Ferals

Alessia POV The Grand Melee

King Henry raises his arms, the crowd grows quiet eagerly awaiting the King’s speech and the start of the melee. “Eighty years ago, when our forefathers emerged from the bunker, they found themselves in a harsh new world. A world where danger lurks in every shadow. Being descendants of warriors from The Great War, they faced this new world with courage and a fighting spirit. They decided to reinstate the army, to protect us all from the savage Ferals that inhabit the land, and thus the tradition of the Proving was born. Today we continue, and honor that tradition. Before us is the brave young sons of our Kingdom, ready to Prove their bravery and desire to defend us all against any threat may come upon us. Let us celebrate their courage.” He pulls his sword from his scabbard and raises it high overhead, as he drops it in front of him, he shouts, “Begin!”

The crowd roars as the men in the arena charge to the center. I spot Jenkins as he circles to the outside. Smart, don’t get drug into the center, let them take each other out. Give yourself room to fight. I encourage him silently. Unfortunately, a few other men have the same idea. I hold my breath as a man charges at Jenkins, he sees him and holds his ground. Just as the man lunges for him, Jenkins steps to the side, drops to the ground and sweeps the mans legs out from under him. He leaps onto the fallen mans back and repeatedly bashes his head into the arena floor. The man looses consciousness, Jenkins jumps to his feet and looks for his next target. One of the runners from the sidelines slinks in and pulls the unconscious man from the arena. I release the breath I was holding and try to relax, Jenkins knows what he’s doing. About an hour later, ten men are left standing, sides heaving, sweat and blood dripping off of them, as the runners clear the bodies and those that conceded limp or crawl from the arena. Jenkins stands tall and proud among them. He flashes his killer smile to the crowd, when his eyes find mine, he winks and throws me a nod. I smile in return. The men take their victory lap and exit the arena, the next group of fifty enters to take their place. King Henry raises his sword and the second round begins.

Jenkins makes his way through the crowd and joins me at my perch on the stone wall surrounding the arena. “Pretty impressive huh?” he bumps my shoulder with his.

“Yeah, that big farm boy got you pretty good didn’t he?” I tease as I gingerly run a finger under the small cut on his right cheekbone. “It was an impressive left hook. I didn’t think you would let some dirt farmer actually land a blow, much less knock you on your ass like he did.”

Jenkins grabs my hand as I go to pull it away from his face, tucking it against his chest. He raises his other hand to his forehead and swoons dramatically, “OH MY STARS! She’s actually impressed! Hurry, we have GOT to find this ploughboy before he gets away!” he snickers as I jerk my hand away from his grasp, swatting his chest. “What did he look like?” he asks.

I roll my eyes, “Ass.” I mutter under my breath.

“Well, I wasn’t really looking at his ass, I only got a good look at his fist as it was flying into my face, you’ll have to describe him better than that!” Jenkins cackles.

“You’re the ass!” I grunt as I punch him in his arm.

“Owww, half pint, be careful, I still have another two rounds to go!” he howls rubbing his arm.

A smug grin crosses my face, “You sure about that?”

His eyes grow big and his jaw drops, “Hey now, I thought we were friends! You wouldn’t do that to me now, would you?” he asks, batting is lashes at me, his full bottom lip popped out in a pout.

“Ugh, remind me again, why are we friends when all you do is torment me?” I groan, hiding my smile.

“That’s easy, I’m the only person in the world who isn’t terrified of you or your dad!” he shrugs.

“Really…?” I deadpan.

“Okay, okay, you’re dad scares me…just a little though.” He sheepishly admits, “but don’t tell anyone I said that.”

"Yeah, me too." I murmur under my breath.

Jenkins throws his arm over my shoulder, and we turn to watch the melee. He props up beside me and we fall into a comfortable silence, studying the combatants as we wait for my first round to start