by H. M. Clarke
“Prove myself?” Ryn glanced uncertainly around the room as the Dhar turned away from her and stepped back up onto the throne’s platform with one of his guards. The other guard stood his ground, watching her.
‘You must prove yourself worthy enough to be listened to. To do that, you must go through the Right of Adulthood. As you are a warrior by profession, your right will be a Right of Combat. As you are a Bareskin, you are allowed the use of your weapons.’
“What?”
Before the word had left her mouth, the Dymarki warrior crouched, and then hurled himself toward her. In one fluid motion Ryn drew her sword and dodged to the side at the last moment, letting the warrior overbalance, and then knocked him on the head with her sword’s pommel. Tossing the sword up, she reversed her grip on the hilt and then stabbed down into his back. He let out a roar of pain as she wrenched the blade out of the wound.
Ryn leapt back as the Dymarki was already recovering. He barreled into her with a roar, knocking her away from her sword, slamming her into the marble wall, and bit into her upper arm, close to her shoulder wound. The fangs sank deep into her flesh, and she could feel them tearing at the muscle.
Ryn fought hard against the Dymarki, gritting her teeth as he released her arm to emit a rattling screech right over her face, spraying her with saliva. She could smell his fetid breath, see the glistening red tongue rolling behind his long fangs. They struggled against the wall, and then she got her left hand free and jutted it hard under the Dymarki’s chin. He snarled in rage as she gathered her strength and pushed his head away from her, harder and harder until it was stretched back, struggling to maintain his leverage.
When he let go of her, she shoved. The warrior hit his head against the throne room wall, hard enough for there to be a muted cracking sound. Before the Dymarki could reorient himself, she snatched up her sword and jumped to her feet in one smooth motion. As the Dymarki attempted to rise, she hacked down. Once. Twice. And it was done.
She paused, gasping for breath, and leaned against the wall. A wave of weakness came over her, and she let the sword drop to the floor as her wounds protested the abuse. The smell of the flowing blood was pungent, overwhelming even the stink of fear that surrounded every human in the room. The emotions humming through her Link with Dagan grew more strident, more insistent. It threatened to block out all other sensations. For just a moment she pressed her forehead against the cool marble and closed her eyes.
‘You are brave after all. There are few bareskins in this city that command such respect.’
Ryn opened her eyes and turned to look toward the throne. The Dhar still stood on the edge of the platform, his yellow eyes staring down at her.
‘So tell me, Blackwatch: you know I cannot withdraw. Your people attacked our camp. How would you resolve this conflict?’
Ryn dropped her head. She drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. By Bellus she felt tired. And sore. Her right arm felt as if it had been torn from her body and after the battering it’s had over the last couple of days wanted to take a break from the rest of her body to recuperate. The rest of the city probably felt just as she did now.
Ryn looked back up at the Dhar. “There must be a way to sort this out without our people killing each other.”
The Dhar slowly shook his head, and Ryn thought she detected a hint of sadness there.
‘The time for words has passed. In the end lies glory. It is the Old Way, and we will end this as Dearen Hardclaw and the King of Hadria ended their conflict. I challenge you, Blackwatch. You and I will battle to the death with this city as the prize.’
“A fight to the death? You mean one on one? With no outside help from either your warriors or from my Blackwatch?”
The Dhar nodded. ‘I have challenged you to single combat. Anyone who interferes will break the ancient covenant and will bring dishonor on themselves and their Clan. Flattu, Lord of the Winds, will see to it.’
Ryn tried not to look up at Lily, not wanting to give away her position. She also hoped that, whatever happens, that Lily did not interfere to save her life. These Dymarki were honorable to their set codes and Bellus only could help anyone who broke their word to it.
Thoughts tumbled through Ryn’s head. The Dhar was tall, hulking. An image of pure muscle and power. And he was rested and uninjured. Ryn felt twin throbs of pain from the wounds in her shoulder and her arm. And she felt worn out, tired. She looked again at Dhar Etha, who stood waiting impassively for her answer. This would not be a fair fight. But if she didn’t do this, the prisoners would surely die. And if she did do this, then she might survive. There was only one choice.
“All right. I accept your challenge.”
‘So shall it be!’
Dhar Etha stepped down from the platform and the guards surrounding the prisoners pushed them back against the wall and spread them out along its length, leaving a large, open area of carpet in front of the main doors and the throne. Four Dymarki warriors took position at the cardinal points on the carpet, forming a square. The Dhar strode to the middle of this area and with the flick of his long tail turned to her.
‘The square has been formed,’ he said.
Ryn glanced uneasily around the room as she bent to pick up her sword. She gave it a small test swing and felt her arm and shoulder flare with pain. It could do, but the strength was gone. She moved the sword into her left hand and pulled her dagger from its scabbard with her right hand. It will have to do. She firmed her grip on the weapons and stepped past the Dymarki corner holders into the square.
