Thanks so much, Dave12y! I appreciate the compliment.
I'm getting excited about some things in the upcoming chapters of the story, and have finished chapter 12 already. So...onward!
Chapter 12
With each passing week, less time was spent in the field and more was spent in the practice yard. Tim always looked forward to his training; he thought he was progressing quite nicely. Ileeya, as time went on, grew more irritable. She would snap at the two of them often and didn't bother to hide her frustrated sighs. At first Tim shrugged off her outbursts, understanding it must be difficult to train others to fight well in such a short amount of time.
One day, Ileeya exploded. "You're not listening to me! How many times have we gone over this? Over and over and
over again and you're still making the same mistakes. The Grand Tournament is only six weeks away and if you two go in there waving your swords around like you're trying to swat groxils, then you're likely to die - very quickly!"
She turned her back on the two stupefied men who could only stare open mouthed at her departure. Ileeya stormed over to a wooden bench several feet away and sat down, hands tangled in her hair. She was clearly frustrated.
The first emotion Tim felt after the initial shock wore off was anger. But confusion followed quickly behind as he replayed her outburst in his head. What was she talking about? He approached her to find out.
"Ileeya."
She didn't answer.
"Ileeya," he said a bit louder.
A myriad of emotions took control of her features as she looked up at him. He saw anger, fear...regret. Silence hung in the air so long he wondered if she would speak. Finally, she did.
"Tim. I know you and Gylen are trying your best, but it's just not good enough. The Grand Tournament is closing in on us fast and you guys have to give it your best and more." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "We don't use practice weapons in the Grand Tournament; we use real ones. Real edges, real points, real metal. Real blood. There is no mercy in the Tournament. For the residents here, most of the entertainment is in watching their favorite fighters best a new competitor. I consider you and Gylen friends of mine; and I don't like to lose friends."
It felt as if someone had sucked all the air out of his body and was now crushing his chest, constricting his breathing. All the thoughts he had prior to this confrontation ceased to exist and were now replaced by fear for his life.
Real weapons? He thought they were strictly for entertainment, but then again, look at the people he was dealing with. Entertainment for these beasts was watching slaves die at the hands of another. Barbarians, all of them! No wonder they had to search for slaves. They killed them off every year. Except the ones who were good. Their reward was to live for another year.
He could very well die in less than two months at the hand of some sword swinging creature in front of thousands of cheering, screaming fans. His name was not known here - no one was on his side. He's the new competitor to challenge some champion and favorite of the crowd. Perhaps he'll be lucky and fight another new competitor. Perhaps he'll be lucky and live. But if he won, it would be because he killed another. Could he do that? Could he actually shove his sword through some other creature?
And then there's Ileeya. Oh sweet God, no. He could lose her. She could be killed. He just found her, and he could lose her just as easily. She didn't know he loved her, of course, but...the thought of losing her became too much. He suddenly became violently ill. He vomited in the sand at his feet.
He heaved until his sides ached, then stood and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. His legs felt rubbery, and he wondered if they would hold him. He looked into Ileeya's pain stricken eyes, fighting another wave of nausea.
"Tim...,"
"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" he barely managed a whisper.
"I thought if I told you sooner you would lose your focus. I didn't want that hanging over your head when you had new skills to learn."
"And just when were you planning on sharing this privileged information with me?"
"I'm really sorry, Tim. Perhaps it would be best if we discussed this later."
"I think we should discuss this now!"
"Tim, please calm down. There's no need to cause a scene."
"Cause a scene?! You tell me I could very well die in six weeks and you worry about me causing a scene?! And what about you? Aren't you worried for your own safety? Why are you so damn calm about this?"
Gylen put a hand on Tim's shoulder. Tim shrugged away, whirling around to face him. "You knew about this, too?"
He could tell by Gylen's expression that he had indeed known. "Some friends you two turned out to be."
He stalked angrily across the practice yard until he came to the brick wall. There he stood for several minutes, hyperventilating. Aark appeared behind him and mumbled something about taking Tim back to his cell because he was sick. Tim did not protest.
