Chapter 4
Nyssa wasn’t wrong when she said the other recruits would arrive soon. She was barely to her feet when two hooded figures escorted a single file line of people in.
There were around ten of them, most probably little older than twenty, though at least three of them were significantly older. Letting her eyes glide over the line of recruits there were stark differences between them. Two of the older ones stood at attention the way you would expect of someone from the military, not moving a muscle and their gazes locked somewhere in the distance, the third one eyes locked on the hooded figure. Most younger ones were fidgeting, their bodies stiff and eyes flickering around the room. Some looked excited, eyes bright as they looked at the different weapons while others seemed to be doing the best they could to dissociate.
Kiki was intrigued but Nyssa’s warning rang clear in her ears. She was gonna endure more than she probably signed up for, and she could only guess these recruits would be part of that. She forced herself to look calm as she let her eyes glide over the recruits once more.
One woman caught Kiki’s eyes. She was one of the younger ones, close to twenty, hair in two tight French braids and stance relaxed. She seemed at ease in the environment, not scared or eager, just present in the moment. When the woman’s eyes met hers the stranger gave her a small, almost reassuring smile, and a subtle nod in her direction, before her eyes flickered to Nyssa with a softness Kiki couldn’t quite place.
Before she could dwell on it the hooded figures caught her attention. Their stature said they were men, their muscles taut and posture that of a seasoned warrior. For their muscular build Kiki was struck by their graceful movements, their feet barely making a sound on the stone floor.
“Al-Nasheeta, ittabi’ini,” Nyssa commanded as she strode to the side of the room.
She hesitated for a second, eyes flickering to the recruits, but when she caught the cold eyes of one of the hooded figures she scrambled to catch up to Nyssa. The woman stopped at the side of the room, waiting for Kiki to stand next to her before saying, “you will watch and you will learn.” The conviction in Nyssa’s voice was that of a woman used to being obeyed, and with the hooded figure’s eyes still trained on her Kiki didn’t dare defy her.
A stark booming voice sounded as the figure’s eyes moved to Nyssa, quick Arabic making it so Kiki couldn’t distinguish the different words in the foreign language. “Ra’s al Ghul gave her to me to break. You will not touch her without me saying so,” Nyssa replied without hesitation, her tone commanding and unnervingly calm as her eyes stayed locked on the man.
There was a beat of tense silence and Kiki noticed the man’s eyes flickered to her before he stiffly nodded. “As you command, Nyssa al Ghul.”
The words weren’t blind obedience. There was a challenge behind them. Sharp as a blade not allowed to cut. Even with just the ability to see the man’s eyes she knew he was Nyssa’s senior by many years. He held himself like someone who owned these halls and if he was permitted to train the recruits she deduced he was a trusted high ranking member of the league. Kiki’s mind raced with the implication, eye flickering briefly to Nyssa before settling on the man again. It must pain him to be commanded by someone who couldn’t even have half his experience. Still she knew deep down that Nyssa could match the man blow for blow, skill for skill.
The man held Nyssa’s eyes, a quiet challenge behind them, but Nyssa met them, radiating authority and unshakable confidence. This was a woman not to be messed with and the man would be wise to realize that, Kiki thought.
The man was the first to look away, subtle tension in his hands betraying his temper. He turned to the recruits, barking an order in Arabic so harshly Kiki flinched. Nyssa’s hand shot out to her shoulder, holding her in place as the woman’s piercing eyes met hers. “Flinch again and you’ll invite more than their wrath,” she said, barely loud enough for Kiki to hear. There was a quiet warning in the words but with Nyssa’s eyes flickering to the other people in the room she realized the woman wasn’t warning Kiki for herself.
Before she could reply a sharp crack had her head whipping to the others in the room. A young woman fell to the floor, a dribble of blood running down her lip, and the hooded man’s hand, frozen mid-air, still vibrating with the force of the blow.
Her breath hitched, her muscles tensing imperceptibly, but she managed not to move. Nyssa, apparently satisfied with Kiki’s restraint, removed her hand from her shoulder. It was only then that Kiki realized how grounding the hand had been. Her stomach churned as she bit the inside of her cheek. Her gaze darted to the woman, looking for reassurance but finding none as Nyssa’s cold eyes stayed glued to the scene. She didn’t seem surprised, nor did she seem displeased. To her this wasn’t cruelty but necessity. Anxiety bubbled in her chest as she realized this was something completely normal to the woman.
The girl who was struck hadn’t cried out. There was no sign of pain other than a slight grimace as she got up, wiping the blood from her lip with trembling hands before staring at attention again.
Kiki kept her face blank even as her stomach twisted. She was horrified but even with her limited experience she realized this was no place for weakness. Nyssa had made that painfully clear. She subtly shifted to clasp her hands behind her back, hiding the subtle tremor that had taken hold of them.
