Chapter 12: Champion Carnival! Jeane vs. Rakel
Morning
Jeane’s heart pounded loudly in her chest. For several moments, she thought it was because of the fact that she was standing in the pit at Bordeaux yet again, exchanging blows with the boxer called Rakel. But on second thought, as much as she hated to admit it, she wasn’t even giving her full attention to the bout.
Why then, this erratic heartbeat, if she was so confident of defeating Rakel?
It was because she was so
close.
Only in recent months had she been defeated by Clare. She was glad of it – she would have rather lost to Clare than any other warrior. Yet since those months, she had caught up with the others at an amazing pace. If she could defeat Rakel – and it looked very likely – she would have to fulfil her contract against Noelle – the first truly formidable foe she had faced during this Champion Carnival. In effect, she would be at the same milestone as Clare, who would be fighting Noelle’s counterpart, Sophia.
Although Helen and Deneve were no longer with them on the Carnival circuit, Jeane had to admit that it was wonderful to stand on equal footing again, to fight side-by-side with Clare, until they could reach Irene.
I’m sorry, Rakel. But I have no time to waste on you! she thought, her fist sending Rakel flying across the pit. Her rival sprawled on the ground painfully, then lay silent.
She didn’t even run over to ensure her defeat. She thrust her fist up in triumph.
Now… onto Noelle.
But to her surprise, the roars of support were muted – in fact, no one roared as loudly as she would have expected; they gave half-hearted cheers, and most politely clapped, giving strained smiles.
She looked around. Am I in the wrong Coliseum? she thought wryly.
The usual patrons were here. She even recognized some of their faces. But fewer of them shouted, fewer of them yelled, and even fewer of them mocked the fallen Rakel, who had slipped into unconsciousness. And as pleased as Jeane was with this welcome change, she was also rather puzzled.
Interesting, she thought, with a hint of amused curiosity.
What happened between you and Flora yesterday that subdued this crowd so, Clare?
*
Clare stood outside Rabona Academy with Flora. After Flora had recovered slightly from her almost fatal injuries, Clare had taken her to Rabona, where she had spent the night in a lodge there. Had she not known Teresa was waiting for her back at their cottage beyond the hills, Clare would have gladly spent the evening with the schoolteacher, who still seemed rather fragile and vulnerable after leaving Bordeaux.
Now, the morning sun shone on the old roof of the Academy, and it was time for Flora to return home.
Dressed in a mellow, beige blouse with sandals that exposed her feet, Flora had mounted her horse, and she was looking fondly down at the younger woman. “I will never forget the kindness you have shown me, Clare,” she said. “Promise me we will see each other again. You may come to Pieta, or I may return to Rabona. But no matter what happens, let our reunion be a joyful one.”
“I will never forget you either, Flora.” Clare’s eyes shone. “But… what of Hilda? What of Miria?”
“I believe the children at my school will enjoy her company and guidance. I will convince the headmaster to give Hilda a post as a… physical education teacher, perhaps. After all, she did found Pieta Academy, and its demise is… no fault of hers. And as for Miria… ” she suddenly smiled, and gave Clare a playful wink. “Once the Champion Carnival is over, I will recommend to her an Academy whose star boxer I admire very much.”
Clare blinked. “Which Academy would that be?”
Flora laughed again, her voice like a singing angel. “Why, yours, silly dear.”
Clare felt a pit of embarrassment open in her stomach. “Ra – Rabona?”
“Expect a new application within a few months,” said Flora, still smiling in amusement. She stroked the mane of her horse, and her steed whinnied contentedly at the touch of her silken hands and legs. “My husband and I will be waiting for you. We await your final victory against Irene. And when you have become the Featherweight Continental Champion…” her eyes shone. “Please grace our household with your presence. I look forward to welcoming you.”
“Your… your faith in me… is misplaced,” sputtered Clare. “I can’t possibly live up to you or your expectations – ”
Flora shook her head. “I believe in your strength,” she said. “I do not know you as well as Hilda or Miria, but I do not need to. From hereon, your victory will be my victory. Your joy will be my joy.” She lightly patted her horse, and it obediently turned to the south. “I will not say goodbye, Clare. For I hope that we will see one another again, very soon.”
“Flora,” murmured Clare. “I will come to you, when I’ve won. I promise. Until then… I’ll never forget why I’m fighting. I will make you proud.”
Satisfied, Flora raised her hand, giving a gentle wave, before turning her back to Clare. Her horse snorted and began to amble towards the direction of Pieta. The sun shone ever more brightly, and it seemed that the morning larks were singing louder.
Clare quickly rubbed at her eyes, disciplining them, as Flora’s retreating form slowly grew smaller and smaller.
I’m so glad to have met you.
She was so miserable that Flora had now departed, that she didn’t notice Galatea opening the door and stepping outside the gym. Cynthia had been inside, training since dawn. Apparently, a brief rest was in order.
