Kings Game

Chapter 9 - The living storm (7)

"Oh no..." Nul groaned and dropped their head into their hands.

"What's wrong?" asked Roran, "Why did she stop?"

Below them, they heard Kell snarl and launch her spear into the air. It whistled across the arena at blinding speeds. The spear caught Kameron mid jump, piercing through her and lodging into the building beside her.

Crying out pain, the pinned champion struggled against the spear but it was lodged deep into the stone. She started flailing against the spear but it just caused her more pain and made matters worse.

Sighing, Nul said, "He actually managed to piss her off."

"By calling her Kellsinora?"

"Don't get comfortable saying that name," said Nul. "Kell hates it with a passion."

"Saying her name pissed her off?" asked Roran. "I don't understand."

"You don't need to. The important thing is that Barron knew how to piss off Kell, and now he has."

Down in the arena, Kell clenched her fists hard enough that her knuckles popped. Slowly, deliberately, Kell started making her way back to Barron.

Having just watched Kell snipe Kameron from halfway across the arena, Barron took a few steps back and lowered his voice when he said, "No need to get so pissy, you know I was just talking shit."

"You like going knuckle to knuckle, right?" said Kell, rolling her neck from side to side. "I prefer a spear for its reach, but I can respect a fist fight."

"You honestly think you can beat me, unarmed?" said Barron, trying to puff out his chest and display a little bravado.

"I honestly don't know," said Kell, "But I'm willing to find out."

She lunged, leaping down on Barron. Barron ducked out of the way, avoiding her. Kell followed up with a couple of quick strikes. Barron blocked them both and backed away. Kell pressed him, punching and kicking harder and harder with every strike.

She threw two more punches, Barron blocked the first but the second landed on his ribs. Striking back, Barron swung at Kell's stomach and face. Kell blocked the blow to her midriff, but Barron's steel clad fist dashed across her chin. Ignoring the pain, Kell spit out blood and lashed out with a savage kick, planting it straight in Barron's stomach. The brawler staggered back but squared up again, ready for another round. Kell dove at him, whipping herself into a snarling maelstrom of kicks and punches.

Despite Kell's onslaught, Barron's experience in hand to hand combat gave him the edge. For every strike Kell landed, he landed two. For every kick Kell landed, Barron landed one of his own. Kell started slowing down. Blood dripped from her lips and her temple. Still, she refused to back down. With her teeth bared and death in her eyes, Kell dove at Barron.

Barron grabbed Kell's wrists and twisted her around, wrapping an arm around her neck and pinning her against his body. With a deft hand, he drew a dagger and held it close to Kell's neck, forcing her to go still.

"You got sloppy," said Barron, panting and wheezing. Despite his expertise, Kell had landed enough blows to leave him sore and tired. "You never should have challenged me to a fist fight."

Kell swallowed a mouthful of blood and said, "You never should have mentioned my aunt."

She twisted, attempting to break free from the chokehold. Barron cried out in surprise and stabbed with his knife, not willing to let his foe get away unscathed. The knife bit into Kell, stabbing deep into her bicep. Kell snarled and struggled harder, breaking free from Barron with the knife still lodged in her arm.

Licking her lips, Kell said, "You shouldn't have given me a weapon."

Grabbing the handle, Kell pulled the knife free from her bicep and hunkered down into a fighting pose.

"You can't be serious," said Barron. "Do you ever stop?"

"Not so long as I live."

Barron shook his head and squared up again. Kell lunged again, but this time she took the advantage, punching and stabbing and slicing and kicking. Barron was forced to focus on the knife blows, keeping the edge away from his skin while Kell slipped blows in to hammer his stomach and ribs and face. Barron began to falter, his foot slipped and Kell snuck the knife past his guard to slice open his arm.

Barron staggered and snarled. He threw a hard swing that Kell sidestepped with ease. The punch flew past her into a wall that cracked from the blow. Kell kneed Barron in the ribs and sent him tumbling to the ground, a panting, bloody mess.

"Well," said Kell, looking down at him, "You did manage to distract me, I'll give you that. Not that it matters."

She looked up to see Kameron still trying to get off her spear. Kameron had bent the pole into a loop trying to break it, but the wood was flexible and snapped back the moment she let go. The other champions were still keeping each other distracted, giving Kell a moment to breathe.

"I hate you," said Barron.

"I've been getting a lot of that today. Is someone paying people to gang up on me again?"

"We used to be friends," said Barron, ignoring her question.

"Yeah, until you became a psychopathic weirdo that didn't care if he was fighting people or servants or slaves. You're sick Barron."

"You're just jealous," said Barron, dragging himself back to his feet.

Kell rolled her eyes. "I give up," she said, her voice flat. "Go back to your little girlfriend. At least she's crazy enough to love you. Too bad one of you will be dead by tonight."

"I'll kill that bitch, and you too!" said Barron, his words starting to slur together. "I loved her and she tried to kill me, now the whole world will watch me kill her, with the King's blessing no less."

"Whatever," said Kell, turning away. "I don't care anymore. You're not worth my time."

"And you're not worth the air you breathe!" said Barron, stumbling toward her. "You're a dumb bitch. You should have died in the Crucible...no, you should have died in a ditch... no wait," a slow grin spread across Barron's face, his teeth red with blood. "You should have died in the cellar, drowning in your own feces."

Without another word, Kell took two steps towards Barron. Striking with the speed of a viper, Kell kicked Barron's leg out from under him. As he fell, she grabbed his head and slammed it downwards, bouncing it off the stone roof the way a child bounces a ball off the street.

Barron fell down, limp and bloody. Then, Kell raised her fist and brought it down on the roof again and again, each blow cracking the stone. The cracks grew and spread until the roof sagged. Then, raising her foot as high as she could, she stomped down, shattering the roof and sending Barron down in a rain of debris and dust.