Tim spent the next few hours sitting in a stupor, trying to sort out his feelings. He was furious, he felt he had been betrayed, and he was scared beyond belief. He hated Ileeya for not telling him sooner, for not thinking he was man enough to handle it. But he loved her for caring enough to wait, sparing him the anguish. If he were in her place, what would he have done? If she had come right out and told him from the very beginning, would he have been able to gain the necessary skills to survive? By waiting, she had ensured that he at least had a chance. He had practiced hard and had learned much. Hopefully enough to survive.
The door was opened then and Ileeya came in.
"You missed your meal."
"I'm not hungry."
"I see you're still angry with me."
Tim said nothing.
"Look, Tim, I'm really sorry. I know I should have told you sooner, but I didn't want to scare you."
Tim snorted derisively and stared at his feet.
"I've been here for ten years, Tim. Ten long years. I didn't have anyone to hold my hand and teach me the language. No one to answer my questions. I've seen friends die. You don't think I'm scared? I made the best decision I could under the circumstances. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."
Neither of them spoke for the rest of the night. When the dried meat was put inside, neither of them moved to eat it. And after a couple of hours, they each got up and settled into their beds for the night. Despite all the emotions flowing through him, Tim fell asleep within seconds.
The next day, fortunately enough, was a field day. Tim was glad for the mindless work. He didn't think he could face Ileeya in the practice yard today. Not after what happened yesterday. The plants had grown lush and had produced their fruit, despite the lack of rain. Some of the plants were ready to be harvested, marking the near end of the growing season.
The heat, as usual, was almost unbearable. Tim began to wonder if this place had any other season besides scorching hot summer. He stopped for a moment to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. His gaze shifted immediately to where Jondak was staring at him with anything but friendliness. Tim frowned and stared back at Jondak. One of the guards ordered them back to work. Tim complied, stealing another quick glance at Jondak. Jondak continued to stare, smiling now. The guard yelled again, this time in Jondak's direction. He looked casually at the guard before starting back to work.
~*~*~*~*~*
There he was. Tim. What a stupid name. So this was his competition. Jondak couldn't understand how this guy could possibly get in the way, but yet, he was. He was an okay looking guy, if you liked the big lout type. He seemed to show an intense liking for Ileeya. That bothered Jondak. A lot. He had been trying for the last four years, ever since he first laid eyes on her, to make her his. So far, all his advances had been politely refused; which had the tendency to frustrate him. He was used to getting what he wanted. He had to force himself to be patient. He knew the day would come when he would have her.
Now, with Tim's arrival, this hope seemed, at best, impossible. He saw the way Tim looked at her. And he knew she had some feelings for him, as well. Hatred sprung up deep within Jondak those first few weeks. But then Shirra came along. She said it was okay. She told him if he did just what she told him to do, then Ileeya would finally be his and he wouldn't have to worry about Tim. In fact, he wanted to eliminate Tim personally. Shirra promised this as well, as soon as she had finished using the human.
Shirra also told, no,
showed Jondak what would happen to him if he didn't do her bidding. Horrid nightmares plagued Jondak's mind when he tried to sleep. For three straight nights he saw lurid visions of himself being eaten alive by demons while Shirra laughed at him.
In his nightmares he was defenseless - his arms and legs pinned by unseen forces. He watched as the demons slowly devoured his body, and his soul was trapped in hell, forcing him into a torturous existence for all eternity, devoid of any relief.
As a reminder of his pact with her, he had to suffer the nightmare at least once a week. But it wasn't just a nightmare. It really happened. He was there. He could see the demons learing at him. He could feel his immobilized limbs struggling to move. He could hear Shirra's laughter, starting like silvery bells ringing in the distance and building to a deafening crescendo that he felt in every pore of his body. He could smell the stench of hell, the stench of death. He could taste the blood of his bitten tongue as his screams were cut short.
There was no question as to whether or not he would do Shirra's bidding. He simply had to wait until she told him when to act, hoping to please her so she would lessen his torture. For now he would have to be content to keep Tim unnerved. It seemed to be working so far. Jondak enjoyed watching him sweat. He couldn't wait to really get into action.
