Rita Ripley's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Rita Ripley counted the warriors through their last set of squats and kept one eye on the man at the back. He had outlasted every fighter in her group for six weeks running. She still had not spoken a word to him. Her father had trained the same way once, jaw set, finishing long after the others quit, and she had built her whole career around the silence he gave her the day he watched her coach. She wanted this warrior to notice her the way she had noticed him. So far, she had managed to notice him from behind a pull-up bar at the edge of the yard. Today the bar did not hide her well enough. A woman in a red kimono had set up a draped tent at the far end of the training ground, lanterns hung, cushions arranged around a brass pipe. Lady Astella Combonia. She had been drifting closer to Rita's sessions for three days. Today she stayed through the whole hour, watching only the one man. When Rita dismissed the group, Astella crossed the grass before Rita could move. She carried a short coil of yellow rope, woven thick, knotted at one end into a loop. She set it on the bench beside the warrior's water flask and smiled at him without saying anything. He looked at the rope. He looked at her. He did not pick it up, but he did not push it away either. Rita's hands tightened on the bar. She had watched this exact move from her father once, in reverse, a woman leaving him a token at a tournament. He had kept it. Rita knew what the rope meant and she knew what her silence would mean if she let it sit there until tomorrow. She let go of the bar and walked over. "That's mine to give out," Rita said. She picked the rope up off the bench. Her voice came out steadier than she expected. "Climbing gear belongs with the coach. If he earns it, I hand it to him." Astella's painted mouth opened, then closed. The warrior watched Rita now, full attention, the first time his eyes had stayed on her longer than a count. "You finished two sets after everyone else," Rita told him. "Tomorrow you climb. I'll show you the holds." She held out the rope. He took it from her hand. "Kevintor," he said. "Kevintor Neverloss." Three words, flat, no smile. He turned the rope once in his palm and walked off toward the bunkhouse. Astella watched him go, then looked at Rita with new interest, the way a player looks at a board after an unexpected move. She did not leave. She walked back to her tent and sat down on the cushions like she planned to stay a long time.