Hanna felt her heart beat loudly in her chest. Her palms were soaked in sweat and everything on her body felt itchy and slightly out of place. Her nails felt too long, and she thought she might have a small pebble in her left shoe. She guessed it was her body’s way of telling her it wanted more control of the situation, but it was a really effective distraction. It continually got in the way of what she needed to think about, which was what she could do to keep from being humiliated again.
She didn’t fear for her safety, at least not with so many witnesses. It surprised her how much her pride seemed to matter to her. Why did she care if she was beaten again? She had zero training and the smug fuck in front of her probably had a lifetime’s worth. But it was something inside of her that demanded retribution, something that refused to go down once again.
So she pushed all distractions away and tried to prepare herself. She had absolutely no experience of using a sword or a shield. Before the gap in her memory, the only times she had seen either of them was at museums or medieval-fairs. The only remotely relevant knowledge she had was the basic understanding of combat she had gotten from boxing and Wing Chun. That meant she knew how to generate force by shifting the weight of your body, and it meant she knew how to guard herself by redirecting the angle of incoming blows. That was it, that pretty much summed up all her applicable knowledge.
As she held the sword in her hand and felt its weight, she realized that swinging it around would be quite different from fighting bare handed. It wasn’t very heavy, but it at least weighed a kilo or two. That meant that it would be harder to accelerate, and it would also be harder to change its direction. She tried to play out a few strikes in her mind, trying to determine what might be feasible. It felt pretty futile, without actually trying it she couldn’t really tell what would work or not. With a mental sight she realized that she would simply have to wing it.
Throwing a look at Birgitta she realized she must have zoned out pretty hard, because she seemed to have been talking for a while. Not much that could be done about that now though.
“Ok” said Birgitta. “Now that everyone knows what to do I’m not going to hold you up any longer. Get to it!”
Fuck, thought the girl. She looked around in search for some clue to what they should be doing. All around her everyone had begun to aimlessly approach their partners, weapons in hand. It seemed most were a little hesitant to suddenly go about striking each other. Of course, this did not include the bloodthirsty asshole that she had gotten paired up with. Hanna had turned towards Muddy to see if she knew what they were supposed to do, but all she could see was a wooden shield speeding towards her.
A moment later the air left her lungs and her feet were no longer touching the ground. It felt like she fell for ages before she hit the ground. The mud and the hay did a decent job of absorbing the impact, so it didn’t hurt too much. What really bothered her was the satisfied face Mud-girl made as she looked down on her for the second time in as many days.
“No lazing about, this is not your naptime!” Shouted Birgitta, and Hanna felt that the words were aimed at her. So she pushed herself up again, and noticed that she wasn’t hurting anywhere. That was something at least. Muddy had backed off after her tackle, and she was looking increasingly annoyed by how easily she had gotten up again. They were both standing up now, slowly circling each other. Circling your opponent had been a mainstay in all the books and movies of Hanna’s life before the gap. It felt really silly as she walked around in a circle, but it seemed like a natural thing to do in the situation. She kept her eyes peeled on her opponent. The cheating bastard would not be catching her unaware again.
The tackle from before had done a good job of removing some of her nervousness, now she felt a lot more focused. She studied Muddy’s posture, looking for any signs of her springing into action. It came a quarter of a circle later. Muddy took a quick step forward, effectively eating up most of the distance between them. She stabbed with her sword towards the lower part of Hanna’s stomach. Hanna was waiting for her but wasn’t sure how much that would help her. In Wing Chun her guard would be up, and she would then lower and twist her arm to avoid any damage. That applied to someone not stabbing you with a sword, so it wasn’t really applicable. Plus the fact that neither her sword nor her shield was anywhere near where she needed them to be. Not having many options she stepped back, hoping to avoid the reach of her opponents sword.
It sort of worked. The tip of the sword struck her square in her stomach. It hurt, but it didn’t knock her over like before. More importantly, the blunted tip hadn’t pierced her through. For a fraction of a second she stood there, a bit bent over, reeling in the rush of the moment. From the corner of her eye she could see Mud-girl raise her sword to strike again. Like hell you will, thought the girl. Taking advantage of her bent down position, she resolved to put all she had in an uppercut. Adding the strength of her legs and her back, she slammed her shielded hand into the exposed ribcage of her opponent. The way her arm was strapped to the shield meant that she hit her with the rim of the shield.
