Then his head went back to the action as two more fighters came out.
I smiled to myself and turned back too, thinking, okay, this wasn’t so bad.
Without any ado whatsoever, they went at each other. I noticed immediately this was not like a boxing match from home. Not that I watched much boxing at home but these guys didn’t have gloves, for one thing. For another, there were no referees. And also, I didn’t think boxers were allowed to part wrestle, kick, aim at (and sometimes connect with) the groin and the like.
It wasn’t brutal, it was brutal.
And in this match, I instantly had a favorite. I didn’t know why, I just liked him. Maybe because the other guy kept trying to kick or punch him in the groin so I didn’t think that was fighting fair.
So, when my guy started to look like he was winning, I got excited.
And therefore, not thinking, I cheered. And, as the battle wore on, I cheered loud and I cheered hard.
When the bad guy went down, my arms went straight up, I bounced on my behind between Lahn’s legs and I screamed, “Woo hoo! You decked him! Way to go! You rock!”
The victor did not stamp, shout, beat his chest or down a half cup of raw spirit.
His eyes came to me.
Then I felt that all eyes had come to me as the warriors’ bellows petered out.
My arms dropped.
Uh-oh. I f**ked up.
Lahn’s huge hand curled tight around the back of my neck.
Uh-oh!
The triumphant fighter took two steps toward me, I tensed and he stopped.
Then he leaned into me, I reared back and he boomed, “Suh Rahna Dahksahna!”
“Suh Rahna Dahksahna!” Another shout rang out.
Then the stamping began as they stood, stomped their feet, punched the air with their fists and chanted, “Rahna Dahksahna! Rahna Dahksahna! Rahna Dahksahna! Rahna Dahksahna!”
Okay, um… it appeared, crisis malfunction. Apparently these boys liked it when their women cheered during blood sports.
Good to know.
I smiled uncertainly at the boys and then felt pressure on my neck. I tipped back my head to see Lahn looking down on me, his face expressionless.
I bit my lip, his gaze dropped to my mouth then his eyes lifted and locked on mine.
Then he muttered, “Good.”
I felt my face melt into a smile.
He shook his head, his lips tipped up then he brought the cup to my lips. I took another big drink; he took the cup away, squeezed my neck and then took his hand away. His attention went back to the center and mine followed. The boys calmed down, new combatants entered the circle and the games resumed.
* * * * *
I knew things were not going to be good when Dortak came in dragging his terrified looking, cowed, eyes-sunken in, arms covered in bruises new bride.
Unlike when Lahn and I arrived, the minute Dortak hauled his woman into the tent, eyes went to him and the vibe changed. There was still cheering, stamping and the fighters didn’t miss an opportunity at landing a blow, but a lethal undercurrent slithered low through the tent and it did not feel good.
When I saw her, without thought, my hand moved swiftly, searching until it found Lahn’s and I curled mine into his. He didn’t give me a reassuring squeeze. He moved my hand to his thigh and curved my fingers around the firm muscle then his hand left mine.