Their boxing teacher walked over to stand beside Clare. “You’ve become quite a strong warrior since you first knocked on my door, kid,” she muttered.
“I wish to test myself against Sophia and Irene before I claim that honour,” replied Clare, looking away.
“No. That’s not what I meant.” Clare turned looked back into Galatea’s eyes, surprised. “I was watching you,” said Galatea, “yesterday, when you fought Flora. I must have missed something when Flora came to Rabona the other day – you must have become good friends. And you still beat her so? Your resolve… is admirable, to say the least.”
“Well – ” Clare nodded. “Yes. Yes, we became friends. She’s so kind, so brave. She’s like Jeane. I might have beaten her, but her reasons for boxing… ” she raised her head to the blue, cloudless sky. “I just feel like such a lowlife for taking away her dreams.”
Galatea’s voice was serious. “Am I hurting you, Clare?”
Clare started, looking at her coach uncomfortably. “What? I – ”
“First Jeane, now Flora. That’s two opponents whom you regret fighting. It didn’t take me long to work that out,” she added. “I understand my boxers better than anyone, even if you came here relatively recently. And while I have no problem believing that you can crush Sophia if your will is there, I am considering my own wisdom in having put you through so many unhelpful trials, all the way up to Irene.”
“Irene…?” Clare blinked. “What does she have to do with this?”
Galatea raised an eyebrow. “She once fought Teresa. And lost badly. Despite this, Teresa publicly praised her, claiming Irene to the heir of bare-knuckle boxing. I don’t know how Irene would take that compliment, but it does hint that they treated each other quite honourably, yes?” She paused. “Would you see her the same way you see Jeane and Flora…?”
“She… she is the Continental Champion,” murmured Clare. “I have no choice but to defeat her. You need this victory, and I need this victory. Besides, I doubt I’ll meet her before the match. Well, I hope not,” she continued, giving a small, sarcastic smile. Galatea nodded in response, although her face looked far too hesitant to be convinced. Appearing rather guilty, she retreated back into the Academy to continue overseeing Cynthia’s training, closing the door behind her.
Clare sighed and sat down on the grass, looking up at the sky.
I would hate to hurt someone I knew and understood. Jeane and Flora proved that to me, at too high a cost. But that… is the curse of pit-fighting, I guess.
Will I… end up admiring Irene, too, Teresa?
*
Afternoon
Inside the halled interior of the massive Academy at Sutafu, Noelle and Sophia stood before Irene as the Continental Champion, garbed in an ebony dress, leaned on the marble balcony, surveying the gentle, setting sun that bathed the forest surrounding the Academy. “It seems the Champion Carnival has filtered out two strong opponents for us,” said Irene, her slanted eyes contemplative. “Their names were…?”
“Miss Clare and Miss Jeane, Mistress Irene,” answered Sophia promptly, in her boxer’s uniform yet again. “Miss Clare defeated Flora yesterday, and only today, Jeane trounced Rakel, the final opponent before Miss Noelle and I.”
“I took you ladies under my wing, and you became two of Sutafu’s greatest boxers. Tomorrow and the day after that, you will fight for me, in my name as usual. Sophia. I will have you duel Clare, as specified in the contract, and I will have Noelle box Jeane the day after tomorrow. Gauge their skill, their strength, their potential. And if one – or both – of you lose, I will accept their challenge as the final event of this Carnival.”
“Unlikely,” growled Noelle, cracking her neck and stroking back her short, tomboyish hair. She also wore a boxer’s outfit, although it was considerably more unkempt than Sophia’s. “I’ll break Jeane’s face before she even makes a move on me. And Sophia can easily defeat Clare – but I wouldn’t be surprised if she stuffs up and fails you, Irene,” she added, laughing.
“Shut your mouth,” snapped Sophia, losing her feminine demeanour. “I will not let Miss Clare to get past me. This pathetic new generation of so-called ‘boxers’ will not topple us, the students of Sutafu Academy. Self-proclaimed warriors from Rabona, Pieta, Darene, and all the other cities are the same – filthy, backwater scum who have no respect for the tradition of real bare knuckle boxing – ”
“Silence, both of you,” said Irene quietly, and the two women not only stopped talking, they ceased to move at all. “I will not have such venom spat in Sutafu’s sacred halls. Especially not bickering between you two. You, who are the elite foot-soldiers of this Academy.” She waved her hand. “Prepare yourselves. That is all. Now leave me.”
Still grumbling at each other, Sophia and Noelle left Irene to her thoughts.
The Featherweight Continental Champion’s cold eyes narrowed as the sun continued to dip deeper and deeper below the west, making the horizon glow.
Perhaps it would be a good idea to personally attend Sophia and Noelle’s matches, just to acquaint myself with my possible challengers.
That they have come this far, to come up against my students at Sutafu, is amazing to say the least.
Teresa… could it be that you had a hand in training either of them? Perhaps you know one of the two, or both?
Well. I’ll simply have to find out tomorrow.