Alex's current Society for Creative Anachronism sword instructor, Jason De Toit, was tall and thin. She had learned to be wary of this, for he was all speed and wiry strength.
He had a black belt in Kung Fu but it was his Krav Maga that she was hot to learn: all the quickly learned and effective street fighting skills.
They traded a few jabs with the practice swords and Alex saw that he was going easy on her.
It crossed her mind to administer some painful swats as punishment, but then remembered that she was going to ask for Krav Maga lessons, so she should be nice.
"C'mon, Jason. Do you think Cla will be this easy on me? She nearly cut my heart out."
"Who's Cla?" Jason stared at her.
Alex cursed herself. "Uhm . . . role playing. Seriously, step it up."
Alex saw that Jason was good, but he had never fought for his life.
His use as a swordsmanship instructor is over. At least there's still Krav Maga.
"Alex, I need you at RenFest. Lenica dropped out, but she said you could wear her costume. It'll be fun. Surely, you've been to a RenFest before. There will be a morning sparring session and then the big battle is at noon."
"Okay, but don't call me 'Shirley'. I'll trade you for Krav Maga lessons," Alex replied.
"Great, I'll get the costume."
***
Alex stared at the leather brassiere and skirt that Jason was holding up and then laughed.
Either laugh or belt him one.
"I am not wearing some hormonal teenage boy's idea of what a female warrior look like. I want chain mail," Alex said.
"I'll loan you a chain mail shirt if you wear the skirt," Jason countered. "Remember how hot it will be." Gauging her look, he added, "Five free Krav Maga lessons."
*****
Walkingthe RenFest, Alex wore a ferocious look on her face, although no one knew itwas because of the short leather skirt.
She prowled in close proximity to Jason so that they looked like a couple. Alex was afraid she would blast some drunken tourist who pinched her rear, but the RenFest crowd was well-behaved and the other SCA members were courtly.
The first sparring match was well received by the crowd and Jason announced the noon battle.
After watching the comedians and short Shakespeare spoofs, Alex walked to the designated battleground, a large, grassy, picnic area of the park.
She squared off against her designated opponent and won, as planned.
A man in a tunic and pig-faced bascinet helmet stepped in her path, sword out, clearly wanting a fight. He hadn't been on her schedule, but Alex shrugged and took a stance.
He rushed her and in two minutes, it was clear that this was no SCA member. Alex stepped up her sword-work, only to find it matched.
She ratcheted up again with power swings and again was matched.
She wound his blade for two revolutions and he flung off her sword. Alex hung onto it and evaluated the swordsman opposite her.
Her opponent reached out with his sword and flicked it across her arm, just below the chain mail, and a fine spatter of blood sprayed out.
The crowd gasped and the nearest SCA members turned in shock.
Alex entered battle mode and now there was a real show for the crowd. She slammed an overhead chop full force and he flung her off.
Alex quickly turned the swing into a side slice, but her opponent danced out of range.
This guy is good. Should I worry? Not a lot, this is a RenFest, but is that nick on my arm some kind of warning?
Failing brawn, Alex herded her opponent backwards, for she had studied the terrain of the 'battleground'. He fell into the dip as Alex planned.
She crushed her heel down on his wrist. The second he lost his grip on his sword, she kicked it away.
"Take off the helmet, jerk, or I'll return the favor of spilled blood." Alex put the sword to his throat.
He started the serious stuff. "You don't want me to take this off in front of all these people," Rile's voice sifted tinnily through the helmet. "Just in case."
Alex stifled shouting his name, but before she could react further, Jason ran up. He flung off his own helmet in a fury.
"Who do you think you are drawing blood at a RenFest, bastard?" Jason shouted.
Rile jumped up a split second before Jason threw down on him.
"Jason, don't. It's okay. He's done it before," Alex said without thinking.
Rile nimbly avoided Jason's fist and front rising kick. He stood in a defensive posture, fists up.
"You enjoy hurting women? Or just Alex?" Jason's shout rose even further. "Take off that helmet and we're going outside the RenFest, you sick—"
"Jason, I meant he's my sparring partner." Alex found herself in the strange position of holding back a human male for his protection.
Ick.
When Jason looked at her, she grinned a lopsided grin and said, "You really are a knight in shining armor, aren't you?"
Jason relaxed enough for Alex to push him back a few steps. Rile stayed where he was, fists up.
"If it makes you feel better, he'll answer to my boyfriend, his older brother." Alex turned her head to Rile. "Won't you, darlin'?"
Rile knew he was in trouble when Alex's Southern accent slipped through.
Alex released Jason and flicked her head at Rile. "Come."
"I don't feel comfortable letting you leave with him." Jason caught her arm and pointedly stared at her bleeding wound.
"I'll be fine, o' shining knight. He really is my sparring partner and he really will catch it from my boyfriend, his brother. I'll visit the first aide station. It's only a flesh wound," Alex said the last sentence in a Monty Python voice and then rushed away, taking Rile with her."Where did you get that helmet?"