For a brief moment everything seemed to grind to a halt, and she imagined that she saw surprise in Muddy’s eyes. Then a loud crack echoed over the square. The shield exploded into splinters as the force of the blow lifted her opponent from the ground. Hanna’s mind was screaming in happiness, and she felt like walking over and dropping a one-line like in a movie. She didn’t do it though.
As Muddy hit the ground, everyone stopped what they were doing. Everywhere around her, people were looking accusingly at her. All of them were whispering amongst each other. Some of the voices were lauder than others.
“Did you see that? Fucking freak!” someone said. Hanna didn’t catch the speaker.
“She punched her off the ground, that’s not normal!”
Hanna spun around, looking for the instigator. It turned out to be Muddy’s female minion, the one that had been there when she had been stabbed. Hanna felt her anger raise up. Blood was pulsing in her forehead and she practically growled at her. Say one more fucking word, I dare you.
The minion saw her anger and gave out a yelp. “She is coming for me now, help me!” she screamed. Hanna rolled her eyes. A second later the air left her lungs. Something hit her hard in the back, as she bent over trying to get some of her breath back she saw that it was a shield that someone had thrown. The pain wasn’t too bad, she just wasn’t expecting the blow.
“Get away from her, ghoul!” said the one who had thrown his shield. It was the second of Muddy’s minions, the male one. Hanna didn’t get slur, maybe it was some local insult? It certainly had put a frenzy in the villagers. Now pretty much everyone was talking animatedly while staring at her.
Birgitta chose this moment to step forward. “Alright, that’s enough” she said. Everyone turned towards her. Behind her was Mud-girl. She was on her knees with a puddle of puke in front of her. She looked miserable and had plenty of vomit around her mouth. That’s something at least, thought the girl.
“Hanna!” Birgitta snapped, with a furious tone in her voice. “Did I not explicitly tell you guys to take it easy and focus on the fundamentals?”
Hanna didn’t respond. She hadn’t heard any instructions. Birgitta frowned at her silence. They locked eyes for a couple of seconds, until Birgitta flashed her a menacing smile.
“That’s it everyone, practice is over!” She said, and the teenagers begrudgingly shuffled off to return the equipment. Mud-girl limped away with the help of her two sidekicks. Hanna begun to leave as well when Birgitta stopped her. “You obviously have to stay and explain yourself Hanna”, she said.
Hanna felt herself swallow. “There really isn’t much to say” she said. “She tackled me before I was ready and I was feeling pretty vengeful.”
Birgitta cut her off. “Thanks, but I saw that. I don’t give a fuck about your pitiful teenage-rivalry. Tell me how you managed to punch her hard enough to splinter the shield.”
Hanna was not expecting that to be the problem. “Uh, I don’t know, I just struck as hard as I could” was her eloquent answer.
“What sort of combat training have you done before you got here?” Birgitta said with furrowed brows.
“Nothing really.” Hanna answered, before she remembered that her Boxing and Wing Chun probably counted. “I have practiced a little unarmed fighting, but that’s it”.
Birgitta was obviously not satisfied with her answer. She looked her over, and even went around her as she did so. Then she put her hand on her biceps and squeezed. The hand could almost reach the whole way around her arm, and the squeeze she gave did not meet much resistance. Birgitta sneered at this, before she put her hands on both sides of Hanna’s hips and lifted her up. She didn’t even look strained as she did so. Birgitta had a disappointed look as she put her down again. “You are no longer a reservist” she said.
The sentence struck Hanna hard. She hadn’t even completed a full day of practice, but she felt a strong desire to learn how to fight. She could tell herself that it was because she needed to learn how to fend for herself, but that wasn’t it. There was a strange allure to a tool that was exclusively made for violence, and it harmonized with something deep inside her that longed for conflict and bloodshed. The way that all that had been taken away from her made her furious. It felt so unfair, what she had done was nothing compared to what Birgitta’s own daughter had done.
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Her increasing fury came to a halt when she heard Birgitta chuckle. “Stop it with the evil-eyes girl. I’m practically doing you a favour”, she said. “The whole reservist circus is more or less a way for us to babysit the too active portions of the village’s youths. Her insulting the thing she desired didn’t really placate Hanna’s feelings.
“You are getting something better in return”, she continued. “From now on, you will be training with me”.
Hanna blinked. This was a turn she hadn’t expected. After having seen the woman in action earlier, she knew that it wouldn’t be easy. But at the same time her pulse was already raising to the challenge. She knew she wanted this. “I will make time for you every morning except weekends. You will show up, and you will do it on time. Is that clear?”
