Grey Eagle - Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

He was sitting on his bed, back against the wall, when they came in. He glanced up, then back to his pocket pal. He was in holo-sculpt, trying unsuccessfully to make a tree, but making some progress. Raach waited quietly for a moment, but Arion ignored him.

"Ta." Arion sighed, shut it off, and came. Raach looked him over silently, noting the blood on his clothes. He took hold of his wrists, and examined the one he'd cut. He rolled the hand over then and replaced the ring. "Begin now."

Arion eyed the laser on his belt, a new addition. "If I refuse, will you kill me?" he asked lightly, as if striking a bargain.

Raach smiled, mildly surprised, but apparently pleased. "With this? It does not kill."

Arion frowned. "It's a laser."

"No. It is a brotik. It is not as powerful as Sharsa's doorways, but it is portable."

"The doorways... How?"

"Have you ever seen ball lightning?"

"No. I know what it is."

"Same idea, but more controlled. It was this that stopped you before."

Arion nodded, not remembering, but understanding. However far he had gotten before, Raach was seeing to it that it couldn't happen twice.

"I'm quite pleased with it, actually. I plan to market them to the Rikshastika."

Arion looked up sharply, and his jaw set. Of course. They could wreak havoc with something like that. He sighed, collecting himself. "Why haven't you yet?"

"I'm still testing it."

He smiled angrily, shaking his head slightly. "I thought you just ate us. Since when do you study us, and..." He fell silent.

"Since before you were born. Enough. Begin now."

Arion turned his gaze to Reegat, standing still as he advanced, wondering where his limits were now that he had promised not to hurt him. He glanced over at Raach, and Reegat swung. He caught it on his forearm, and so the lesson began. When Arion did little more than block, Reegat first grew bold and careless, then ruthless.

Hard pressed, Arion kicked sideways, trying to drive him back. Reegat went down, and stayed there, writhing. Arion stared, horrified. Raach dashed to him, holding and checking him.

He rose then, coming down swiftly on Arion, knocking him off his feet and pinning him. He hit him once, then shook him. "Are you looking to die slowly?" he asked softly, viciously. "I can make it last longer than your worst nightmare. I don't even have to let you die." He hit him again, a clearly temporary and inadequate release for his rage.

Arion cowered, terrified. "Please, Raach," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. It was an accident."

"Idiot!" he growled, hitting him again. "You think you can get away with it, just like that?"

Arion shook his head and closed his eyes. He hadn't meant to hurt Reegat, but he had quite possibly killed him. "I didn't mean to. I thought he would block. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry..."

He opened his eyes and searched Raach's face, but found no forgiveness there. Raach hit him once more, then released him, returning to Reegat. He sat him up, and they talked together softly. He lifted him to his feet and guided him from the room.

Arion sat up, drawing himself into a ball, waiting for Raach's return. Reegat hadn't screamed, had even been able walk out, though Raach had helped him. That should mean he would be all right...

As if that would change what had happened. Oh, Aviel, I trust You for my soul, but I'm awful scared for the rest of me... The house grew dark and silent, and still Raach had not returned. Arion crept into bed, but was unable to sleep.

His breakfast came as usual the next morning, surprising him, but he had no appetite and left it. When Raach finally came, Arion stood up, waiting quietly, no choice. Raach stood over him, looking down at him with no expression. Finally he said, "You will die now. Do you wish a swift death, or would you prefer to go out fighting?"

Arion looked at him. He would welcome a swift death over what he felt he had coming, but he didn't believe the option existed. He had no heart to fight, and he wondered which choice would inspire Raach more. "How's Reegat?"

"Make your choice, Cedrychad."

"...I don't have any choices. You'll do what you want anyway. You tell me."

Raach was silent for a moment, then went to the bench and brought back the tool, unfastening Arion's leash. He dropped the tool on the bed, the leash on the floor. "Do you have a choice now?"

Arion stared at the leash, unprepared for the birth of hope. "I don't think so," he said softly. "I'm supposed to fight, right?"

"Right," and he knocked Arion across the room. Arion scrambled to his feet, startled, but ready now. Raach advanced slowly, calmly. "Do you think you can kill me, kyon?"

He hesitated, then smiled weakly. "Not by myself, no. But if God wants you dead, you will be." He sidled towards the door.

"Arrogant bastard," Raach growled, cutting him off. "Your god gave you up. Don't you know that by now?"

Arion shook his head with the same weak smile and moved the other way. He kicked sideways, trying to drive him back. Raach blocked, caught the foot and twisted, striking down across Arion's back as he fell. Arion rolled with the fall, twisting his foot free of the remaining hand, and scrambled to his feet.

They circled. Several times Arion tried to drive him back, just enough to get out the door, but each time Raach took what he had to give, returning it twofold.

Abruptly, Raach moved, attacking. Arion blocked as best he could, looking desperately for a chance to escape. Raach stepped up his attack, and with a sudden, confusing motion, had him pinned. "I could rip your throat out, Cedrychad," he said smiling, the ever present hate vivid in his eyes.

Arion's stomach rolled over, recognizing that the smile was intentional, displaying the cat-like fangs. He wanted to close his eyes, to shut it out, but his death was too near, too immediate... "I've killed better men than you," Raach said with disappointment, releasing him.

