Nasty Little Witchling

Red, his energy waning, launched another one of the winding punches he’d been throwing the whole fight. Green attempted to evade, but the blow still found its mark, the last knuckle grazing the side of his chin. Stumbling, Green retreated with his fists rising to shield his face again, eyes never leaving his opponent.

The crowd screamed and whistled, Barron Tiscar clapped and muttered words of encouragement to his fighter while the duke had his arms folded and lips skewed to the side.

I still winced at every blow, yet my heart cheered for Green since it seemed like he needed it most.

These fighters were the lightest of the weight groupings fighting in today’s events. As such, they looked to be taking blows directly onto their organs that were only shielded by a thin layer of skin and muscle. I would have been worried for them if not for the healers waiting outside the rings.

There were two other fights going on while the jackalopes were being led into their starting stalls at the beginning of the oval track.

Green swung with his own floundering strength into Red’s abdomen. With the added momentum from the twist of his body, he had Red on the ground, clutching at his stomach—an umpire and healer leaning over him a moment later.

The duke applauded enthusiastically with half the crowd while a collective groan rang out from the other, including Amir and his father.

“Maybe I should have taken that wager,” the duke commented. He didn’t get a response as both fighters shook hands and clapped each other on the back, not looking to be in any pain after the healers were finished with them but still breathing heavily.

“How are they shaking hands after that?” I asked.

“It’s about respect,” Amir said, leaning to speak into my ear. “They know what it’s like to take the hit they’re giving. They leave all the animosity on the field.”

“I’m not sure I’d be able to.”

My respect for the fighters deepened as I watched the next two fights end in a similar fashion.

“Madams, Sirs, all bets are now final. We’re all set to race and I hand over the start to the coordinator,” the announcer's voice echoed from below.

The jackalopes were all in their stalls, and the next rounds of fights were paused for the two-lap race. I perched on the edge of my seat to look down at the stalls, their anticipation feeding my own.

I’d been caught up in everyone else placing bets like it was a normal thing to do, not realising that if my choice lost, it would go to fund the place that I thought was torturing animals. My guilt was only slightly assuaged by the jackalopes' genuine excitement to be competing.

I sent over shallow feelings of encouragement to number 14, hoping not to spook or distract him right before the race started. The idea of confusing the other participants came to mind, telling them to wait or look to the side while running, but that was cruel.

Someone standing above the stalls brought two pieces of wood together to make a loud clack that signalled the opening of the stalls.

The jackalopes bolted out with the characteristic glint of silver from number 8, catapulting themself from the start line into a good lead over the rest.

The announcer agreed. “And they’re off. Silver in the eight off with a good start. Followed closely by Blur in the number two. Seven drawing up beside Blur—Oh!—Blur issues the day's first attack with Seven tumbling out of this race, Blur sacrificing second place with that move. Three taking advantage of the gap followed closely by Fourteen.”

My jar hung open after just watching one of the jackalopes spear another in the leg with their antlers. “Is that allowed?”

“Oh yeah,” Amir said, grinning. “It’s the whole reason why we race them.”

“Backmarker Nine, now three lengths behind as they move into the first corner,” the announcer continued. “Six tucking in behind Blur, who is contesting Fourteen for third. Silver takes a wide corner, giving space to Three and Fourteen to make up the length between them on the inside track.”

My jackalope wanted to catch up to the one ahead of them and poke him in the hind leg, but I warned them off and encouraged them to focus on taking advantage of Silver’s wide corners due to the injury.

“Blur contesting the front runners as we head back on the straight. Silver pulling away again by a half-length. The back of the pack is jostling for fifth place with one and twelve blocking off the—no, their antlers tangled. They trip up ten on their way down just before the front runners bank for the turn, four lengths ahead.

“Silver taking another wide, is this a new strategy to maintain speed into the straights? If it is, I have to say it’s not working. Three and Fourteen are caught up again, with Blur looking to take another stab at the competition. Ten getting up and taking over as backmarker, but his chance of a top finish is over.

“Fourteen taking a wide exit to avoid Blur as we go into the second lap. Three jumping around to do the same, increasing the gap from pole to a length. Fourteen looking to fill that gap as the struggle rages on.

