Free Venture Unleashed (The Venture Books) by R.H. Russell

a cramp.”
    Venture panted, “I thought we were done.”
    “Change of plans. I want a five-minute round from you two.”
    “A little extra,” Dasher said. “Such a nice surprise. Let’s go, Champ.”
    “You’ll thank me when you’re in the arena.” Earnest pushed Venture out there. “When your match goes much longer than you thought it would. When your opponent is tired and done and you’re not.”
    Venture took his place across from Dasher. It would be a long time before Venture fought in the arena, but he could help Dasher get ready, even if it was just by being another body willing to give him one more round.
    A minute or so into the round, Dasher shot in on Venture’s legs, but Venture blocked it, locked his arms around Dasher’s neck, stuck his foot out, and swept him sideways, onto his back. Venture hustled up onto his toes, squeezing his arms and pushing all his weight down toward Dasher’s head.
    Dasher tapped, and Venture stood up, stunned. Dasher looked up at him from the mat and grinned—a grin that said, Nice job , but also, Now I have to make you pay .
    Venture smiled back and helped him up. Let him make him pay. He’d just tapped Dasher Starson out for the first time. A little pain was worth it, and maybe, just maybe, he’d even manage to do it again.
    From the matside, Lance and Nick murmured their appreciation. A couple of the other fighters who were lingering matside, just kids who liked to watch the men fight, cheered for him. Earnest gave a low whistle and tossed the sand timer aside.
    “Who cares about the time?” he said. “Keep at it.”
    Venture fought on, chest burning, head and heart pounding as one, but he’d already poured all his energy into the first few minutes, and this was Dasher, ever tireless. Dasher, shutting down everything he attempted, with precision and strength just as fresh as when they’d started. It was nothing but agony now. Come on, Earnest , he begged silently, but Venture wouldn’t quit until he was told, because he wouldn’t give up, but also out of respect for Earnest.
    Dasher pulled his fist back mercifully just before it met Venture’s face. “Come on, Champ. Keep your hands up. You’re getting sloppy.”
    Of course he was getting sloppy. He was exhausted. Come to think of it, he was always sloppy compared to Dasher. He’d never have Dasher’s stamina, his technique. One tap-out didn’t change that. Venture tried anyway. His arms were so tired. Dasher grasped his body and tried to throw him backward. Venture threw his legs out behind him, bracing himself in order not to fall.
    But then, Dasher released Venture and turned abruptly toward the door of the training room. It thrust open with a great creak-swish. The thump of boots and the shuffle of shoulder against shoulder followed, then the bang of the door. Six pairs of muddy boots strode onto the mat, leaving smears of grime behind them. They stopped. A cluster of young men, dirty and dingy, stood, fists on their hips. Their eyes gleamed with the possibility of putting them to use. There was a swagger even in their stillness. A wordless challenge.
    Dasher and Venture moved beside Calling, who stood calmly, staring the group down.  
    “Local ruffians,” Calling said. He slipped his thick hands back into his leather gloves. “Formed their own gang because they weren’t good enough or didn’t want the rules and structure of a real fighting center.” He tightened the laces, then clapped his hands together, a different sort of gleam in his eye. “A good beating will do them good.”
    “Swords, Dash?” Earnest called from the matside, ready to run for them.
    “You armed, boys?” Calling said to the challenging men.
    They opened their shirts and lifted up their pant legs to show him.
    “No swords!” Dasher concluded. Then, under his breath, “Just a little fun.”
    Earnest, Lance, and Nick joined the others on the mat, ready to fight alongside them.
    “What do you want?” Calling