Page 32 of Planet Zero
Using his greater strength as an advantage, Wixab whirled around to Oh’nil’s back and hit him on the back of his legs with the club. Oh’nil tripped and fell down, rolling around to avoid Wixab’s vicious smashing. He blocked some hits but missed the others, catching them on his shoulders and ribs.
“He’s down! Someone should call it!” Addie cried out.
Illied shushed her, looking pained. “The High Counselor will. Wixab gets… carried away sometimes.”
Finally, Oh’nil stopped moving and went still, the club falling out of his listless hand. Wixab kicked it away and delivered a punt into his side with no effort spared, uplifting his body and making it roll away from the force of the blow.
“He can’t beat the man when he’s down!” She must’ve said it too loudly, earning askance glances from the women around. Chemmusaayl briefly looked her way, too. The For had such an acute hearing.
Illied began pulling Addie away from the crowd. “Come, Addie. Wixab is my mate. He’s an experienced fighter. He knows what he’s doing.”
Melmie tugged after them. “Yeah, like that time when he cut off young Crel’s fingersby accident.”
Frantic, Illied rounded on her daughter. “Hush, Melmie! You don’t know what you’re saying. Wixab knows what he’s doing, you remember that.” She sounded panicky and forced as if she was convincing herself as well as Melmie.
Addie dug in her heels. “Does Oh’nil need help with his injuries?” Addie craned her head to look back at the men in the court. She could see the blooming bruises on their torsos from where she stood. With those clubs, fractured ribs were almost a given.
“No! No. Men nurse their own injuries. Everybody does. And Oh’nil will be fine.”
A warrior should be able to withstand some wear and tear.Alrighty.
Illied continued in a fast rush of words that ran together, making them difficult for Addie to understand, “Oh’nil is used to being beaten. He’s untapped, and it makes him weaker than the mated men. But he has to fight; he isn't a cripple to be granted an excuse. Although I wish they didn’t pair him with Wixab…” Illied stopped and bit her lower lip, looking worried.
Her grip on Addie’s hand slacked, and Addie took off. She ran back to the court, to Oh’nil, but Zoark was ahead of her, having jumped in from the other side.
“Enough!” He pushed at Wixab, earning a hit from his club, yelping in pain. “Back off, he’s unconscious.”
“Wixab!” Came another warning, this time from Chief Net’ok. Vuskas emerged next to them, glaring.
The chief’s warning must have penetrated Wixab’s enraged brain, and he stood back, breathing heavily and grumbling.
“Take him out of here,” Vuskas threw to Zoark in a clipped tone before turning to leave. He spared no glance at Addie.
Zoark lowered to his knees next to Oh’nil.
“Is he alive?” Addie asked in a tremulous voice.
Zoark looked up sharply, as if only now realizing she was right next to him.
“Yes,” his reply was terse and hostile. He crouched, tunneling his hands under Oh’nil’s body.
“Here, let me help,” Addie reached out, but Zoark jerked his head violently.
“Don’t touch him.”
She quickly removed her hands. “I only want to help.”
“We don’t want your help,” he sneered. “Why are you here? Hungry vulture.”
She drew back. “Why? What did I ever do to you?”
Zoark lifted Oh’nil’s lax body off the ground, his bad knee not a deterrent at all to his surprising strength or his even more surprising balance.
“Not every man is for you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you sniffing around.” He repositioned Oh’nil to drape him around his shoulders like a boa.
Addie rose, too. Blood dripped from Oh’nil’s busted nose, soaking into the fabric of her boots.
“I don’t sniff around…” She stopped and took a deep breath. “Do you have something cold to put on his face?”