The other recruits hadn’t flinched, she realized as she let her eyes glide over the row of people. Not one of them. Only two looked a little uncomfortable at the display but the rest looked like it was completely normal. Even the woman who had shown her a flicker of kindness earlier looked stoic now. Her eyes were unmoving as she stared ahead at something Kiki couldn’t see.
The silence stretched for a few moments, the room tense as the hooded man who had slapped the girl walked down the line of recruits with a scrutinizing gaze. Kiki held her breath when he stopped in front of one of the recruits only to continue after a few seconds.
A sharp command in Arabic cut through the tension, immediately making the recruits move. Only two words had been said yet what happened next was something most people couldn’t do with an extensive explanation. The group split into smaller groups, each person grabbing a weapon before dividing over the four mats in smaller groups.
To Kiki there seemed to be no logic in the way they’d split. The woman who’d caught her attention had grabbed a long stick yet the only other person who’d also grabbed that weapon was in another group. For a second she thought no two people with the same weapon could join a group but that theory was proven wrong when two of the three people on a mat to her right were wielding long weirdly shaped swords.
Kiki felt a pang to her chest as the sounds of clashing metal and laboured breathing filled the room. Every single recruit looked deadly serious as they moved with ease. To her left one of the older recruits wielding a pair of knives fought the girl who’d been slapped, now wielding one of the straight, thin swords. The fight almost looked like a dance but the older recruit was leading. Even with the girl having the advantage of distance with her longer weapon the tiny splotches of red on the girl’s body multiplied by the minute.
Kiki resisted the urge to fidget as she watched the fight unfold. When a particularly brutal hit caused a steady stream of blood to flow from the girl’s arm she tore her gaze away from the scene, her stomach churning at the combined scent of blood and sweat now filling the room.
Her eyes flicked to the girl with the French braids next. Her staff was a flurry of precise movement as she opposed a lanky boy with a sword. She watched as the boy swung but his movements didn’t seem to have a real target in mind and the girl easily sidestepped, hitting him in the side with her stick.
The girl was clearly focussed as she moved with the grace of a predator. Kiki wondered if the league had made her this way or if the woman’s past had already forced her into this role. She seemed ahead of the other recruits in her training yet there was something distinctly human in the way she interacted that she hadn’t seen with any of the other hooded figures she’d interacted with. Not even Nyssa had the kindness in her eyes that this woman carried.
As one of the hooded men barked a sharp order in Arabic her gaze shifted to another mat, this one with two men fighting each other. This fight was particularly ruthless, she noticed, as one of the men used the hilt of his sword to produce the sickening crunch that could only mean a broken nose. The resounding crack sent a shiver down her spine as the hooded figure gave an approving nod at the move.
At the same time a sickening smack sounded from the other side of the room as the other hooded man hit a boy’s side so hard he fell. The hooded man didn’t seem to care, nor did the boy’s opponent as he took advantage of the situation by slicing the other boy’s leg open. She couldn’t fathom how the boy didn’t cry out in pain as he swiftly got to his feet again, the wound steadily releasing a dribble of blood down his leg.
She looked at Nyssa again, knowing her face must be impossibly pale. She had goosebumps all over and she felt like she was gonna puke any second now if she didn’t get out of here. “Nyssa,” she choked out, her voice soft and small.
The woman’s eyes snapped to hers, brows furrowing and jaw clenching ever so slightly as she subtly shook her head.
“Da’eefa,” a booming voice cut through the silent exchange. Kiki’s head snapped to the owner of the voice, the same man who had defied Nyssa earlier. She didn’t need to know Arabic to recognize the disdain in the man’s voice, his cold eyes trained on her as he spoke the word.
“Tata’allam,” Nyssa replied evenly, her jaw clenching betraying her temper with the man in front of her. She wasn’t sure if Nyssa was defending her or just shitting the man up but in this moment either would be good, as long as the woman didn’t leave her at the man’s mercy.
“hatta tahammul tadreeb al-mujannideen. Lan takoon qadiratan ‘ala al-qatl abadan.” The man all but snarled at her as he said the sentence. She knew the man could easily kill her for showing weakness yet she couldn’t help her eyes flickering to Nyssa once more, hating that she had no clue what was being said.
Nyssa’s eyes flashed dangerously, her voice dropping into a steely calm. “Satakoon qadiratan.” The woman took a deliberate step closer, her words sharp and final. “Sa’atakid min dhalik.”
The woman didn’t wait for an answer, or even an acknowledgment from the man as she turned to Kiki. “You will not falter. Not here, not ever,” the woman told her, her voice filled with authority and eyes holding hers with a quiet intensity. Kiki swallowed the lump in her throat as she nodded. “Understood.”
Kiki was the first to break eye contact, feeling Nyssa’s eyes on her as her own gaze swept over the recruits again. She willed her breaths to be steady and her face to be a mask as she looked right past the fighting recruits. She would survive, she would not falter, she would not show weakness.