My Familiar Stranger(27)

She did feel a little self-conscious being the only woman in a large facility of men trying to pretend they weren’t looking at her. Finally she left the machine galley and wandered down the hall to the room with the suspended floor - which was empty.

She took off her shoes and bounced across the floor with a little giggle. It was freeing to have such a large space all to herself. She had been doing some yoga style stretches for about half an hour when several knights, including Ram, came in talking and laughing. The others stopped abruptly when they saw her, but Ram, also wearing a tank top and sweat pants, continued toward her without breaking stride.

“Hey,” he said. She noted that he was less bulky than a lot of the other guys she had seen in the gym, but his arms, and the part of his chest she could see, were more cut.

“Hey,” she replied in kind. Knowing that the men had come in because they planned to use the room she added, “I was just going.”

“We were just goin’ to spar a little. Stay and watch.”

“Um. Alright. Maybe for a minute.”

The men donned boxing gloves, paired up, and engaged each other in a friendly style of mixed martial arts that was, from Elora’s perspective, woefully primitive. From her point of view the lack of skill was appalling and she couldn’t help thinking that it was no wonder they were losing people. Finally, when she couldn’t stand it any longer, she approached Ram and his partner. They paused to see what on earth might cause a woman to interrupt.

“Might I try this?”

Ram didn’t have a chance to gape for long because everyone within hearing distance began laughing. Elves were hard wired by evolution to want to coddle their mates and please them in every way they can. Saying no wouldn’t be impossible, just uncomfortable. He decided he could control the situation, assuring she wouldn’t be hurt, if he insisted on being her partner. He took a moment to congratulate himself on his reasoning skills.

“Sure,” he grinned, “but you must promise to go easy on me.”

He asked his partner to give her his gloves, which turned out not to be all that big on her. Then she asked him to spell out the rules and the goal of the exercise. Naturally, everybody in the room gathered round to watch. The idea of a woman sparring with a Black Swan knight was on the far, far side of ludicrous.

Apparently the general goal was development of speed, flexibility, and reaction time. The only rules were no biting and no shots to the groin. He stressed the latter with some reference to “the boys”. Easy. Simple.

Ram and Elora began to circle each other. The first clue that this was not going to go as expected was when Elora shifted effortlessly and lightning quick into the stance and demeanor of a fighter. Whenever Ram stopped, or thought about changing position, even for a split second, Elora angled her body away, making herself the smallest possible target, keeping her defensive side to the front. She also wore on her face the single-minded concentration of someone accustomed to facing experienced opponents. For Ram, it was confusing as hell.

Storm had missed Elora and gone looking for her to make sure she wasn’t overdoing. When he and Kay walked in and saw the match underway, Storm let out a string of curses that had Kay raising an eyebrow. Fortunately he kept his treatise on Ram’s recklessness, immaturity, and stupidity to sub-distraction volume.

Ram thought he might give Elora a little tap on the outer bicep, not enough to hurt, but enough to scare her into calling it a day. He feinted left and charged right. In response she waited until the last millisecond, took a quick step to her right and then used his own forward momentum to catch him around the mid section and turn him end over end so that he slammed down on the mat on his back.

He hit so hard the breath was knocked out of him. Few things inspire panic quicker than not being able to breathe. Elora watched in horror as Ram’s shocked face went through changes of color from pink to red to purple before his lungs were finally granted a reprieve.

A moment after he resumed breathing his brain registered that there was more wrong than just a temporary loss of air. The huge gasp of air stabbed him with a pain zinger. When he tried to sit up, he let out something between a yell and a groan. He lay there wincing for a minute, but didn’t make a further move to rise. Finally he looked at Elora and said, “Bloody Paddy’s Day, woman! I told you to go easy on me. I think you broke a f**kin’ rib!”

The knights who witnessed the event exchanged looks that were worth a thousand words.

Elora dropped to her knees next to Ram saying, “Ram, I’m...oh, gods... I’m so sorry. This is not.... I’ve executed that move a thousand times and I’ve never injured anybody. What can I do?” She started tugging at the laces with her teeth so she could get the gloves off. Then she heard Storm’s calm, take-charge voice behind her.

“Stay still Ram. Med’s coming. Let them take a look before you move.”

Ram’s rib hurt like hell, but it almost hurt worse to look up and see that Elora’s eyes filled with big tears that were dropping on his chest. Peering into those turquoise pools brimming over, turning red around the edges, his only concern was comforting her. “Shhhh. ‘Tis probably no’ more than bruised ego. Stop now before you make me cry, too.”

A doctor came in with an assistant close behind. He wasn’t running, but he was moving pretty fast for a middle aged guy who had never heeded his own advice about diet and exercise. Injuries to knights were taken very seriously.

Storm pulled Elora up and away to make room for them. The doc knelt down and pressed around a little. At one point she knew he’d found the spot when Ram clenched his jaw, squeezed his eyes shut, and then reopened them to give the doc a look saying he was a dead man if he did that again. The diagnosis was, very likely, a broken rib, the severity of which would be confirmed by x-ray in the infirmary. They called for a wheelchair.

While they were waiting there was a murmur that rumbled through the crowd, followed by a very loud voice shouting, “What the hell happened here?” Sol stomped toward Ram lying on the mat looking miserable.

Storm intercepted him, putting his hands up as if to block Sol from moving forward. Storm reported quietly that it was merely an accident. Glancing back toward Elora, he asked Sol to step outside in the hall where they might talk more privately.

In the hallway Sol got the short version, to which he replied, “Jesus,” and raked his hand over his head as if there was actually hair there. Scowling, he asked Storm if he was going to the infirmary.

“Of course. I’ll wait for results and call you.”

Elora watched Sol nod at Storm, look her up and down, then retreat the way he came. He was red in the face and clearly mad as a hornet. Apparently there was a “notify first” standing order to report knight injuries to Sol immediately which was what had brought him on the double.

Elora paced up and down in the waiting room of the infirmary. She would have been glad to see familiar faces, but not under these circumstances and, truthfully, she had hoped she would never see the inside of the infirmary again. She was beside herself that Ram was injured and devastated that she was the cause. In her mind she kept replaying the scene over and over trying to determine how it could have happened. She’d never given anyone anything worse than a light bruise in her life and she didn’t like the feeling.

Kay came in with a coffee for Storm and a hot chocolate for Elora. She sat down and stared at the top of the cup thinking it would be wrong to enjoy hot chocolate. Storm took the seat next to her.