Chapter 305: New Opponent.

Chapter 305: Chapter 305: New Opponent.

Just as Montrel had predicted, it has gotten bloody.

Gandy seems to be the worst for it, and does not for the life of him seem to understand how.

​"Khobi, the fuck you playing at?" Gandy growls, spitting out a mouthful of blood and jabbing his sword at Binny, who, despite being the filthiest of the three of them, barely has a scratch on him, "You better not be going easy on him!"

​"He is fucking slippery, okay?" Khobi grinds out, seeming just as bemused as Binny slips just beyond reach for what must be well over the millionth time.

​"Whoa!" Binny yelps, diving out of the way as Gandy turns on him and aims a swing at his legs.

He is back on his feet in a flash, and even though he is holding up his hands in surrender, there is a definite twinkle of a laugh dancing around in his eyes.

"Hey! What gives? We are on the same team!"

​"So why am I the only one taking a beating out here?" Gandy heaves, abandoning his chase of Khobi to try and take this servant down a peg or two.

​"Have you tried not getting hit?" he advises, then promptly yelps as Gandy aims a cheap shot at his shins at the same time as Khobi tries to leap on him from behind.

How he had seen him coming from such an angle is impossible to say, but he dances neatly out of harm’s way at the last instant, causing Khobi and Gandy to plough straight into each other in dramatic fashion.

Khobi’s sword goes flying out of his hand, and Gandy loses his boot in the process.

​The watching soldiers erupt into raucous laughter, beating on the fence and braying as Gandy and Khobi grapple in the mud for purchase.

​"Nice one kid," Montrel hollers, and Binny spares a moment to flash a grin their way.

Xena claps along in delight, and with a look of alarm he immediately drops into a bow as he recognises her.

It is a good thing, too.

The boot Gandy had just hurled at him sails harmlessly over his head.

​"That was wonderful!" she chirps excitedly, thrilled by it all as the watching soldiers hoot and jeer in turn, jostling Khobi and Gandy as they strop their way out of the ring.

They are positively filthy but they looked like they were having such fun. "Is it always like this?"

​"Pretty much," Montrel shrugs with a small, sheepish grin.

"Everyone gets pretty into it."

​"Even Loac?" She can’t help but ask, because she has to know.

​"Who, Loac?" he queries, raising an eyebrow, "Yeah, I do not know what has gotten into him, to be honest.

Come to think of it, it is actually a real pain, as he and Khobi always hog the damn ring and do not let anyone else get a round in.

We cannot keep them off each other."

Something seems to occur to him as he says that, and whatever it is makes him snicker.

​"It sounds like they are getting along," Xena says with relief.

While she doesn’t think there is anything particularly funny about what she said, Montrel lets out a snort of laughter as he concedes, "You could say that."

Xena wonders what it is that she is missing, and whether or not it has anything to do with the smile she had caught her cousin trying to hide earlier, the one that had made her wonder if secretly men like to be told they are pretty sometimes, too.

​"Ah," she hums, turning to address Vogrid as though something has just occurred to her, "That is right! You used to be quite the swordsman yourself, didn’t you My Lord?" Vogrid’s expression pinches as he adjusts his glasses.

​"You could say that."

​"That is it!" Montrel says suddenly, like something has just clicked for him.

"You are the one who taught Binny how to fight, aren’t you?" He doesn’t wait for Vogrid to confirm or deny.

"Ah, it makes so much sense now. It was so long ago, but he was always hanging around you when you guys were kids, wasn’t he? That totally explains how he is so good."

​"Nonsense," Vogrid scoffs, tone condescending and an expression of irritation fanning across his face, "As if that is all there is to it."

He spares a glance for the ring, where Binny has retrieved Gandy’s boot for him in an effort to make amends and is currently edging towards him with it outstretched in one hand like one might approach a particularly unfriendly cat.

For a moment there, his eyes seem to soften.

"I might have given him the skills, but anything more was always up to him."

​It has been such a long time since Xena has heard Vogrid talk like that, but she has little time to wonder at his words because that is when her cousin abruptly leaps into the ring, boots kicking up mud as he lands.

Intrigued, she immediately lets go of Montrel’s arm to press up against the fence.

She had secretly been hoping that she would get the chance to see him fight Khobi again, to witness up close this change that Montrel had hinted at.

But Loac’s opponent today isn’t Khobi. It is Rogard.

...

It’s somewhat surreal, that moment Rogard lands in the ring.

​Because after all this time it’s finally here; his chance to redeem himself for all those losses and all those years spent chasing and falling short.

That he’s not just empty words.

​His ankle feels as though it had never been injured.

That’s good.

​Loac doesn’t look surprised to see him, like maybe on some level he’s been waiting, too.

​(That’s good, too.)

​Rogard draws his sword first.

He doesn’t bother telling him that this won’t be like last time.

He’s said that enough that to say it again now would be meaningless.

​This time he’s going to prove it.

​He’s not sure why Vogrid and Xena are here, but it feels fitting that they are.

They were there back then. And they only ever saw him lose.

​The wind picks up.

It’s the type that stings as it keens low and mournful as it blows across the training grounds, but Rogard barely feels it; gaze fixed firmly on the shape set against the grey sky, familiar and at the same time completely foreign.

It’s been so long since they’ve faced each other like this. Since they were kids, in fact; when Loac laughed like he was weightless and they both cried when they lost.

But they’re not kids anymore.

And Rogard’s determined that he won’t be the one crying.

​Not this time.