Arion rose slowly, feeling clumsy as his body floundered between the tension of fear and the weakness of relief. He searched Raach's eyes, but he had not relented. They circled.

He saw an opening at last, and bolted for the door. Raach pounced, a stunning blow, and threw him back into the center of the room. He rolled to his knees and groaned, realizing with chagrin that Raach had baited him.

He stood again and faced him. "What are we doing, Raach?" he demanded bitterly. "Cat and mouse? A little sport before you kill me?"

Raach didn't answer. Instead, he went and stood by the bed. "Come." Arion eyed the tool lying on the bed, the leash on the floor, knowing what he meant to do. He came slowly, then suddenly dove for the bed, somersaulting to his feet with tool in hand, and swung at Raach's head.

He blocked, but was unable to stop it completely, grunting under the weight of the blow. The side of his head was bleeding freely and Arion swung mightily with both desperation and startled hope.

Raach blocked again with the same arm, and Arion was almost certain he felt the bone give. A tremendous anger exploded within him as the blow followed through, forgotten fury blazing from within like a beast whose chain has snapped.

Then, nonsensically, Raach's other hand was on his throat, squeezing as Arion's arms drew back. An instant of contempt for the hand that couldn't choke him quickly enough fragmented as his feet left the floor. His equilibrium flailed for balance, and Raach slammed him against the wall, his head ringing.. and again before Raach lost his grip.

Arion fell onto the bed, dazed, the softness beneath a treacherous confusion as he struggled to gain his feet. Another blow against the back of his head drove him forward, then a sudden weight on his back between the shoulders pressed him down. Part of his mind understood that he was in serious trouble, but he couldn't organize his limbs to respond...

His eyes cleared, and Raach was refastening the leash. He struggled, but it was already too late. Raach was off of him and out of reach, seemingly in one fluid motion.

Arion turned, sliding off of the bed to sit on the floor, glaring at Raach with failed hate. What did it matter now if Raach's head was bleeding? What did it matter if his arm was broken or not?

It didn't. It was worthless.

"You will not hurt Reegat again," said Raach slowly, his voice low, hard and controlled. Arion said nothing. "To hurt him like that, so soon after your promise. I'm surprised."

"I didn't break my promise," he said coldly, defending what little dignity he had left. "I wasn't trying to hurt him. If I was trying, he'd be easy to kill." He drew breath for more, but words failed him, choked off by frustration, and he looked away.

"You could have killed him like that you know."

"I wish I had," he told the floor, "because I didn't mean to. I thought he would block."

"But he didn't." It was an accusation.

"No," he agreed sullenly, grudgingly remembering his position.

"Don't do it again."

"...No. I won't."

"You will apologize to Reegat."

"Yes."

"No more mistakes."

"No," he agreed softly, wondering how he was to ensure this.

Arion spent most of the next day listening to music and thinking, uncertain and depressed. You will die now... Why hadn't Raach killed him then? Twisting the cord around his hand, unraveling to twist again, he knew he had blown his chance.

God had touched him, a rare gift, telling him to trust. But he hadn't. Instead, he'd been half-hearted and cowardly until it was too late. He felt terribly small and weak, his strength and courage a myth that had passed away. Even when he'd gained the advantage, he had failed to make it count.

If he'd had more faith, could he have escaped?

With an incongruous shock, he recognized his admiration. He had thought himself well-trained - and as a pilot he was - but he couldn't begin to equal Raach's fighting ability, let alone his strength. Intelligent, powerful, fluid and graceful, Raach truly was a superb, beautiful creature.

He rose, pacing, ashamed that he could think that. And yet he was just an animal. No reason to hate, no need... It galled him to be subjugated by a mere animal, but his inadequacy was all too apparent, undeniable and unforgiving.

Still, quite clearly, God had protected him. Raach could have, surely should have killed him as he'd threatened. Despite all his failings, God was still looking after him, and in this he could trust; for this he must be grateful.

They came in the following evening, silent and solemn. Arion rose and looked briefly at Raach. He wore no dressing on his head, the cut clearly visible, and clearly not serious. He wore a jacket, but his arms were crossed before him, without any visible injury.

The disappointment Arion felt was as bitter as it was unexpected, but he had no time to dwell on it. Reegat came to stand before him, waiting expectantly.

"Reegat. I apologize," he said formally. In answer, Reegat swung, hitting him sharply in the stomach, bringing him to one knee. Clutching his stomach, he waited for more, but nothing happened. He rose slowly.

Reegat nodded. "We begin now." Arion blocked the next swing, not trying to strike back. He continued to block only, and they seemed satisfied, so he left it at that. Afraid to use force of any kind, Arion simply withdrew as Reegat pressed harder, resigning himself to anything he couldn't block or twist out of.

Again they seemed satisfied. Reegat did not become so ruthless as he had before, but neither was there any conversation save between Raach and Reegat. Arion accepted the silent reprisal and did not try to speak to them. The lesson ended and they left. Mechanical, Arion showered and went to bed.

The lessons quickly became routine and automatic, mindlessly endured. Lonely, bothered, and bored, he started looking for opportunities he could have used if he were allowed to retaliate.

He began baiting Reegat, reinforcing moves that left him open. Reegat might murder him eventually, but with any luck he would get himself killed when he went out to fight for real.