Midmorning – Day 12, Fall of 509 A.V.
"Aren't you missing your extra leg?"
Her cheeks burned at the rather unimaginitive jibe, but she understood that the man was trying to salvage his bruised ego. Rather than jump the offender and pummel him with her fists, as was her usual reaction to the slight intended for her lame sister Tala, ever since they were young, Siiri merely gave a derisive snort and opened her stance, inviting the man to attack her. It was unarmed combat training that day and she and the man before her, Goro, have been called out to spar.
Perfect.
It wasn't a secret among her fellow warriors that Tala had recently rejected Goro’s romantic advances, and the proud man was sore. He came to her to offer companionship, and then made it look like he was her only chance of siring children since who in their right mind would couple with a lame? It was quite an insult, but still, Siiri knew there was truth in it. Despite keeping the rest of her body trim and fit, Tala still had a lame leg. Since birth. Nobody would risk getting an offspring that might inherit her infirmity. The one reason Tala still attracted interest from the men was because she came from a line of great warriors.
Not to mention one of the most beautiful women in all of Taloba!
A small crowd had already gathered around them to watch the showdown between Tala’s champion (as they like to call Siiri ever since she was a little girl) and the man-mountain, Goro. For a people where the women were usually the taller among the sexes, Goro was the exception among the men.
He was huge.
Standing at half a head over six feet, he had at least thirty pounds on Siiri, and it wasn’t fat that made up that weight. The man was pure muscle. Growing up, he was called Spearhead because his body frame looked the shape of a spear’s head pointing downwards. He had very broad shoulders, and strong arms as thick as a normal man’s thighs, though his legs were not as heavily muscled; they tapered off to resemble a spearhead’s point. He was an excellent wrestler and his ham-sized fists could easily put the hardiest warrior to sleep. All in all, he was a very difficult man to beat in unarmed combat. Which was probably why he had the audacity to do what he did to Tala.
And lucky me, I get to fight him today.
Normally, Siiri would relish the chance to test her skills against one of the best unarmed specialists of the army, but today she had begun to feel the effects of her monthly cycle: her chest had felt tender since the morn and she could feel the slight tremors of cramps coming on. It was nothing major as she wasn’t much of a bleeder anyway, but she always hated the accompanying cramps with a passion. She was still thankful though, as the real thing would not start until the morrow or the day after, but still, it left her feeling lethargic and grouchy. She wanted nothing more than to stand guard in some lonely spot outside the walls, stew and not interact with other people.
Let’s get this over with then, she groused.
Siiri crooked at finger at Goro, a taunting move. The added eyebrow, raised in mock suggestion, was almost unnecessary to draw the man in. Goro lunged at her, right hand leading, but, recognizing it as a feint, Siiri merely sidestepped to the left and back, slapping the man’s hand away all the while.
The real attack would come next.
As if on cue, Goro charged straight at her, shoulders lowered as if to ram her gut, both arms now leading. Siiri did a short jump and thrust a knee forward to meet the man’s face. It was a novice move, a move borne out annoyance, and she knew her mistake the moment her foot left the ground. Rather than the sharp crack she expected to hear to signify she’s broken Goro’s nose, there was a dull thud instead. Her knee hit her opponent’s forehead - dazing him, yes – but she thought a broken nose would have been so much more satisfying.
And then she was falling to the ground as Goro’s weight bore her down, and all thoughts of breaking the man’s nose flew from her mind.
Siiri knew she had to act fast or the heavier Goro would smother her with his weight and superior wrestling ability. In the time it took to think it, Siiri wrapped her long legs around the man’s massive torso, locking one foot under the back of her other leg’s knee to prevent him from passing her legs and mounting her – a sure way to lose and get her face smashed in by his fists. Then she pulled his head down to her stomach and trapped his arms under her armpits to prevent him raining blows down on her.
“There’s the Jaw,” Siiri heard one spectator intoned, referring to the lock her legs had around Goro’s body. It was a basic defense when fighting a wrestler who had the advantage of being on top. It was a move popularized by her own clan, the Snapping Jaws.
But then, we popularized a lot of things… Like this one!
In a sudden move, Siiri looped her left arm inside Goro’s right and, cording her bicep tight, began to pull her limb towards her chest, bending Goro’s arm by the elbow. Powerful as she was though, her arm was still no match against the man’s more muscular one. Seeing no other choice, she released her hold on Goro’s other arm and pushed her locking arm even harder with it.
Goro gave a great shout as he realized that his arm was about to be twisted off. With his free hand, he grabbed Siiri’s left fist and pulled back, lightening the torque on his right elbow. Siiri held on tight so as not to have her hold broken.
Goro looked up at her, anger in his eyes.
We’re at an impasse and you know it, Siiri thought. If you loosen your grip on my arm just one bit, I’m going to twist your arm off at the elbow.
If she thought Goro would call out a draw, she was sadly mistaken. The man braced both feet on the ground and, with a grunt, lifted Siiri’s one hundred and seventy pound frame off the ground. He did this with one arm twisted in an awkward position. Siiri’s eyes widened as Goro held her high in the air.