"Rented it. Let's see the Dead Ted show. It sounded funny," Rile said.
"You are in so much trouble and you want to see a comedy routine?" Alex asked.
"I'm always in trouble with Gabe. Not important. Let's find first aide."
"Are you always in trouble with me?"
The helmeted face turned to consider her. "Can I be?" Rile asked.
Alex knew that she had lost this round and made her way to the first aide station. Once bandaged, they made their way to the stage that Rile wanted. He was amused by the ventriloquist and Alex hated to admit to him that she enjoyed it.
Jason stood at the back of the seating. She also caught glimpses of him wherever they went throughout the RenFest.
At length, Rile tired of wearing the helmet and wanted to go home. They both saw Jason tailing them in the parking lot. Alex motioned Rile to her subcompact and walked back to Jason.
"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Jason asked.
"I'm sure."
"Because you come in bruised an awful lot. It's not from that guy or his brother, is it? 'Cause you can leave with me now and we'll call the cops."
When Alex shook her head, sweat beaded Jason's brow and his gaze darted around nervously. "That's not what you like, is it?" he asked.
Alex stopped her hand halfway to slapping him. "No, it is not what I like. I come in bruised a lot because I spar a lot."
I hate sharing even a teensy bit with anyone, but I want those Krav Maga lessons, and Jason is only concerned about me.
"Someone did hurt me once and I want to make sure that he never does again. It wasn't that guy or his older brother. They helped chase him off. I take a lot of lessons and spar a lot. I'll hold you to those five free Krav Maga classes. I want to chase him off by myself next time."
Not that the headless Morgan will bother me. Still, there's Hermann and whoever created me.
"Make it ten. I want you to become so good that you only give bruises, not get them."
That's so sweet, I almost wish I don't hate all men. Almost.
"Here's your chain mail shirt." Alex struggled out of it. "Thanks for the loan. I prefer heat to utter embarrassment. I'll return Lenica's outfit at our first Krav Maga lesson. Same time and place as sword lessons?"
Jason nodded and Alex walked back to the car alone, although she could feel Jason's gaze on her.
***
She and Rile drove in silence. At the next light, a small street rod, speakers booming and car frame vibrating, pulled up next to them.
I hated having someone else's music forced down my throat.
Alex gripped the steering wheel in anger. The driver caught her eye and turned up the music, sneer on his face.
"Rile, hand me my special," Alex said.
He reached in the backseat and pulled out the bulbous, plastic monstrosity that was a screaming orange and green. Alex had bought it because it was blatantly a water gun.
She pointed it through the other car's open window at the stereo and fired her own blast through it. The rod's speakers blew up and the driver screamed obscenities at her.
"Keep it down, white boy poser," Alex said, before she jammed her subcompact into gear and took off, tiny engine pistons protesting. "Let the games begin," she told Rile.
"I saw all The Fast and the Furious movies. Your car doesn't have a prayer against that street rod."
"It doesn't need one. Let's hope he doesn't have a gun. Keep an eye out and sing if he does. I have a plan."
Alex whipped around a corner, took the car out of gear, and braked. The street rod roared up on them, catching the cop's attention.
Alex remembered everywhere she had ever seen a cop, especially those in speed traps. She didn't ask how or why, but this was the first time it had been useful to her.
She motored slowly away as the sullen driver exited his now grounded car, policeman watching.
***
They were on Veteran's Highway when Alex asked, "Why the blood?"
She didn't accuse, or sound angry, or whine. She was curious. Alex saw Rile's face flash in uncertainty and realized that he didn't know himself.
"You weren't taking me seriously and weren't fighting very well. I wanted to see what you could really do."
They both wondered if that was the real reason.
"Help me think of a good cover story for it," Alex replied. "Gabe's bound to see it."
"You won't tell Gabe the real reason?" Rile asked, astonished.
"Do you think you're the only one who suffers when Gabe is angry with you?"
"Gabe yells at you?" Rile stayed astonished.
"No, but I would prefer it to the stony silence. It's like living with a statue. An angry one. Ugh." Alex remembered how she had put her arms around the cold, angry mountain lying next to her.
Rile pondered that. "Did Gabe know you were going to the RenFest?"
Rile was quick to pick up on nicknames and colloquialisms.
"I told him I was working. Which is true," she added too quickly, "I traded working the battle scenes for Krav Maga lessons."
"What a positively dysfunctional relationship you have with my brother."
"That's it! No more Dr. Phil for you! I'm cancelling the cable."
Rile grinned. "I'll watch it on the internet if you do. Like anyone has cable anymore. Let's grab some dinner and say we were patrolling. Good cover story and we can eat, too."
"Then a lecture on the dangers of patrolling." Alex sighed.
"Maybe you'll get the stony silence," Rile said.
"Like that's better." Alex sighed again.
