by Evan Winter
“Mercy,” Hadith grumbled.
Tau stepped back. It had gone better this time. His sword brothers had not taken on the faces of demons. That had been happening more often of late. He thought to take time away from Isihogo, to settle his mind, but brushed the unworthy idea away. It was his cowardice speaking.
“Uduak,” Jayyed said, “join Hadith, Yaw, and Chinedu. Try not to embarrass yourselves.”
Uduak stood beside Hadith, who had regained his feet. Yaw picked up his helmet, shook the dust from it, stretched his neck, and returned it to his head. Chinedu coughed.
“Fight!” Jayyed yelled.
Hadith went down first, Chinedu was next, Tau knocked Yaw unconscious, unintentionally, and then there was Uduak. He was big and he was a demon, horns on his head. Tau had to blink away the vision as they crossed blades. It happened fast. Thrust, swing, block, riposte, move, strike, strike, strike, and Uduak was down.
The big man eyed Tau. “Mercy.”
Tau sheathed his swords and stepped back. The rest of the scale was watching.
“Impossible,” muttered Anan.
Jayyed did not speak. Tau could feel the older man’s eyes on him, though. They held a question he would not ask and one Tau would not have answered. Their relationship had been strained since they’d fought.
“A circuit around the yards. Go!” Jayyed told the scale and, with some groaning, the men began to run. Tau went with the rest but saw Anan sidle over to Jayyed to speak to him.
“I know you work hard, very hard,” said Hadith, running beside Tau, “but how are you doing this?”
“Demon,” said Uduak, the word making Tau stumble.
Hadith noticed. “Tau is a demon?”
“Inside,” Uduak answered.
“That makes no sense,” said Hadith. “But I’ll be happy to see you try some of your newfound gift on the Indlovu. If we win the next skirmish, we qualify for the Queen’s Melee.”
“Another circuit!” Anan told them, receiving more groans.
“This is it. Everything!” Themba said, running up. “An Ihashe scale hasn’t placed in the Queen’s Melee since before our fathers squirted us into our mothers.”
“Too much,” grumbled Uduak.
“He’s not wrong. We can make history,” said Hadith.
“We will,” Tau said.
“One more time round,” Anan called, this time to audible curses. The aqondise glared at everyone and Tau sprinted ahead of Hadith, Uduak, and Themba. He was done talking. The next skirmish was ten days out. He would have to train harder, he thought, blinking away the demon he saw standing in the shadow of the isikolo’s closest wall.
The days that followed blurred. Tau woke, he fought, he ate, he fought, he slept, he fought, he ate, he fought, he died, he died, he died. He’d never been talkative but spoke less. He stopped shaving, growing stubble on his face and head, like a Drudge or, worse, a hedeni. His bathing habits slipped until Chinedu complained and Jayyed’s five dragged him to the baths. Tau thought that memory real, the bath, though he couldn’t swear to it.
He also saw visions with increasing frequency and worried he might be losing his mind. He couldn’t give in to that thinking. It was an excuse to avoid Isihogo. It was fear and he would not let it rule him.
The time for the next skirmish came and went. The match was postponed as initiates from both the Indlovu Citadel and Northern Ihashe Isikolo were sent to the Northern Mountains on patrol. It was beyond unusual to use initiates in actual combat against the hedeni, but they were unusual times. The hedeni were attacking with frequency and in force. It was all anyone could speak of during the evening meals. Tau let the conversations about the expanding war flow over him, the only salient detail being the postponed skirmish.
Still, he was not deaf and could not help but hear the constant chatter about the military’s recent defeats. In the Wrist, almost five hundred men lost their lives to a hedeni assault. That was an entire military wing gone, and the hedeni had, in that single push, moved the front lines of the century-and-a-half-long war deep into territory traditionally held by the Omehi.
They had attempted to push farther but General Tiwa, a commanding officer of the Bisi Rage, had split his force, sending two military dragons, almost three thousand men, to hold the line as he continued to fight in the southern passes of the Wrist.
The gossip in the mess hall was that the hedeni were starving, that they had to push into the semi-arable lands of the Wrist or die. That did not sound right to Tau. He would have asked Jayyed about it, maybe, but Jayyed was not there.