He’s going to slam me, she realized in panic. By Myri’s Wound, he’s going to slam me to the ground!
Quickly, she unhooked her legs from his torso and, with a little leverage, planted them on the man’s thighs, kicking off the same time she released her hold on his arm. Goro staggered backwards; Siiri landed unsteadily a few feet away. Both gazed at each other, grudging respect for their opponent’s skill evident in their eyes.
“Don’t stand there gawking at each other – engage! We don’t have all day!” shouted Eena of the Swooping Talons, the day’s drill sergeant.
The combatants circled each other warily now, each watching the other’s every move. Again, it was Goro who made the first move. Leery of taking Siiri to the ground gain, he decided to engage her in a striking game. A bucket-sized fist careened towards the woman’s face, and she was only able to sidestep it at the last second. She retaliated with a swift kick on the inner thigh of his leading leg. She danced out of range before another fist came her way.
Siiri utilized this hit-and-run tactic four more times. Whenever Goro would engage her with any sort of punching combination, she would weave away from the blow and punish his leading leg with a kick. Goro’s thigh was already a mess of welts.
On the fifth time however, she found that she’s used it one time too many: Goro expertly caught her kicking leg as it impacted on his thigh. The man had timed her attacks perfectly. As if in slow motion, Siiri watched Goro’s right arm rear back, like a bowstring pulled to full tautness by an archer. She saw bulging muscles ripple along the length of it, ending at the enormous fist.
In some detached part of her mind, Siiri thought, This will hurt.
Siiri threw her hands up just as time flowed back to normal and Goro threw the punch. It hit her smack in the face, bloodying her nose. Her world spun, and the corners of her vision darkened. But she caught the offending arm, one hand holding tight on the wrist, the other wrapped around the elbow. Following the momentum of the blow, Siiri fell backwards, dragging Goro’s arm down with her. She kicked her free leg up and over the man’s head as she fell so that it was positioned just below his chin, his arm trapped between her legs.
“There’s the Jaw again,” someone said.
As her head hit the ground, further disorienting her, Siiri hugged Goro’s arm tightly, her hands clamping down on his wrist with a vise-like grip. Her sight was blacking out but she told herself she wouldn’t let go no matter what happened. Locking her feet together, she sealed the hold completely. Then ever so slowly she began to thrust her hips forward, pushing Goro’s bicep outward while she pulled his forearm inward towards her chest, causing the man’s elbow to bend in the wrong way, hyper-extending it.
“I submit! I submit!” Goro shouted, his voice rising in pitch with every syllable. He tried to pry her hands from his arm but Siiri clung on like a wolverine on its latest prey until the drill sergeant pulled her off.
Siiri gave the other woman an indifferent shrug as she stepped away. Eena ignored her. Instead she helped Goro massage his nearly dislocated arm and waved the other warriors to come closer.
“Right, then, gather round! That’s one way of dealing with someone who has superior wrestling than you. You won’t encounter many, except maybe the Dhani – ” the sergeant spat, “ – but on the off chance that you do, learning how to disable your opponent before you dispatch him is important.”
She turned to look at Siiri, whose nose still dripped blood, staining herself red.
“Goro is bigger, heavier, and definitely stronger than Siiri here. What do you think would have happened to her if she matched wrestling with wrestling?”
Someone with a smart mouth piped in from the crowd, “She’d get more than a bloody nose, that’s for sure!”
The rest of the crowd laughed. Siiri grimaced and raised an eyebrow at the speaker.
Eena clapped her on the shoulder. “Calm down, Siiri! It was a lucky armbar, and you know it! Anyway,” she continued addressing the group of warriors before her, “you may come from a race of superior warriors but that does not mean you go around underestimating your enemies. When you fight, you fight to win. To do that, you must exploit any and all weaknesses presented to you by your enemy. When you attack, it must reveal to you the enemy’s vulnerability… even if your attack fails.
“Pair up in twos and try to overcome your opponents with just your bodies. No weapons! The losers get to clean the stables tomorrow, while the winners get to go out tonight and join in the nocturnal patrols. Try not to break any of your bones. Move it!”
The drill sergeant turned to Goro standing on the side. “You, get yourself to the healers and have them put a salve on that arm of yours before it swells. Be thankful it’s not dislocated or your won’t be holding a spear for weeks.”
She waited for the big man to lumber in the direction of the apothecary before speaking again. “Good improvisation when you got hit, but you’re lucky Goro didn’t follow up with another punch or you’d still by lying on the ground right now while everyone else is laughing at you. Try to reign in your temper next time. You looked like a stupid greenhorn with that Tiger knee you threw. Mistakes like that can cost you your life in a real battle.
“Now go get your face cleaned up. Come back after you’ve rested from your midday meal and we’ll work on your techniques.”
Dismissed, Siiri made a beeline for the nearest well to wash up, stopping only to grab a rag from a nearby bench to wipe her burning face.
She never took well to being criticized, constructive or not.