“Silver still taking it wide, Fourteen cutting in front of Three and Blur. Six is making a play while those two are occupied. Back on the straight, Silver is pulling ahead, Fourteen right behind. Three drops back to avoid Blur, while Six jumps in during the confrontation to take third.”

I was on my feet, chanting in my head for my jackalope to go faster and ignore his want to poke Silver.

“Fourteen takes the inside, possible stab coming in to settle pole position on this final corner. No? Fourteen ignores Silver in favour of pulling ahead on the corner exit. Six, a half-length behind Blur, two lengths behind Silver—who’s dropped to second.

“Silver looking to tussle as he comes up alongside Fourteen on the final stretch. That telltale silver antler coated with the blood of many past amateurs who looked to take his prize. Blur joins in on Fourteen’s inside. Pincered from both sides now—Fourteen jumps!—now on Silver’s outside, making up the space his jump gave away while Blur and Silver stumble, realising their prey has escaped.

“Here comes the final line, Silver struggling to regain his speed, Blur in a better position to close the gap. And…it’s a three-way finish between them. What a race! We’ll have to wait for the official score but to avoid leaving you in suspense. From where I’m sitting, that was a clear victory for…Fourteen, Blur in second, and Silver with the worst finish of the year in third.”

I smacked my hands together, aiming to clap louder than everyone else, only taking a break to put my fingers up to my lips and add a whistle to the cacophony of noise and cheer before clapping again. Most of the balcony was clapping as well but gave me amused looks when I whistled again.

A moment later, the official result displayed on a large sign didn’t contest what the announcer had said. I sat back down with a shaky breath and heated cheeks, embarrassed at the stares my display of excitement gathered from the balcony.

“Well, I’m now down an oddsmaker if you’re looking for a job,” Baron Tiscar said to me and sighed. “Consider the payout a signing bonus.”

The round of laughter that followed along with congratulations made my cheeks grow redder.

“Oh rubbish, you know how much roe that upset is going to net us?” Baron Olivihier said with a chuckle. “We’re going to get accused of tampering—again.”

“I think the twelve thousand you now owe Janette and Valeria are going to put a dent in that net,” the duke said, grinning like it was his own win.

“I’m sure they’ll be good sports and give us some more opportunities to win it back,” Baron Tiscar said. “Right, ladies?”

I smiled sheepishly. “Maybe not.”

“You can give my share to Valeria,” Janette added with a toothy smile. “I don’t have much interest in betting.”

I wasn’t too interested either, especially in the rest of the rounds of fighting. So, I retreated into the sitting room before the Hound Chase started. I planned to get the hungry hunting dogs waiting below to not chase the hare but didn’t want to see what would happen if their hunger won out.

It helped that they knew they’d be fed after if they didn’t manage the catch.

I could have made even more roe with the 2:1 odds on the usual coin toss event between the hare escaping or being torn to bits. But already felt wrong for placing a wager on an event that had sent jackalopes to the healers.

The duke was right that they were healed right away. However, the doll didn’t require any healing, and I still considered that wrong.

The sound from outside was only slightly muffled from the sofa I took up residence on with a plate full of berries. Opposite me was the mother with the young girl also taking refuge.

“She doesn’t like the poor bunny getting chased,” the mother said and leaned across the table to shake hands. “Henriette Olivihier, and this little one is Isla.”

“Valeria.” I smiled as she moved Isla’s hand side to side to resemble a wave while the girl was occupied with some cake.

“Do you mind watching her while I go to the lavatory?”

“Ah, not at all,” I said and was then left with big blue eyes staring at me. “Hello.”

She blinked at me in response, and I was left unsure of how to interact with the youngest person I’d ever met.

“How…old are you, Isla?” She held up five fingers.

“You like bunnies?” She nodded.

“Huh.”

I looked around for any support, but everyone else was watching the fights. In doing so, I dropped one of the berries off my plate but flicked it up with a bit of mana and caught it in my mouth as it came back down.

A giggle from the opposite couch had me glace at Isla, who apparently thought my mistake was the funniest thing.

I flicked another berry into the air and stared at her while exaggerating my chomp around the falling fruit, another round of giggles setting my heart aflutter.

Repeating the same thing didn’t get as much amusement as before, so I had to scale it up if I wanted to keep hearing the little girl laugh.