The sword master had been called away by the Guardian Council. The rest of the scale were proud of this. Their umqondisi was needed by the highest military powers of the Omehi. Perhaps, the rumors went, the Guardian Council would reinstate him as one of its permanent advisers.
Tau did not know. These things meant nothing when pitted against his need to win the next skirmish. They marched to the Crags on the morrow, and the fight would either qualify or disqualify Scale Jayyed from the Queen’s Melee. Tau had to win.
BLOOD
Scale Jayyed had the highest ranking in both the Southern and Northern Isikolo, and they were about to fight Umqondisi Osinachi’s Indlovu. Scale Osinachi had done well all cycle but had taken a couple of brutal losses to other Indlovu. As it stood, the winner of the skirmish would enter the Queen’s Melee, eliminating their opponent’s chances to do the same.
Tau was lined up with the rest of his scale on the edge of the desert battleground in the Crags. An aqondise from the Northern Isikolo had the war horn to his lips. He blew it and the battle began. Tau ran with his scale for the nearest dune that could offer cover. If they beat the Nobles, they were in the Queen’s Melee. The Queen’s Melee was where he would face Kellan again.
Hadith, crouched beside him, swore as he peeked over the dune. “Char to ashes!”
“What?” asked Yaw.
“They have their Enervator near the center of the battleground. She’s standing on top of the tallest dune with four Indlovu. The rest of the scale is hidden.”
“Then we send men to take her out?” asked Yaw.
“Yes,” drawled Hadith. “That’s exactly what they hope we’ll do.”
“Well,” said Themba, “we remove her or she blasts half of us out of the game when the fighting starts.”
Tau ground a handful of the dune’s sand through his fingers. “They murdered Oyibo in a skirmish.”
Themba shot Tau a look. “What?”
“This is no game.”
Hadith nodded. “We remember Oyibo, Tau. But, for now, we need to know where the rest of Scale Osinachi are, before we do anything.”
“No, we don’t,” Tau told Hadith. “Give me a team. We’ll crawl around, get behind the Enervator, and attack. If we hit hard enough, she’ll have to waste her enervation on the six of us.”
“Weren’t you listening?” Themba said. “There’s four Indlovu with her. She won’t need to hit you with anything. The Indlovu will do the hitting.”
Tau glared at Themba. “You think they’ll stop me?”
“You think no one can?” Themba countered.
Hadith eyed Tau, clicking his tongue. “Right. Do it. Take Uduak, Yaw, Muvato, Duma, and Themba.”
Themba started. “Why me?”
“Because I want to see you fight four Indlovu.”
“Not interested in dying today,” Themba said, but he moved closer to Tau, along with the other men Hadith had assigned to the team.
Hadith outlined the plan. “We hold until Tau’s team launches the attack. If we stay hidden the Indlovu will do the same. When they see Tau’s six men against four of theirs, they’ll think the fight over before it begins. They won’t reinforce and risk revealing their positions.” Hadith spoke faster, becoming excited. “Tau, for this to work, we need the Enervator to hit your team. We can’t attack until her powers are spent.”
Tau nodded to Hadith. He wanted the scale to feel confident. He wan
ted his words to be bold. “Be ready. It’ll happen fast,” he said as he began crawling toward the battlefield’s center.
“Always does,” Tau heard Themba grumble.
It took a quarter span, crawling to the battleground’s center, but they’d done it and Tau’s team was next to the dune on which the Enervator stood. Tau pointed, indicating they should go farther, the men nodded, and the six slunk to the opposite side of the man-made knoll.
The plan was to attack from the rear, from the side closer to the Indlovu’s starting point. The Indlovu wouldn’t expect an attack from that angle, and the surprise might gain them a few steps. Those few steps could mean the difference between getting to the Enervator and getting blasted.
Tau signaled his men to be ready. They’d round the last bend and charge the dune, engaging the Indlovu and beating them, forcing the Enervator to hit them with her powers or surrender. Whatever she chose to do, it would keep her out of the skirmish for its most critical phase. Hadith and the rest of the scale would attack and it would be fighters versus fighters, no gifts. It was as even as a group of Lessers could make combat against Nobles. A simple plan, a good plan, and it burned to ash.
