Birthright

by L. Fergus

  Kita rebounded, bounced off the stage wall, land on her back, and slid between Zidin’s legs, slashing the inside of his thighs. Gross. I wish he’d worn more than just a kilt. Using the last of her momentum, she rolled over her shoulder onto her feet. She swept both swords across the back of his calves and on the return across the back of his thighs. Zidin yelped in pain. It gave her a bit of satisfaction.

  Kita turned her sword’s momentum into a spin. Time slowed down, while her perception was razor sharp. She felt stronger as her swords sliced into Zidin’s massive back. The cuts were deep and marched up Zidin’s spine. Zidin fell to his knees, and Kita pulled back into a low crouch. The horrified faces around her told her what she needed to know.

  The duchess and the clan elders stared emotionless. There was a long pause before the clan elder awarded the cut and called the score.

  I told you I was the greatest.

  Kita stood and looked down on Zidin, lying face down. His face was swollen and turning dark purple and his back was lacerated with twenty parallel inch-deep cuts, half an inch apart. Some scratched the bone. The cuts on his legs were bleeding fast.

  Kita bent down to him. His eyes were glazed-over. She smiled and whispered, “Come on, you big baby. I didn’t quit, and you better not either. Get up and crawl like I did back to the healer because I’m not done with you yet.”

  Kita traced her canine with her tongue. A new glint came into Zidin’s eyes. Zidin’s clan elder motioned for her to move. He waved over Kita’s clan elder and two of the others. They set to work trying to stop the bleeding.

  Kita fixated on the blood on the floor. It looks so good.

  “We’re lucky she didn’t hit a major artery,” said a clan elder.

  Another replied, “No, I think we’re lucky she chose to miss them.”

  Kita giggled. Anatomy was a major lesson for assassins. Not only to be able to kill swiftly, but to cause pain with or without permanent damage. She looked from the pool of blood to her mother and glared. She ran a finger through the blood on the floor, put it in her mouth and sucked the blood from it as she walked to her end.

  Yum. Better than sex.

  The elders pulled Zidin to his feet. He looked weak but mustered enough strength to lift his sword and move under his own power. I bet you wish you’d chosen a smaller sword…Several people in the audience gave polite applause.

  Kita waited impatiently as Zidin took his place across the ring from her. He looks a little pale. Guess they can heal the wounds, but can’t put the blood back in. Kita giggled.

  Readies were called for and given. This time Zidin crept forward deliberately. Kita stopped when she was just out of his reach. He circled her.

  Kita let Zidin take two steps before she shrugged her shoulder in a feint. Zidin flinched and brought the sword into a block position. Kita lunged, slashing both his calves. As she retreated, she cut the inside of his knees.

  Kita circled Zidin, letting his nerves build. She feinted a high slash and Zidin flinched into a block. Kita turned the slash into a spin, putting her on his unguarded side, where she gave him four more gashes up his arm. Zidin was slow to respond, allowing her to spin again, putting two slashes across the back of his thighs. From the spin, she dropped into a roll and was outside of Zidin’s reach before he could react.

  The duchess pressed her lips together to control her disgust, amazement, and pity. This was no longer a fight. It’s a little boy pulling the legs off a grasshopper. Kita could end this anytime she wanted—she was making Zidin suffer.

  When did my daughter become so vindictive and full of rage? She’s only become worse as she’s aged. It must be something that happened when she was away. It can’t be Glen and Barb; they say she’s wonderful. In Champignon she’s busy dueling. She swore she was done killing people…Does it matter?

  Everything done today was supposed to make Kita’s swordsmanship legitimate, introduce her as a bright star on the rise, and heal old wounds. Instead, she was showing the world what a monster she and Priatt had raised.

  If I must unleash a monster on the world to be free, so be it.

  Kita tripped, and the audience gasped. The duchess wasn’t sure if she should be happy or horrified.

  Kita laughed to herself over the gasp. She had feinted astonishingly well. She hopped up in front of Zidin, in easy reach of his sword, looking confused.