“Yes Birgitta.” Hanna answered, before her curiosity got the better of her. “Why me though? What’s so special about me?” She added.
Birgitta had an evil smile. “That’s what we are going to find out” she said.
The girl walked away from the practice field with a lot on her mind. She knew she was different compared to before the gap but seeing the scared and angry faces of the others made it a lot more real. The way they looked at her made her feel truly set apart from them. Maybe living isolated on a mountain didn’t foster people into accepting outsiders, but they had seemed almost fervent in their anger. It made the girl rethink staying in the village. In the two days she had stayed here she had been stabbed and managed to alienate a good part of the village. It wasn’t exactly a match made in heaven.
“Hanna”, Olof said with a slight sadness to his voice. He was standing by one of the buildings around the practice field. He had obviously been waiting for her, which warmed the girl’s heart a little. At least Björn and Olof wasn’t as hostile as the rest of them. But he shot her feeling down with a disappointed look. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what? Fucking defend myself?” She answered with a sullen tone. She had been hoping for some comfort, not more hostility.
Olof seemed annoyed. “There is a pretty big difference between defending yourself and almost killing someone”, he said accusingly.
“Fuck off” she said in return and gave him the finger before walking away. His confused appearance told her that her gesture wasn’t understood, but at least he didn’t try following her. She snuck a glance over her shoulder when she thought that he wasn’t looking. He was still standing where she left him, looking her way and scratching the back of his head. She walked around the nearest corner just to get him out of her view before she stopped. What now? She thought. She still hadn’t been assigned a place to sleep so maybe she should try and fix that. Not that she remembered where the village elders were.
She toyed with the idea of asking Björn for help, but she didn’t want to risk another person looking at her like she was a freak. She stood there aimlessly raking her mind for a better idea until it hit her. She was going to get absolutely shitfaced.
Her sense of direction being what it was, she had to ask for directions. The one who helped her was an old man hanging some laundry. By the third time she asked with a loud voice where the pub was, she understood that the problem wasn’t the volume of her voice but the words that was used. Once she threw in some charades and blurted some random words for alcohol he finally understood her. Apparently, the correct term was Alehouse.
The alehouse wasn’t as empty as she had imagined, given that it was still in the middle of the day. It was about the same size as the house of the elders. In front of the building was a small open square that sort of reminded her of the practice field, minus the hay. The only entrance to it was through a gap between two houses. As she passed the gap she realized that it was where she had been stabbed yesterday. It felt like ages ago.
The square was littered with tables which were all more or less occupied. Everyone seemed to be eating the same thing, some grilled meat and mashed potatoes. The smell of it set her stomach grumbling, and it kept doing so even as she stepped into the relative darkness of the alehouse’s interior.
The only one that she could find inside was the barkeep. He was surprisingly young for his profession, probably around her own age. His hair was an unappealing mix of grey and brown, and over his lip was a short and well-kept moustache that only barely did more good than bad. Their eyes met and he seemed to look somewhat intrigued. It was hard to tell if it was the way she looked or if it was her being a stranger, but she had definitely caught his eye.
Hanna walked up to the bar and leaned against it. Since he was doing the same their faces got a bit closer than she had intended, but it gave the moment a slightly electric feel that was sort of pleasant. So she kept her face where it was and studied the guy. His eyes were a mix of grey and blue, and his nose was ever so slightly bent to the right. It was hard to put it into words, but his face had something about it. Nothing in it was special on its own but put together the sum was definitely greater than its parts.
The electricity between them still lingered and the silence grew. He was smiling slightly, and she realized that she was doing the same.
“So, I take it that you are the new girl?” he said.
She winced. Maybe going to the pub wasn’t the best idea if she wanted to leave stuff behind her. “Uh… yeah”, was what she managed to say in response.
My fantastic… it’s talk, she thought, feeling like Andy Dwyer. The guy looked at her, apparently waiting for more.
“So… What can I get you?” He asked when nothing more followed.
Shit, she thought, as his question made her realize that she didn’t have any money. “I just realized that I don’t have any money”.
The barkeep blinked a few times as he heard this. “And yet here you are, placing an order?”
Hanna’s stomach answered the question for her. “I guess so” she said. “Can I get a credit or something? Or do you guys need help with anything?”