Tau crawled forward into three Indlovu, also on their stomachs, who looked as surprised as he was. They must have had a similar plan, initiate a small attack and force the other side’s hand. Given how little progress they’d made in their crawl, they’d come up with the plan long after Hadith.
The Indlovu closest to Tau leapt to his feet. “Blood will show!” he yelled, pulling his sword free of its scabbard.
Tau did the same, thinking it strange Nobles had their own war cry and that, even when the Omehi fought as one military, the Nobles still sought to make themselves more.
Blood will show. The words tumbled in Tau’s mind as he spun his dual practice blades. The words were a promise to the enemy. More, he thought, it was a reminder to Lessers that Nobles were different, that the purity of their blood would reveal itself through their deeds as well as their caste.
Blood will show? Blood, Tau wanted to say, will flow deep and heavy like a flooding river, but there was no time. His swords had crossed with the Indlovu’s.
The Noble was taller and much thicker than Tau, which put him in line with a small demon. He, with his shining helm, ornate practice sword, and sand-spattered shield, attacked hard, meaning to sweep Tau aside like a blade of grass in a breeze. Tau slipped past the man’s crescent swing and brought both his swords against the Indlovu’s helm. It sounded like a thunderclap and the Noble stiffened and fell.
Tau engaged the next citadel warrior before the first had hit the sand. The second was cautious. As Tau came within range, he raised his shield. Tau swung with both blades, his double strike clanging on the circle of beaten metal. The Indlovu stabbed out below his shield, aiming to ram his dulled blade into Tau’s gut. Expecting it, Tau turned the bronze away with his weak-side sword while swinging with the other, hard enough to break the Noble’s leg. The citadel fighter dropped with a yell and Tau launched himself at the third man, who turned and ran.
Tau gave chase.
“No!” shouted Uduak.
Blood will show. The words banged around in Tau’s head as he ran down the Indlovu. Blood will show. Like dried sticks, he would break their pride on the blade of his sword, he would… Tau skidded to a halt. Including the running man, who had stopped running, eight Indlovu faced Tau. They had come around the dune, and by the time he’d seen them, it was too late.
Tau shot a look up the sandy hill. The Enervator and her four were gone. He looked behind. Uduak, Yaw, Themba, and Muvato were fighting three Indlovu.
Tau counted. Two down, three behind, eight in front. It meant five Indlovu, and the Enervator, were unaccounted for. They would go for Hadith. It had been Tau’s job to stop her. He’d failed and she’d be free to unleash her gift on the rest of his scale.
Tau lowered his swords and heard laughter. It was the Indlovu who had run from him.
“We’ve heard of you, Common,” he said. “We heard you played swords with Kellan Okar. How did that go?” He laughed again. “Probably better than this will.”
The eight men closed in, the laughing Indlovu smirking, and from the looks on their Noble faces, Tau knew the Goddess’s mercy would mean nothing. Their war cry tossed around in his head, “Blood will show.” The words held more than one meaning. Tau raised his swords, bared his teeth, and told the eight Indlovu the truth. “I have come for you, and I bring Isihogo with me.”
He charged. The laughing man was closest. He was also the most prepared. Tau closed the distance between them, the laugher swung, and Tau darted outside the arc of his blade, crossing his swords in an X and leaping on the Indlovu behind the laugher.
The collision knocked the second man back, and Tau’s blades fell on either side of his neck, beneath the protection of his helm and above his leather armor. Tau sliced as hard as he could, the dulled edges of his swords drawing cuts just above the man’s collarbones. The Indlovu’s neck spurted blood and he screamed, dropping his weapons and grabbing for his throat.
Tau spun into the next man, hoping to take him down before the seven remaining Indlovu could encircle him. This Indlovu was staring, slack-jawed, at the blood pulsing from his sword brother’s neck. Tau stabbed him as hard as he could. His practice sword could not pierce the Indlovu’s thick leather armor, but the strike was vicious and Tau felt the man’s ribs break. The Indlovu stumbled and Tau, sensing danger, spun again, whipping his sword around. He missed the laugher, who had come from behind, but Tau carried through with his spin’s momentum, catching the one with the broken ribs in the side of the head and sending him flying into the dirt.