It got to the point where I was struggling to lift the entire plate full of berries in a swarm above me as I made them dodge my attempts to chomp them out of the air.

I was midway through one of those, with my jaw wide open, as Henriette snuck up behind the girl with the biggest grin on her face and a tear trail along her powdered cheek.

She looked over at her partner, and all the berries dropped out of the air when I realised a lot of the balcony had been watching me. I leant down to manually pick up the berries and let my hair fall to shield me from the smiling faces.

I was still trying to decide if my actions had been humiliating or endearing when I sat back up and sunk into the couch. Those on the balcony were turned back to the arena and had been smiling at Isla’s giggles, so I told myself it was the latter while feeling dizzy from the mana use.

Henriette was sitting next to Isla again, dabbing under her eye with a napkin. “Sorry, we just don’t get to hear her voice too often.”

“Oh? How come?”

Henriette shrugged. “All the healers say she’s perfectly fine; she just doesn’t want to talk yet. So, thank you for getting her to laugh.”

“Mhm,” I hummed, unsure what to say.

I sat and waited a while until I thought neither had looked at me for long enough so that it was fine to grab one of the colourful drinks and escape outside. The door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against the wall next to one of the two knights standing guard outside.

“Not going well?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

I let out a long breath and tipped my head back to drink most of the glass. “Just need a break. Not used to talking so much.”

She nodded and let me sip the rest of my drink in silence.

The door opened again, Baron Hasting walking out and looking from side to side. “Did you see where—ah, do you mind if we go somewhere to speak?”

The Baron was staring directly at me while I was in the middle of my last sip, so there was sadly no chance she meant one of the knights. I glanced over at them to see pity in their eyes but smirks playing across their lips.

“Umm, no?” I followed behind the swish of her orange skirt down the hallway. She stopped at the corner without a door nearby and looked each way.

“You’re Valeria?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m not here to scare you, just Julia is just fine,” she said. “You’re from Ulasa.”

That hadn’t sounded like a question. “Yes…your sister kindly let me live with her for a little while.”

“Not long enough, according to her. I got a letter about you and wasn’t sure what to believe with Pilim accusing the duke’s daughter of kidnapping, but it seems to be true, at least in part.”

“Are they angry with me?”

“What?” she said. “Not at all. They’re terribly worried about what happened to you. Their third letter made me come over here to directly ask the duke about you on their behalf. I had no idea I’d find the girl in question.”

I lifted the glass to take another sip and give myself time to think, but there were only drops left. “You don’t care about the…”

She glanced down each hallway again. “They didn’t mention…that, but I heard what happened and connected some dots. I’d imagine the duke is aware? Is he treating you well? I’ll smack him around if not.”

“Yes, they know,” I said. “I’m staying in the guest room of the palace, so I think I’m being treated overly well.”

She sighed. “That’s good…I’ll let them know they don’t need to worry. And…I hope you and the duke know what you’re doing. I’ve already had two accusations in my barony after the execution in Ulasa and arrests for other incidents. Do you mind if I speak with him about you?”

I shook my head.

“Okay, thank you for talking with me,” she said as someone came down the hallway.

“Wait,” I said, without properly thinking through what I wanted to say. “I…umm…won some money today. I know Trissa wanted to go to the city. Maybe I could help with that?”

Julia snorted and started chuckling. “You think money is an issue for me? No, no. It’s my sister making sure her kids don’t have a chance to repeat what she faced in the city years ago.”

“It doesn’t seem that bad?” Besides the crime and animal torture

“She had a bad time as a non-mage in an old noble family. Her perspective is a little skewed, but I’ll pass it along to Trissa and see if that adds an extra thorn in her ass to convince her mother.”

“And tell them ‘thank you’ for me, please. I never got the chance to.”

“I will,” she said and walked back towards the sitting room.

I leaned against the wall, needing that break far more than I had before. Writing to them had come to mind many times but had always been too anxiety-inducing to think about for more than a brief moment. I was glad to have made the offer, even if I didn’t think it would go anywhere.

My head was a complete mess, and I tried to drink from an empty glass for the second time. I stayed against the wall a while longer until one of the knights came to check where I had gone and escorted me back to the sitting room.

