Deathbringer

CHAPTER 3

Standing at roll-call the next morning, Beatrix was surprised she was even still alive. The other recruits didn't like her, with the exception of Laurel. Beatrix still wasn't sure why Laurel appeared to have taken a fancy to her, but she wasn't about to complain. Having the most powerful new recruit on her side was definitely an asset she could use right now. Besides, Laurel seemed to know the inside scoop on just about everyone.

"You don't need to worry about Fenris and Helen." She assured Beatrix in a hushed whisper as they lined up with everyone else. "They're from rival towns, so they'll be too busy fighting each other to be a danger to you." Sure enough, the unkempt boy and the beautiful girl that she'd met last night were once again snarling at one another. "You know what vampires and werewolves are like when they get near each other."

Beatrix shook her head. "No, I really don't, and I'm happy to never find out."

Laurel grinned. "Well they're at each other's throats twenty-four/seven, being rival species and all. But I've seen millions of them in my time and I can guarantee that ninety percent of them have underlying sexual tension."

Beatrix choked. "I really did not need to know that."

Laurel scoffed. "Oh don't be such a prude." She gave her a side-ways glance. "I think it's quite adorable to watch. Like enemies-to-lovers, only in really life."

"You really need to get a hobby."

"Gossiping is my hobby."

"And a damn useful one it is too. For me, at least." She grinned at Laurel. "So what about the others? Let me guess, more sexual tension?"

"Ha! No. At least," Laurel corrected herself. "Not that I know of. And I know a lot."

"Damn right you do."

"As far as I know, there's nothing interesting to know about Rakash." She admitted. "He's a troll, which means zero personality, zero interest in making friends, and zero tolerance for bullshit."

"To be fair, you also have a zero tolerance for bullshit."

Laurel gave her a look.

"That face just proved my point."

Laurel grinned. "This is why we're friends. You put me in my place."

"We've known each other for a day."

"And look how good you've gotten already."

They paused in their banter as Galdur appeared at the end of the hall. There was a collective hush.

"Welcome new recruits." He didn't bother to shout, but his voice carried nonetheless, and there was no doubt that every person in the hall could hear him. "Welcome to your new life. Here is the hand-to-hand combat instructor to give you some words of advice before you begin you training." Another man stepped out from behind Galdur.

"He's a troll." Laurel whispered helpfully.

"As Galdur said, welcome to the Shadowland." The instructor paused. "This whole ordeal may seem new and scary to you." There was a collective muttering of agreement. "Tough shit."

There was a shocked silence.

"You aren't here to be babied and ushered gently into your new life. This is an army. You are here to be trained. Grow some balls or get out now."

With that, he stepped back and said nothing more.

Laurel gave a low whistle. "Some instructor. That guy's like a ruthless machine."

Beatrix could only agree. She was expected to learn under a guy like that? He'd eat her for breakfast. No way was she going to be able to keep up with whatever training he threw at them.

"Look at our luck." Laurel lamented. She pointed up at the training schedule pinned high on the wall. "We're with him first thing."

Beatrix looked up at the schedule. The first slot read 'Hand-to-hand combat—Instructor Maalik.'

"Of course he's a troll. Because being scary isn't enough. He has to be downright dangerous too."

Laurel gave her a funny look. "Everyone here's dangerous."

"You know what I mean."

"Not really." Laurel shrugged. "But it doesn't matter. Come on, let's go get some breakfast before Rakash gets it all. Trolls have a killer appetite."

                                                                                                ***

Clearly no imagination had gone into designing the combat arena. Beatrix had hoped for some high-tech place where they would practice punches on punching bags before heading into the ring. She'd never been in a combat arena but that's what she imagined it to be like.

Instead there was only a chalk circle, about twenty metres wide. That was it. No punching bag. Not even boxing gloves. Just the circle on the ground.

"Do you see this ring?" Instructor Maalik shouted.

This seemed like a rhetorical question. Obviously they saw the ring.

"Do you see," He repeated. "This ring?"

There was a mumbled reply that yes, they saw the ring. Beatrix wondered if this was what combat lessons were going to be like from then on. Rhetorical questions that weren't so rhetorical. Maybe this class wouldn't be the death of her after all, with a teacher like that.

And then Instructor Maalik dashed her hopes to the ground. "You are all going to fight one another in that ring," He told them. "Until you are all competent fighters."

"That's it?" Laurel muttered. "I didn't even need to come to this class. I can fight perfectly fine."

"I will be the judge of that, pixie!"

Laurel jumped. "Damn it," She mumbled. "Trolls have perfect hearing. I forgot."

"Which means I can still hear you now!"

Laurel took the hint and shut up.

Instructor Maalik pulled a scroll out from behind him—Beatrix didn't want to know where he'd been keeping that—and unrolled it, pinning it to the wall behind him. "This is who you will each be fighting over the next week. Make note of who you're up against and prepare." He turned to them. "Unfortunately, I have been instructed that throwing you all into an arena to fight each other is a little bit too violent and dangerous, so I have to teach you the basics first. That is what we'll be doing today."

They were placed into pairs to practice. Beatrix was paired up with Laurel. Hopefully Laurel would go easy on her while she was learning.

For the rest of the lesson, she alternately dodged perfectly placed blows from Laurel and attempted—emphasis on the attempted—to place some punches of her own. None of which landed.

"Put some weight behind your punches!" Instructor Maalik called as he paced the room. Beatrix was fairly sure nobody was listening to his advice, because none of it was actually of any use. Put weight behind her punches? She was stick thin. She didn't have any weight. "Aim for their weak spots! You there! Try using more jabs and less swings!"

Laurel dodged her poor excuse of a punch. "This is so pointless. We're just throwing punches at one another. How is this helping?"

"The only way you'll learn is by doing, pixie!"

"My name is Laurel," She grumbled. "Not pixie."

"You'll earn the right to a name when you earn my respect pixie!"

She rolled her eyes at Beatrix. "Come on. Throw a punch at me, Trix. A good one this time."

Beatrix swung her fist, to no avail. "I can't! I'm too weak!"

"I don't teach weak students!" Instructor Maalik yelled. "The only way you'll learn is by trying, over and over again! If believe you're weak, then that's all you will be!"

Beatrix huffed. "There is no way I'm going to survive in that ring."