King Wyllis sighed as he eased off his chair. “Why did the little one let her suffer like that? It surprised me that you resorted to arrows.”

"Mercy is a quick death," the crown prince said. “Hmm...” The King mumbled something to his guards as the Slaughter-goers discussed amongst each other the outcome of the battle, and the official commentators screamed their approval or dismay through the many display screens around the stadium. A custard cup vendor shouted out to potential customers to purchase his goods.

“I might go purchase one myself. Then again, lunch should be in a few tics, so I might as well wait.” The King returned to his chair after the guards he spoke to left the spectator's balcony.

“By the way,” the King addresses the Prince, “Why did you spare the little one?”

“Am I not allowed preferences, Father? I thought her compassion quite moving.”

The king shrugged his shoulders. “Your choice is your own. If she continues to refuse to fight her opponent in the next battle, I might have her killed myself. We have basic standards to uphold. More than two saves, and the sponsors would complain…”

The Prince nodded, and bowed in acceptance of his father's words. His steady eyes followed Ana, as the guards dragged her in a heap from the arena

Part Four is coming!