  Zidin brought his sword back to make the final blow. Kita waited for him to commit. The massive sword came forward. Kita leaped into the path of his arms and thrust the tip of her dagger in his armpit. His arms slammed into her, sending her sideways. She dug her dagger into his chest and used it as an anchor to swing her legs up and over his shoulder. Releasing her dagger, she spun around his neck, coming to a stop with her legs wrapped around his head, her dagger pressed against his temple, and her longsword lying across her lap pressed against his throat.

  Zidin strained to keep his head off her blade. She didn’t wait for the cut to be called and didn’t care. It was over. Kita released her legs from around him. She gripped his shoulders, and performed a handstand. She held it for a few seconds, before releasing and kicking him between the shoulder blades. As Zidin fell forward, she slashed an X on his back. Zidin tried to catch himself with his hands, but his arms collapsed, and he landed hard on his face. Kita bounced off the ground, flipped, and landed on top of him, her swords an inch from her mark, ready to thrust.

  “STOP!” the duchess and several other clansmen yelled.

  “Call it! Before she kills him,” the duchess ordered the clan elder in charge of scoring.

  “Third cut to the initiate. Fighters return to your ends.”

  Hearing the score, Kita stepped off Zidin and hissed in his ear, “Consider this as an act of mercy. I swore if my tummy scarred because of you, I’d kill you. I want you to live in fear that I might come back to finish you.”

  Kita returned to her side. The crowd was on its feet in silence. Her father and brother looked pale. How much better am I than the two of you? The duchess and Angus approached from opposite directions.

  “Kita, what in the Crushing Depths was that?” the duchess hissed. “This was supposed to be a fight of combat skill and honor. Instead, you’ve made a mockery of it with your tumbling and butchery.”

  Kita glared at her mother. Then, her emotional energy evaporated, leaving her drained and weak. Her vision dimmed, and her hearing muffled.

  “Marie, don’t push the girl,” said Angus. “We’ve put a lot on her tonight. I wish you’d told me you were doing this. I’m sure I can make it work with Command, but they won’t like it.”

  “It’s hers now. I wash my hands of it.”

  “Is it fair to her?”

  “It’s her birthright.”

  “Did you explain what it means?”

  “She’ll learn soon enough.”

  “If you won’t, I will.”

  “Do what you must. It’s no longer my problem.”

  Kita fell. Angus grabbed her and steadied her.

  “Kita, are you alright?” said Angus.

  Kita looked at him with tears in her eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry, Angus. I think I’ve failed at being a legionnaire. Please don’t be mad at me.”

  Angus held her at arm’s length. “Why would I be mad? You’ve demonstrated the ideals I chose you for. Your combat skills are excellent. You fought bravely and with determination. Most importantly, you did what it took to win. I’m not sure where you learned your assassin form, but it is remarkable.”

  Kita smiled at him between sobs. Angus wrapped his arm around her and turned her away from the crowd.

  “Kita, an assassin?” the duchess snarled. “Angus, I know every major combat form and most of the minors, but I’ve never seen, heard, or read of anything like that. If it’s a true combat form, I think it would be well-documented.”

  “Not everything is documented, or allowed to be. The assassin form is a closely guarded secret, and this is a variant I’ve never
seen. I’ve no idea where Kita learned it, and I’m sure she is not going to tell us. Everyone here should be honored to witness it. Few who meet an assassin live to tell about it.”

  The duchess glowered. “If it is a form, it’s slaughter, and there is no honor in it.”

  “What we witnessed tonight was remarkable. The assassin’s form does not emphasize movement like Kita displayed. Normally, the thrust is the primary damager, not the slash. Tonight’s rules hampered her.”

  “If that was hampered, I don’t think I want to know what the results of the full form look like.”

  “Even more remarkable is she combined the assassin form with berserking.”

  “Berserking? What’s that?” Kita said as her sobs subsided.