Rile suggested several restaurants and once Alex parked; he took off, forcing Alex to trot to keep up with him. When he stopped at a bar, Alex objected.
"You were complaining that the alcohol bill would outweigh the food bill, so I thought we could eliminate the food part," Rile said in a reasonable tone.
"I need food to keep from getting giddy," Alex protested.
"Now that I'd like to see," Rile said.
"I'll tell Gabe the truth and let you deal with him while I pass out," Alex warned.
"Let's try those chocolate martinis you mentioned and then it won't matter what Gabe does." Rile watched her and said, "I can see you're tempted."
"Will you promise not to order more when I'm in the bathroom?" Alex knew Rile's tricks and kept walking.
"Depends. How many are we having?" Rile asked.
"One apiece." Alex knew that this was haggling and started low.
"No deal." Rile had been raised in a bartering culture.
"Two." Alex was ready to accept.
"Maybe."
"Rile, any more than that and the alcohol bill will be more than the food," Alex said.
"Your point being?"
"If I have three martinis without food, I won't need a cover story. I'll be falling down drunk," she lied.
"Lightweight," Rile said.
"That's okay. It's cheaper, you bottomless pit."
***
They walked until Alex motioned to an entrance in a huge brick building that stretched the entire block.
Various wooden signs swayed gently on their hinges over the doorways, proclaiming the different establishments within the giant building, while gaslights flickered in black wrought iron lamps.
The entrance hallway was too cramped for Alex and Rile to walk side by side, but it quickly opened into a patio. Before them, black wrought iron tables matching the lamps squatted along the crumbling brick patio.
A covered walkway lined with hanging ferns disappeared into the gloom. Small candle flames gleamed on the tables inside the dining room beyond the patio.
The waiter brought their martinis almost immediately as the best way to maximize the number ordered. Rile murmured something into the waiter's ear and he nodded. Rile ignored Alex's suspicious look. Alex drank the tangy sweetness that turned fiery down her throat.
"Don't guzzle it," she ordered Rile.
He swirled his green frosted glass with a wicked gleam in his eye and took a long, noisy sip.
"Better?" he asked, once the glass was half empty.
Alex shot him a look and ordered a breaded crawfish appetizer.
It will give me a good base for my drinking.
The appetizer also came quickly, but dinner would come with New Orleans slowness. Alex picked up a tiny curled morsel and popped it into her mouth.
"Delectable little lobsters," she said, choosing another and another.
Rile signaled and the second round of martinis appeared. Alex looked with interest at the white frosty concoction in front of her.
"Look, even the glass is beautiful," she said.
The clear stem had violet glass flowers stuck on at odd intervals and the triangular glass was swirled with etched designs.
"Wedding cake martini," Rile explained.
"Martini number two." Alex reached for more crawfish.
Rile popped open the menu and slid it over to her. "You choose."
"You trust me?"
"After two martinis and crawfish to soften you up? Sure. Besides, you always eat some of mine, so I know that you'll order something good."
"I only eat some of yours because you eat half of mine," Alex replied, but took the menu. After a minute, she said, "Mardi Gras seafood pasta and imperial stuffed flounder. If our waiter would ever take our order."
She twisted around to find the figure among the others in white shirts, black pants, and white aprons.
Rile had only to signal and the waiter appeared with more martinis. Rile didn't let him slip away, though, until he had taken their food order.
"Tell me about this Jason dude." Rile fixed Alex with a steely gaze.
"He's my swordsmanship instructor," Alex demurred. "Soon to be Krav Maga instructor."
"How long have you been doing that?" Rile asked.
"Am I on trial here?"
"Not with me." Rile let her think on that before prompting, "Well, how long?"
"Right after I cut my leg with Cale's sword," Alex said.
"That long?"
"Now you realize that you don't know everything that I do. You can't follow me whenever you want, wherever I go." Alex locked gazes with Rile.
"Considering your enemies, that isn't the wisest course of action." Rile stared into her eyes until she looked away. Looking satisfied, Rile changed tracks. "What's Krav Maga?"
Alex spent the rest of dinner telling him what she knew of Israeli self defense. At the end, she said, "I can tell you want lessons, but you can't push your disguising ability that far."
"We have a potential Robert on our hands," Rile pronounced when Alex refused a fourth round of martinis.
"Does he look like a Robert?"Alex exploded. "He's not some poor geeky lab tech. Jason can take care of himself."
"No amount of knife, sword, or hand combat can protect him from a gun," Rile said.
"Krav Maga employs gun disarming techniques," Alex replied.
"Didn't help Robert. Or if New Robert is shot from a distance."
Alex slammed back the rest of her martini. "Fine, I'll get rid of him." At his raised eye ridge, she added, "Nicely, too."
Rile ordered a fourth round of martinis without protest from Alex.
*****
Dedicated to
AlimaKhanBharath
Welcome back
I think you'll like her shape shifting dragons and the music!!