I sat back down next to Amir and stole the last pastry from the plate balancing on his one leg. They’d finished the Hound Chase, with the dogs not feeling up to the task, and the next weight class for the typical fights. Two mages now occupied the grassy field, slowly circling each other.

The man tangled an arrow spell together and flung it at his opponent, who carefully made a small shield to block the twirling projectile about to hit her ankle.

“It’s all about finesse,” Amir said, bouncing his free leg and threatening to topple the plate. “Madam Edros is able to cast the smallest, most precise shield in the whole duchy, while Garov can get his mana arrows to flick all around her within a second. What these two do is pure artistry.”

“You have a lot of roe on this one, don't you?”

“No!” He stood up to the collective gasp of the crowd, and I caught the plate before it could hit the ground. Out on the field, the pooling patch of blood forming on Madam Edros’ shoulder meant Garov had got one of his spells to connect.

The bout still went on with the Madam flinging her own arrow back without nearly as many feints and twirls to land on Garov’s larger hazy shield.

“They’re supposed to draw,” Amir said, slumping back into his chair.

They did end up drawing, but caused Amir a lot of stress from the multiple scored hits. I was assured the hits were shallower than usual, and it didn’t look to impede either until they both ran out of mana so the match could end and the healers could see to them.

I didn’t have much interest in the rest of the weight groups and mana classes for the fights that went on as efficiently as the staff could manage.

During one of the mage fights, someone dropped down into the arena and ran across it, screaming that mana wasn’t real and holding a sign to the same effect. He got just as much cheer as some of the events before a spell tangled his legs up, and the staff dragged him off.

Mages went on to set up a more overgrown arena where different kinds of animals were released to find a scented object. Each had their nose to the ground, and I knew which would find it the moment I saw them all. If I’d been able to see them before the bets closed I’d have been able to give Amir a proper answer when he asked for suggestions instead of speculation.

His father did help him avoid one that had their sense of smell overwhelmed before being released, perks of knowing the owner. It did have me confused about how they were even allowed to bet on their own events.

The lights flooding the arena could have had me convinced that the sky wasn’t pitch black. There was an intermission before the main event, but I was too anxious to take advantage of the table refilled with food. The cold evening convinced me there had been a serious oversight in Haily not giving me a coat, but I didn’t overly mind the chill and said as much when Amir offered me his jacket.

The extra foliage remained as a group was introduced while walking—and trotting—onto the field.

“All the way from the front lines of the capital, please welcome the Galloping Striders,” the announcer said.

“Can you get them to stop using battlefield terms for the capital?” the duke asked across the balcony to the owners. “It always riles people up for no reason.”

I was sure the barons heard, but Tiscar cupped a hand to his ear to suggest otherwise.

The centaur walking onto the grass caught my attention as the announcer carried on.

“From the eastern plains of Ghardi, launching arrows that might as well be from a ballista, Nickolas…From the northern forests of our elven neighbours, wielding spells mightier than the sword, Aisling…Having grown up on these very streets, our returning champions, Dyana and Petrick. Here to show us how their spear and shield teamwork brought them many amazing pieces from the capital that will be available at the Drasda Auction House next rest day.”

“Will you be joining us for that, Vince?” Baron Olivihier shouted over the cheer of the crowd.

The duke cupped a hand over his ear and raised his eyebrows at the barron.

The bow Nickolas used was the same recurve Instructor Daniels had me practising, which made a lot of sense as to why he wanted me to use it for horseback. Despite the range the bow provided he was still well armoured on his human torso and had similar plating and gambison-like material covering his hind like the knights’ horses.

The elf was already showing off her skills by having flowers grow at her bare feet that sank into the long grass. It wasn’t a spell since she held her hands behind her back without a single thread of mana occupying them. At the end of her walk, a bundle of the flowers was thrown into the crowd, a sea of hands reaching for them.

The two humans were dressed in chainmail and plating, similar to the remnants. Petrick held a shield almost bigger than himself and only a short sword hanging from his waist as a means of attack. As the announcer said, the spear sticking out over Diana’s shoulder looked to be making up for that.

It was my turn to bounce my leg as the announcer moved on to the first round of animals they would be fighting for our entertainment.