The Lady's Game (Completed)

11 - Spilt Blood

Chapter 11

I wake up at the crack of dawn out of habit and rub at the dry tears on my face. Walking over to the water basin on the wooden counter, I cup some water and splash my face; getting rid of my sleep as well as my nightmares with it. Feeling awake and refreshed, I sigh deeply and glance outside at the dark streets, catching the first glimpses of sunlight as it fights its way through the cracks of battered buildings and closed wooden shutters. I turn around and start to clean the kitchen; piling bowls an cups and wiping down the wooden tables. I scoop some water from the water barrel and notice that it's nearly empty; I'll have to fill it up at the fountain. Sighing, I grab two shawls to protect myself from the biting cold outside and grab the barrel by it's rough, wooden handle. I start to drag it outside and down the long, narrow road to the fountain, fighting the shivers that try to break out across my skin at the same time.

Upon arriving, my mood dampens further when I spot Eddie throwing a jagged pebble on a stone wall and catching it with one hand; doing it again and again with practised ease and a confidence that I envy. I debate wether to turn and go home nor stay, torn between the two, before Eddie decides.

'I know yer there,' he says, his eyes never leaving the pebble. I scowl and hold my head high before dragging the barrel with me and starting to fill it with water. I ignore his presence, concentrating on filling the barrel with more vigourness than needed.

'Stop actin' like a child,' he says from behind me.

'I'm not,' I respond hotly.

'Yes, yer are. Now turn 'round an' talk. Or are yer too scared?'

I spin around and march to his face, my expression a calm mask of anger. 'I,' I grit out firmly, 'Do. Not. Want. Anything. To. Do. With. You. Do I sound like a child now?'

Before he can respond, I spin back around and go back to filling the wooden barrel. Suddenly, a sharp pain shatters from the side of my neck and spreads to the rest of my body. I cry out in anger and pain before twisting around, fists clenched and a burning anger coursing through my veins.

'You'll regret that,' I hiss, rembering what I had learnt and sending my fist towards his cheek. Sleethly, like a panther, he twists to the left and grabs my fist in his larger ones. I try to pull back but his grasp doesn't lessen.

'Curse you,' I growl, sending my other fist to his exposed chest. He barely flinches, but a searing pain erupts in my fist. I keep my face impasive, but my flinch is evident.

'That all ya got?' he taunts. I growl in fustration and bring my leg up to push him away. I succeed and steps back, but instead of being angry like I want, or rather expect, his eyes shine with sheer determination.

What is wrong with him?

'Use yer legs! Yer elbows! Yer fists! Come on, Bess!' he cries, sending a blow to the side of my head. I try to dodge, but I'm too slow and his knuckles hit the edge of my temple. I grit my teeth against the pain and twist to face him. His second fist comes to hit my nose, but this time, I turn to the right and try to send my elbow to his turned face. It hits his jaw and his head snaps to the side, but he quickly recovers and turns to face me. Eddie sends his foot forwards and pushes me roughly, making me stumble and land painfully on my face. I bite my lip as I feel multiple bruises bloom across my skin and my back grazing against the cold stone. Shaking away the haze of pain, I get on my knees and then on my feet, but Eddie's there again and he pushes me back down. Letting out an angered noise, I bring my on feet up and push him backwards. He barely stumbles but I have time to jump up and send a fist to his nose. He quickly catches it and pushes my hand away.

By now I'm breathing hard and a trickle of blood slides down the side of my face. Barely noticing, I wipe it away with my eyes trained on Eddie's every move. I tense as his fist suddenly shoots out and hits just below my eyes, my fists too slow and sluggish to stop it. I grit my teeth and try to dodge as his next punch swings in, leaving me breathess for air as it hits my my abdomen. I bite my lip and straighten my back, exhaling slowly and becoming angry as all my movements are too slow; too weak. He sends a blow to my arm, and my anger spikes up again as a jarring pain courses through my arm.