  Angus gave her a quizzical look. “Berserking is found in a rare group of people throughout The Mass. Most don’t know they have it. Berserkers can channel their raw emotional energy and use it to boost their strength, perception, and agility.”

  The duchess looked harshly at Kita. “That doesn’t explain the carnage. She carved Zidin up like a stag.”

  Angus stepped between Kita and her mother. “Marie, stop. When berserkers come down, they are emotionally weak. Kita has no training, so the effects are even more severe. When Kita joins the Legion, I’ll see she gets the training she needs.”

  Kita sniffed, rubbed her eyes, and tried to compose herself.

  “Marie, Kita did nothing wrong,” said Angus. “She used a known combat form combined with natural talent. The two together led to a combustible mixture. She beat her challenger fairly. He simply wasn’t prepared for it, nor adapted to it.”

  The duchess sighed. “I see your point. I’ll need your help to explain it to the clan elders. The scorekeeper ruled Kita won, so she has passed the Proving Ritual and will gain entry to her guild, regardless. Some may protest, but having your support will undercut their objections.”

  “Of course, my lady, anything I can do to help.”

  Kita felt normal when the clan elder who coached her approached.

  “Chieftess, Zidin has recovered.”

  “Excellent. Tell the others we shall do the guild acceptance ritual as soon as everyone is lined up.”

  The clan elder shook his head. “Chieftess, Zidin requests an Honor Ritual.”

  “Is he crazy? I…damn. Go and bring him and the other clan elders here.”

  “Mother, what is an Honor Ritual?” said Kita.

  The duchess blew out her breath. “In Arcone honor is everything, it is who you are. One clansman may challenge another clansman if he feels the other has tarnished or stripped them of their honor in some way. It’s a serious charge, and the fight is to the death. I’m sure Zidin, like I did before, feels you beat him unfairly. When he gets over here don’t say anything. Angus and I will do the talking.”

  Zidin arrived looking ashen, his nose flatter, and a nasty red scar ran across the top of his chest.

  “Zidin, I understand you’ve a request to be put before myself and the elders?” said the duchess.

  “Yes, Chieftess. I challenge the initiate cheated, by using techniques not used in combat, and she violated the spirit and sanctity of the Proving Ritual. I demand an Honor Ritual to regain the honor she has stolen from me.”

  I did not cheat! I’m just better than you.

  The duchess kept her face rigid. “Elders, let me introduce you to Angus, Commander of the Legion of Yorq. He has expert knowledge of this matter. I shared a similar concern earlier, but he was able to enlighten me. Commander, if you please.”

  Angus repeated his explanation.

  “I agree her fighting skills are exceptional,” said Kita’s clan elder, “But I don’t see them used on a battlefield.”

  “If it can’t be used on the battlefield, it is useless,” said a clan elder speaking for Zidin.

  There are more places to fight than a battlefield.

  “I understand your concerns,” said the duchess, “but the consensus is her skills are appropriate for the battlefield, and she did pass the ritual. Your request is denied and your honor intact.”

  “She violated the spirit and sanctity of the ritual,” said the Zidin supporter. “The idea is to put clansman through their first combat experience, not see how much blood you can spill. She did it on purpose, multiple times, and you let the fight continue.”

  “I didn’t know this would happen,” said the duchess.

  “Then she fooled you and dishonored you.”

  “She was using her natural talent,” said Angus.

  “She’s dishonored all of us. She must fight.”

  Then he will lose.

  The duchess’ face remained emotionless. “What of the rest of you?”

  “There’s no denying she did it on purpose. I saw it in her eyes,” said Kita’s clan elder.

  Traitorous bastard.

  “We’re in agreement. She violated the Proving Ritual,” said the Zidin supporter.

  The duchess lowered her eyes with a hint of a frown. “The rules for the ritual are simple. You fight like you would on the battlefield. You can use any weapon or armor. Kita may use her assassin form.”

  “That’s not fair,” said the Zidin supporter.

  “We agreed her form is acceptable. She can use it,” the duchess said in a harsh tone.

  The duchess waved over the duke and Jeffrey, and brought them up on events.

