The Rage of Dragons

by Evan Winter

  “Seriously,” Tau said. He disarmed Hadith, stabbing him in the chest.

  Hadith rubbed at the spot, working out the bruise. He picked up his sword and squared up. “I am serious. The whole scale thinks you’re Tsiory born again.”

  Hadith shoved his shield at Tau’s face and swung his blade at his waist. Tau used one sword to clear the shield, his other blocked Hadith’s swing, and he used a front kick to push Hadith back, making space.

  “Because of one skirmish?” Tau said.

  Hadith lunged; Tau stepped aside, dodging, and smacked Hadith across the back. Hadith went sprawling into the dirt.

  Sitting up and spitting out loose soil, he said, “Do you know how good I am?”

  “What?”

  “I can beat almost every man in Scale Jayyed, and Scale Jayyed is the best in the Southern Ihashe Isikolo, likely the best in both academies.”

  Tau shrugged. They should be among the top initiates. They trained harder than the others.

  “Tau,” Hadith said, “you could kill me with one hand strapped to your back.”

  “I have to be this way.”

  “As you say, but did you not see Oyibo’s face when he sparred with you?” Hadith asked.

  Tau waited, thinking Hadith didn’t truly expect him to answer.

  “He fought you like you were an Enraged Ingonyama, like he’d do what he could but knew he had no hope.”

  “He doesn’t commit to his attacks as much as he should and needs to work on his speed.”

  “After Runako, Oyibo is our fastest blade. By the Goddess, why do you think Jayyed offered him a spot with us? Why do you think I sent him with you to hold the path in the skirmish against the Indlovu?”

  Tau considered this.

  “Oyibo is an incredible fighter,” Hadith said, “and he spars you like a child hoping to learn from his father.”

  Tau remembered what it had been like to spar Aren. His father had seemed like a god, able to dodge, predict, and counter, with a patient smile and ready words of encouragement.

  “You don’t know what it’s like.” Hadith stood, brushing dirt from his gambeson. “We all work hard, but you get here earlier than the rest of us and stay later. All of us want to be better, but there needs to be balance. I find the time to laugh, play, drink. I find the time to… Tau, it’s like you live for this and nothing else.”

  Tau grimaced. “The mistake is in thinking you have time for the rest.”

  “We don’t? We don’t have the time to live? Only for war?”

  “The sword, the learning, the improvement, it’s a means to an end.”

  “You want to kill hedeni so badly?”

  Tau didn’t answer.

  “Or someone else? You train like you want to become an Ingonyama.”

  “We can’t,” Tau said. “Our blood is too weak.”

  “Then the Goddess gives our enemy hope. I’m on your side and shudder to think of you as an Ingonyama.”

  “I’ll fight an Ingonyama,” a voice behind Tau said. “I’ll fight anyone.”

  Tau turned and was smiling before even laying eyes on Uduak. “Big man.”

  “Little demon,” Uduak returned, making Tau wince. “I am here for a rematch.”

  Behind Uduak were Jayyed and Anan. They were smiling too, though Anan looked gray and bleary-eyed. The jugs of masmas from the night before still had their claws in him.

  “Whenever you want,” Tau told Uduak, moving to hug the oversized Common.

  Uduak seemed surprised at Tau’s embrace. Tau was surprised at himself. Uduak clapped him painfully on the back and, both a little embarrassed, they stood apart.

  “Well met,” Tau said.

  “Well met, Tau Solarin,” Uduak said.

  “If you two require privacy…” Hadith whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, making Chinedu do his coughing laugh. Yaw chuckled and Oyibo looked lost.

  “Yes, yes, well met, all,” Jayyed said, traces of his smile playing along the edges of his mouth. “Let’s begin.”

  Jayyed’s five were once again Jayyed’s six, and they worked until the rest of the scale joined them and then trained with them until the sun set.

  They ate and Tau came out to continue training. Oyibo, Yaw, and Uduak came too. Hadith stayed behind with the rest of the scale, doing as Hadith did, talking with the men, making jokes, being a friend they could trust.

  It made him a good leader, the way he dealt with his sword brothers. Tau admired it and thought Hadith might be right. Life was about balance. Tau decided he’d work on it.

