Cedar Turtle
An Old Maker Story
Lander McFall Kerbey
Copyright 2011 by Lander McFall Kerbey
Smashwords Edition
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1
The punch connected, sending a spasm of pain through the body. The man shuddered, took a step back and tried to regain focus, but his vision blackened at the edges as another wrapped fist hit a rib. He fell and lay there, trying to retain consciousness.
A woman stood over him as the crowd hollered and hissed. Arguments broke out amongst people standing around the pit. She waited for a fight to break out, but none did; she extended a hand to the dazed man in the dirt.
“Come on Rebin, get up,” she said. Her muscular, sweat-soaked arm tightened as she clasped his uncertain hand and lifted the much larger man under her own strength. “No wonder you're slower than usual, you're getting fat.”
“Or you gettin' flastum.” Rebin struggled to move his jaw through his overwhelming numbness. After shaking his head, some of the light returned to his eyes and he steadied himself. “There's no point fightin' you anymore, Lirvi. I end up a mess every time.”
The woman gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, retracting her hand quickly when he winced away from it. The crowd around the pit was starting to disperse, and she led the big man to the small stairway portal with slow steps and a gentle touch.
“Well, I'll tell you what,” she said as they climbed the steps. “I'll stop beating on you, but when I take on Psaruk, you better be watching.”
“Hah, you keep talking, woman. The day you bring him down is the day I get in the pit and sing a song for the crowd,” he grumbled, spitting into the nearby wall.
“I'll remember you said that.” Lirvi smiled, stepping away from him as they reached the main floor. The men received them coolly, largely ignoring Rebin as he pushed his way through them to the exit, frowning and glaring at the woman before them. She quickly turned her back to them and walked to the worn table across the room, where a rough-faced man counted out coins into separate piles. He looked up at Lirvi in silence, then scooped up one of the smallest piles, dumped it in a small cloth and wrapped it up.
“Where's the big guy?” he asked, peering past her.
“Went on ahead, I think he's too dazed to remember his share. I'll take it to him.”