  “You can’t do that here!” said the duke. “You shouldn’t be doing this at all. When the king hears of this, he’ll throw us from court.”

  “Priatt, I’m sorry. I will suffer whatever punishment the king gives alone. This was my choice; you knew nothing. I did it that way on purpose. It was supposed to be a quick show for our guests and then dinner. This has gone on longer than I anticipated.”

  “On a better note, Mother,” Jeffrey interjected, “everyone I’ve talked to tonight has been highly entertained.”

  “That’s good,” said the duchess. “I was afraid they might be getting upset. I need you and your father to stall until we get this sorted out.”

  The duke held up his hands. “Oh no, I’m not about to let you hold another bloodbath here. These are nobles, not your wild exotics. They don’t need to be exposed to your brutality.”

  “I don’t have a choice,” hissed the duchess. “They’ll do it right here and now if we stall too long.”

  “Then I am going to supervise. If I don’t like it, I’m stopping it immediately. I don’t care what you and your band of exotics believe.”

  The duchess muffled a snort.

  “I agree with Father,” said Jeffrey. “The more witnesses we have the better.”

  The duchess’ face was stern when she turned to Kita. “You’re the defender. You get to pick the location.”

  A plan formed in Kita’s head. “How about the stable? The lane is wide. There are a few guards, but they’re all Father’s. We can dismiss them.”

  The duchess nodded. “Sounds like an excellent idea. Jeffrey, you and your father go ahead and get it ready. The lane will work if it’s cleared.”

  Both men nodded and made their way to the side door.

  Suckers, every one of you.

  The duchess climbed to the top of the risers. “My lords and ladies, I hope you’ve enjoyed the events so far. Due to the ritual’s unusual length, the parties must change before the guild acceptance ritual. We have also sent for a cleaning crew.”

  A mild chuckle came from the gathered crowd.

  “In the meantime, please enjoy the music, food, and wine.”

  The crowd gave her polite applause and milled about. Kita put on her armor. When her mother finished, she waved Kita toward the door used by her father and brother. She went out a different door toward the living quarters.

  Outside, Kita caught up with Jeffrey and pulled him aside.

  “Jeffrey, I need you to go find Sabatha and bring her here.”

  “You think you might need her?” said her brother, amused.
<
br />   “Not for me, for Zidin. Now, go.”

  Jeffrey nodded and hurried to find the cleric without a backward glance.

  The stable was a large building, holding the warhorses, draft animals, and pleasure animals for the castle and its residents. The fight would take place in the lane, which measured fifteen paces by a hundred paces and intersected another lane at the end. Stalls, with tack and saddles next to them, lined both sides. Heavy doors enclosed the space. Every ten paces a lamp burned, making the entire stable flicker with shadows.

  “We must begin,” the clan elder speaking for Zidin demanded of Kita.

  “I…Ah…”

  “We must wait for the chieftess,” said Kita’s clan elder.

  “Zidin is losing his honor as we speak.”

  “Zidin has enough honor for ten men. Starting without the chieftess could nullify the outcome—then his honor will be lost forever. Better to wait and do it properly.”

  Kita let them fight it out. Her armor would be perfect for the shadowy stable. She felt relieved they’d accepted her choice, saving her from having to convince them. She’d spent many nights in the stable practicing and knew every inch. She took her time inspecting the shadows while the men argued. She frowned when she returned to the irritable group, and her mother hadn’t arrived.

  “Kita, we can’t stall them much longer,” said Kita’s clan elder. “If the chieftess doesn’t arrive soon, we will have to start without her.”

  Anger built inside Kita. She wouldn’t start without her mother. She needed her for what she represented to these people and to keep things fair. Not that there were any rules, except maybe no outside help. Someone had leant the blades she used earlier against a saddle stand. She sheathed them and walked over to help delay.

  The scorekeeper clan elder seemed to be in charge.

  “I’m sorry, the chieftess has not arrived yet, but we must start,” he said to her.

  “I’m not starting without her.”