  By the next morning he’d forgotten his decision to live a balanced life. Over the next moon cycle he spent every waking span in the practice yards and every night tossing in his bed. He tried to feel guilty about how distant he was with the rest of the men. He tried to get the demons out of his head so he could sleep. He failed both ways and chose to fixate on what was ahead, to keep himself sane.

  The scale had to win their next skirmish. A victory gave them a chance at the Queen’s Melee. A spot in the melee gave them a chance to skirmish against Scale Osa, Kellan’s scale, and Tau wanted that more than anything.

  If Tau could fight Kellan, he could kill him on the battlefield and claim it as an accident. The Omehi would think it a tragic and shameful end to such a promising Noble, dying at the hands of a Lesser. But there could be no punishment. Every cycle men died in the melee. Every cycle.

  Tau told himself this was why he trained so hard. It was for revenge. He told himself that he didn’t love every span of it, because his path should not involve pleasure, satisfaction, or joy. It was about hate and pain and rage. But he did love it, the training, the sparring, the sword.

  Hadith thought differently. He wanted time to live life, to play games, but their world was at war and that meant the sword was life. It meant fighting was the only game. And, in the upcoming skirmish, Tau intended to prove how good a player he was.

  MERCY

  It was the hottest day of the cycle and things were not going well. The skirmish had already lasted longer than most, and more than half of Scale Jayyed was still in play, as well as two-thirds of the citadel warriors. They were fighting on the mountain battleground, which favored the Indlovu, who could use the rocky terrain to avoid taking fights with odds worse than three to one.

  Jayyed’s six had been reduced to four—Hadith, Uduak, Oyibo, and Tau. Yaw had been disabled by the Enervator’s first blast and knocked unconscious by the Indlovu follow-up. Chinedu had gone down a few moments later, trying to rally near a choke point where several Indlovu had sheltered. The skirmish had become hit-and-run among the diminutive cliffs of the battleground, and Hadith was loath to commit his men to a full assault.

  Tau knew he was worried about the Enervator. They hadn’t isolated her position and it had been more than half a sun span since she’d fired off a blast. She’d be ready to use her gift again.

  “We can’t stay out here all day,” Tau told Hadith as he slicked a river of sweat from his brow. They were crouched behind an outcropping of rock, looking up. Twenty strides away, several Indlovu were entrenched in an improvised stronghold of boulders. Tau couldn’t be sure how many others were there, or if the Enervator was with them.

  “I know,” muttered Hadith.

  “We have to do something.”

  “Like what? Call dragons out my ass?”

  “Calm,” rumbled Uduak.

  “She has to be up there,” Hadith said. “She has to be.”

  “But if she’s not, and we go in…,” said Runako with his paper-thin voice.

  Hadith shook his head. “She’s there. I can feel it. Get ready, everyone. Three prongs. I’ll lead middle, Tau takes left, Uduak right.”

  It was dangerous. If the assault didn’t work, they’d lose too many men to win the skirmish.

  “Goddess go with you,” Hadith said.

  “If She’s not already with them,” Themba whispered, as the three prongs arranged themselves.

  Oy
ibo glared at Themba, cowing the talkative initiate and then glancing at Tau for approval. Tau nodded. Oyibo’s idolization was a little awkward, but he was a good fighter and Tau would exchange any amount of awkwardness for that.

  Tau saw Hadith check the position of the three prongs. They were in place. Tau would stream up the left side of the hill with eight other men, Hadith would charge the center, and Uduak the right. It was a simple plan. Tau hoped that would count for something.

  Hadith raised an eyebrow at Tau. Tau pointed a finger toward the Indlovu. He wanted to go.

  “Where we fight!” Hadith shouted.

  “The world burns!” bellowed the twenty-seven remaining Lessers of Scale Jayyed as they rose from their redoubt and streamed up the hill. They were spread out far enough that the Enervator could not get them all, if she was there.

  She was. Tau saw her stand from behind one of the larger rocks and raise her arms in his direction.

  “Cek!” yelled Tau as the wave of enervation struck him, hurling his spirit into Isihogo.

  The wind’s howl was deafening, the sky dark, and Tau’s blood ran cold as he imagined all the horrible things that could be hiding behind the rocks. He looked back at his men. The collective glow from the other eight fighters was blinding, and they had been noticed.