The guy seemed to be toying with an idea. His smile grew as he did so. “Sure, I have a thing. Follow my lead”, he said with a mischievous look, walking out to the square where everyone was eating and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Listen up folks!” He shouted, and everyone turned around as he did so. “Two free meals to anyone who can best my friend! Only two coins a try!”
What the fuck? Thought Hanna. She could almost feel it on her skin as everyone in the courtyard sized her up. This was not what I imagined.
“What’s the game?” Asked a young man with his fist full of meat.
“Arm-wrestling!” Was the barkeeps answer. It made everyone burst out in laughter.
“I’ll take it!” Said the man from before, quickly finishing off the meat that he was holding. The barkeep led her over to the man’s table with a hand on her back. She couldn’t quite tell if it was meant as moral support or as insistence, which annoyed her a lot. What made it worse was the warm feeling his touch put in her body. They cleared the table and she sat down.
The young meat-eater put his arm on the table and offered his hand for her to grab. It wasn’t until she raised her eyebrows theatrically high that he remembered to wipe the abundant grease from is palm. He rolled his eyes and used his pants as a napkin. It didn’t seem to do much of a difference, but Hanna let it be and grabbed his hand. It was slightly bigger than hers and it was still greasy. The barkeep fished around for anyone willing to bet on the outcome before he announced the start.
The young meat-eater must have been certain of his victory, because he wasn’t trying to push her down. Hanna on the other hand had been quite worried and therefore gone all out from the start. Put together, it explained why his fist had slammed into the table almost immediately. He had a pained look as he massaged his hand, and he seemed quite confused as to what had happened. As the barkeep proclaimed her the winner while waving her hand above her head, it seemed the rest of the crowd shared the meat-eaters confusion. Hanna was smiling smugly, obviously happy that her newfound strength finally did her some good. There was a discontented murmur among the crowd that continually grew until one of them slammed his table.
“Damnit Åke!” He shouted. Judging by the annoyed tone he had probably just lost some money. “Okay, I’ll fix this!” he said, waiving towards the barkeep. He in turn didn’t look at all surprised. After having shuffled some people around to free up the space, Hanna was seated in front of her new opponent. The new challenger had a thin moustache that hung from the corners of his mouth, giving him an unwashed look. At least his hands are clean, Hanna thought as they prepared for the bout.
She tried gauging his strength by looking at his arms, but his baggy clothes made it impossible. Her own arms felt like they were brimming with power. It was a strange feeling, not knowing how strong you were. Judging by how much more she had carried compared to Björn and Olof it was clear that she was strong. But she had been far from her limit then and she felt eager to try her wings.
Lucky for her, this man had learned from his friend’s mistake and tried his best from the start. The girl did the opposite this time, feeling a lot more confident after her previous win. As she felt the man struggle it was obvious that he was strong. But with a bubbling sensation in her stomach the girl realized that she was more than his equal.
She began to slowly push harder, and the man desperately tried to catch up. His face grew redder as he fought, but his hand moved ever closer to the table. Wanting to finish with bravado, Hanna pushed her hardest for a second, and the man’s resistance instantly caved in. The scene from the first match repeated itself as the man’s hand loudly slammed into the table. The onlookers sat quiet in disbelief as the barkeep took her for a victory lap between the tables.
“Any more challengers?” He asked as he finished collecting money from them. When no one showed any interest, he thanked them and returned inside. The girl followed him in. Outside a loud discussion erupted.
“55… 56”, said the barkeep as he finished counting the money. “I took the risk and came up with the plan…” He said and paused to do some internal discussions. “I’d say that this is more or less fair”. He then pushed about half of the money towards her.
The coins were a metallic grey and of an almost uniform size. As far as the girl could tell they were all the same. She counted them and got it to 25. It didn’t really seem fair to her, but it was a lot more then she had before so she didn’t argue. “How much for a meal and a beer?” She asked.
“A meal and a what?” was his reply. He had a teasing tone to his smile, as if he knew damned well what she meant. When she clarified that a beer was pretty much the same as an ale, he told her that the meal was four coins and the “beer” would cost her a single coin. As she began picking the coins out he offered her a package deal, 25 coins for two meals, a room to sleep in and all the ale she could drink.
The girl thought it over and figured that it sounded like an OK deal. Not that she had any way of comparing prices. By looking at the barkeeps smug face it was obvious that it wasn’t by accident that the amount he had offered her was the exact total of her earnings. Cheeky bastard, she thought as she pushed the coins back to him. We’ll see how smug you look when I’ve finished drinking.