The laugher traded his smile for heavy attacks that came with surprising speed. Tau blocked three of the man’s cuts, saw him pause, knew he was being baited, and ducked. A sword whizzed over Tau’s head and he backpedaled, slamming his elbows into his unseen attacker’s chest. The attacker wheezed and Tau stood to his full height as fast as he could, smashing the top of his head into the man’s chin. He heard the Indlovu’s teeth click together and Tau’s head was spattered with sticky wetness. Tau broke away from the man and faced him, ready to continue the fight.
The Indlovu had bitten off the tip of his tongue and his mouth was a soup of blood. Tau went for him, punching the pommel of his sword into the man’s throat stone. He gurgled, reeled back, and collapsed, as Tau was struck from behind.
Tau spun. It was the laugher. Tau caught the man’s follow-up, but his back burned from the cut he’d taken. The laugher struck again; Tau blocked and was hit on the helmet by one of the other Indlovu. He staggered, then threw a shoulder at the nearest man, trying to break free of the circle in which they’d trapped him. The Indlovu he ran into was as solid as a mountain, and he pushed Tau back.
With no choice but a bad one, Tau moved to the center of the five men surrounding him. The laugher pointed to someone behind Tau and waved the rest forward. Tau spun, blocking the jab aimed for his spine, spun again to stop a head strike, and barely blocked a third blade, arcing for his neck, with the tip of his weak-side sword.
He leapt forward, engaging the laugher, slicing the bastard across the cheek before the Noble could totter out of reach. He whirled to engage the next man and was hit from behind and cut on the calf as the five Indlovu took turns harrying him or fighting defensively, avoiding injury while keeping him trapped between them.
He roared, spinning this way and that, crossing swords with any who came close, taking cuts on his arms and legs and bleeding from everywhere. They couldn’t get a clean hit, but they had him penned in and it was only a matter of time.
The laugher, blood and sweat streaming down the side of his face, smiled. “Kill him,” he said and all five attacked.
HISTORY
With no chance to beat them all, Tau went for the laugher. The Noble tried to block but wasn’t fast enough, and Tau’s sword smashed into the wrist on his shield arm,
breaking it, twisting the man’s smile into a wide-mouthed scream.
Tau pushed on, his other sword lashing out, taking the laugher in the same cheek he’d cut earlier, this time splitting it like a tent’s flaps. The Noble fell back and Tau had his escape. He took a step, was hit on the back of the head, saw stars, and found himself on his knees. He tried to stand but was kicked to the ground. He rolled, was kicked again, and a dull blade hammered into his side.
Pain blossoming, Tau tried to scrabble away. He’d lost one of his swords. Could see it. It was a few strides distant. His head was pounding, making it hard to think. He needed his sword, crawled for it, and was kicked back to the dirt.
Nothing left and tasting copper on his tongue, he rolled to his back, looking up at a cloudless sky. The hot sand burned him through the worn patches in his gambeson, and he lay there panting, somehow finding the energy to turn his head and spit blood as the silhouettes of four Indlovu moved to stand over him.
He squinted, trying to see their features past the brightness of the day. He reached for his remaining sword. It was gone.
He’d done well, though, he thought. There had been eight at the start, eight Indlovu in leather armor. And the one with a missing tongue tip, he’d never speak properly again.
“Kill him!” shrieked the laugher from somewhere beyond the four Indlovu. “Kill him!”
“To the Cull with you,” Tau said, his words coming out slurred, making him think the hit to the head had been worse than it felt. He saw a sword rise into the air and kept his eyes open, watching it. He’d died before, he thought, trying to convince himself that doing it one last time wasn’t special.
“The world burns!” came a shouted mishmash of voices, and the sword, raised above him, came down and into a defensive position.
The four silhouettes closed in around Tau, and he tried to sit, to see what was happening. He couldn’t move, though, not with his skull throbbing itself to pieces. He turned his head, seeing stuttering afterimages as he did, seeing the shuffling of Indlovu feet, seeing their heels. They had turned their backs to him.