  Demons, misshapen and terrible, emerged from the mists. They keened and bayed, predators on the hunt. Tau heard men wail in fear, their voices muted by whatever forces controlled this place. Many cowered and some broke, running for their lives, as if there was anywhere to run. Tau gritted his teeth, thinking, If you’re already in the underworld, don’t stop there. He pulled his swords and charged, heart hammering and filled with blinding fear.

  “The world burns!” he roared as he ran into and right through the lead demons, emerging into the bitter heat, harsh sunlight, and divine blessing that was Uhmlaba. He stumbled, almost fell, and tried to right himself, but the world spun in a dizzying wobble as he spotted and struggled to hold his eyes on the stunned Enervator standing just a few steps ahead.

  She had lowered her arms and was staring at Tau in disbelief. He looked back at the way he’d come. His prong was a shambles, not a single man up. Oyibo was closest, but on his knees, head bowed, chest heaving.

  The Enervator’s blast had been particularly brief. It was her duty to release them before the demons attacked, but she’d gone too far the other way. Tau’s lesson with Zuri, learning how to let his soul slip to the underworld, had made the Enervator’s forced transition less stupefying. She’d weakened but not broken him.

  He shook his head, hoping to tear loose the last hooks the journey to Isihogo had on him. His mind was a muddle, but he knew enough to run for the Enervator, making it her turn to cower. He managed several strides and was almost on her when two Indlovu, the Nobles assigned to guard her, rose from behind the boulders, greeting him with bronze.

  Tau slashed at the nearest man, his attack premature, clumsy, a result of his time in Isihogo. The Indlovu blocked and the second Noble swung for Tau’s head. His instincts saved him. Tau dropped to his knees and the sword his body told him was coming whistled overhead.

  Tau smacked his weak-side blade into his attacker’s calf and was rewarded when the man yelped. Tau stabbed up and forward, aiming for the groin of the first man in a move that would disembowel had his practice blade possessed anything resembling a true point. The Indlovu blocked the strike and Tau sprang to his feet, pressing him further.

  The Indlovu’s eyes, deep set beneath a heavy brow, shone, and the man was grinning. He’s enjoying this, Tau thought, noticing that the Enervator was scrambling away. He needed to get to her, fast.

  No time to waste, he sent his blades spinning in attack after attack, showering himself and the grinning Noble with sparks. The man’s smile slipped as he struggled to weather Tau’s storm. Then it returned.

  Tau leapt to the side. He wasn’t fast enough. The other Indlovu, the one behind him, cracked him in the shoulder. The blow had been aimed for his neck. Not that it mattered, much.

  The strike fired a wave of pain down Tau’s arm, sent his strong-side sword flying down the hill, and knocked him to the ground. Certain they weren’t done with him yet, Tau rolled and avoided getting his face stomped by a boot. He darted to his feet and both men were on him.

  He tried to keep them away. He tried to regain his momentum. He was down a sword, Isihogo sick, and defending against two citadel-trained men. He was losing.

  The grinning Noble was beaming now, sweat dripping down his thick brow and tongue flicking out to catch it. The other Noble, even limping, was quick. He looked like a lizard with his widespread eyes and thick, long nose.

  Tau swore he would not lose to the sweat licker and lizard face, and the fighting began in earnest. He took a glancing but painful hit to the side, when he had to choose between accepting that and risk taking a blow that might break his arm. Soon after, he was doubled over when he chose a thrust over a riposte that threatened to disarm him.

  Short on breath, he sprang back and straightened. Both Indlovu were swinging, and he blocked the blade coming for his chest, accepting, in trade, the sloppy backswing aimed for his helmet. The last was a mistake.

  The blow to the head stunned Tau, and he stumbled away, tripping over loose rocks. He was in pain. His breathing was ragged. He could not last much longer.

  Common sense told him to run. He’d already lost sight of the Enervator, and she was his reason for facing the two Indlovu. But Tau stayed. He would not run from Nobles.

  They came at him together, swinging hard enough to cripple. Tau defended as best he could, yelling with frustration and anger. He could not turn the fight around. He took two more heavy hits and came close to going down.

  The attackers moved to his sides, making it impossible for him to defend against both. They’d be able to circle him and beat him to the ground. Tau hissed at them, striking out this way and that. The sweat licker smirked like he knew the world’s best joke, and, as one, they pounced.

  Tau was hit twice, his sword almost taken out of his hand, and he took a shield to the face. His nose didn’t break, but blood gushed from it anyway.

  He’d let them kill him before he’d beg for the Goddess’s mercy.

  “Where we fight!” a voice screamed, startling the sweat-drinking Indlovu as he was tackled. It was Oyibo.

  Tau had a chance. “The world burns!” he shouted, remounting his offense against lizard face, who squawked in dismay at having to deal with Tau one-on-one.

  Lizard face was quick, precise. He reminded Tau of a larger Yaw, but Tau treated him with far less love than he would have his sword brother.

  He slashed a bright cut across the Indlovu’s face, darted back, giving himself enough room for a powerful cross-body swing, and pounded his blade into the man’s helmet. Lizard face went down like the bones had gone out of him.

  Tau spun, found his second sword, and snatched it, running to help Oyibo. Oyibo was on the ground, the sweat licker standing over him, sword up. Oyibo smiled at Tau; he’d saved him and made the upcoming fight an even one.

  “Goddess’s mercy,” Oyibo said, no shame in his voice. Tau would finish this one off.

  The sweat licker saw Tau coming and looked down at Oyibo.

  Oyibo’s smile vanished. “Mercy!” he said again, as the Indlovu brought his blade down, smashing Oyibo’s helmet and skull to pieces, killing him.

  Tau stopped dead. It didn’t make sense. The Indlovu pulled his gore-soaked blade from the mess that had been Oyibo’s face and raised the weapon at Tau.

  “He asked for mercy,” Tau said, trying to piece the world back together. “He asked for mercy.”

  The Indlovu, still standing over the body, grinned, and that made Tau attack. He knocked him to the ground, landing on top, and was on his feet first, firing strike after strike. The Noble tried to defend, but this was not a fight; it was an obliteration.

  Within the first few sword crosses, the smiling Noble lo
st his grin, his nostrils flaring like an animal driven to slaughter, his eyes rolling, desperate. “Goddess’s mercy! Goddess’ mercy! Stop, damn you! Stop!”

  Tau’s next swing broke the Noble’s arm, and the follow-up crashed into his head, knocking his helmet off and rendering him near senseless. Tau backhanded him with his sword’s pommel, tearing the man’s bottom lip to bits and bashing teeth from his mouth. The Noble staggered and Tau hammered a blade into his leg, fracturing his femur and dropping him to his knees.

  Tau raised his sword and the Noble tried to speak, blood flowing from his ruined mouth.

  “Merthy! Gawdeth merthy,” he managed to spit.

  MURDERER

  “Here’s my mercy!” Tau said, bringing his sword down and hitting bronze on bronze, hard enough to shake his bones. Uduak stood beside him, his oversized blade holding Tau’s killing blow aloft, a handspan above the Indlovu’s head.

  “Move!” Tau screamed at Uduak, the rage in him enough to make the big man take a step back.

  “No,” Uduak said. “They will kill you.”

  “He murdered Oyibo!” Tau told him, eyes blurring with tears. He hadn’t cried since Aren and didn’t want to now, but watching Oyibo die had made old wounds new again.

  “They will kill you,” Uduak repeated, using his blade to turn Tau’s aside.

  “Yeth. Merthy!”

  Uduak clubbed the kneeling Noble in the side of the head, knocking him unconscious, and Tau stumbled back, away from his beaten foe. He let his swords fall to the dirt and went to Oyibo, knelt beside the body of his sword brother, and cried.

  All around him was chaos. He heard the tumult, but it seemed a thing apart, a thing across a distance he could not traverse. He heard they had won. Uduak’s prong had bored through the Indlovu’s defenses with ease. Hadith’s prong had struggled until Uduak’s men joined them, helping them finish off the rest of the defenders.

  They’d found the Enervator. Not enough time had passed for her to manage a third attack. She’d surrendered and they had come to sweep up these last two Indlovu, her bodyguards. That was when they saw the skirmish’s true cost.