Moving the weapon is not enough. The words of Ryn’s Weapons Master came into her mind. Though some think it is. The mind is part of it, most of it. Blank your mind. Empty it of hate or fear, of everything. Burn them away to nothing. Let the void that remains be your center, and from there everything will come. She’d never been able to find that true stillness. Maybe now, in her last moments, she might.
She had stopped a few feet in from the edge of the square, her arms hanging limply at her sides, the tip of her longsword resting on the bright patterned carpet. Ryn steadied her breathing and tried her best to clear all extraneous thoughts from her mind. The thought barrier went up and Ryn felt Dagan’s presence disappear. She then started the breathing exercises to help her focus. The Dhar stood on the other side of the square, staring at her. After a moment she realized that the Dhar had been trying to talk to her and the mental barrier she had just raised had blocked his mind voice.
Ryn took a deep breath. Held it for a moment before she slowly released it. She looked up at the Dhar and nodded. She was ready. The Dhar nodded back, his snow white fur flashing in the light of the throne room’s numerous candlesticks. The dark stripes seemed to absorb it.
He dropped into a crouch. She did not move. A few heartbeats later, he sprinted towards her. The Dhar’s speed was a surprise. At the last moment he lunged, slashing at her face. She ducked the razor-sharp claws and angled into his body. With her dagger hand, she struck. She hammered the pommel hard into the soft, loose fold of fur over his throat, and drove her knee into his groin.
His breath whooshed out, and he bent double. He reflexively bought his elbow down, clipping her injured shoulder. Wincing while gritting her teeth to hold back the pain, she rammed the hilt of the dagger into his nose. This time, he leapt back, rubbing at his snout.
Her blows had been non lethal, just as his blows had not been serious. The Dhar was testing her, and she tested him in return.
Dhar Etha flexed his fingers, extending his claws out to their fullest extent, and then launched himself at her, his digitigrade legs acting like coiled springs. Ryn slid to the side. More agile than expected, Dhar Etha threw out an arm and hooked Ryn around the neck. They went down in a tangle.
Ryn slammed her good elbow into Etha’s ribs and scrambled to her feet first. Once up, she hesitated as the pain in her injured shoulder felt as it was burrowing into her shoulder blade. Her hesitation gave Dhar Etha time to find his feet. He
crouched and charged, razor-sharp claws leading. Ryn should have evaded the attack easily, but pain abruptly spasmed from her shoulder down her back, causing her to drop to one knee. But she still had hold of her weapons. She shifted her upper body to the side, slashing at the inside of his ankle with her dagger.
Too fast to see, he kicked the blade from her hand. By the time it thudded to the carpet, he was on her, his hand around her neck. She tried to jerk her knee into his groin, but he blocked and pressed her into the thick plush of the floor.
He loomed broader and several feet taller than her. He pinned her down with his body. The teeth in his muzzle revealed as his lips peeled back into a snarl. His weight on her right shoulder caused pain to sear its way up her neck. Her sword was still in her left hand. She turned its pommel and slammed it hard into Dhar Etha’s ear. Roaring in pain, he rolled away from her, hand clasped to his ear. The ringing will be there for days if Dymarki ears were the same as humans. She should know, having been smacked about the head countless times with practice swords.
But the time to finish this was now. If she did nothing, he would just wear her down and get her when she got sloppy. She could not allow that to happen. Not when the lives of all these people were counting on her.
Ryn charged like a raging bull, crossing the square in less than a heartbeat. Dhar Etha side stepped and stuck out his clawed hand so she would run into it. Ryn anticipated the move and blurred past the hand. She darted to the outside, coming up behind Dhar Etha. Ryn leapt up and grabbed his far shoulder, snaked her foot between the bigger cat’s legs, and thrust up with her hips even as she pulled down with her hand. Agony speared through the right side of her body and Ryn could feel blood flowing down her back.
Dhar Etha toppled backward, accelerating to the ground. When he hit, his breath whooshed out of him and his tail lashed about in the air.
Ryn went down with Dhar Etha, albeit in a more controlled manner. Ryn pinned her opponent and jammed the edge of her blade against Dhar Etha’s throat. She still had not found her void or her balance, but she still got the job done.
At that exact moment, a loud crack resonated throughout the Throne Room and the surrounding warriors turned to the main doors as they shook hard against their hinges. Ryn kept her hold on the Dhar and her sword at his throat.
Another loud crack and the doors flew open, barely missing the Dymarki warriors as they slammed back hard into the walls. On the threshold was a rearing, heavy set gray plough horse and on his back was a figure clad entirely in black, a glowing blue runestaff held high above him. Behind them was a company of Blackwatch and Tribunal soldiers.
The gray horse kicked out its front legs and gave out a piercing neigh before bringing them down with a snort. Ryn caught the blue shimmer of the protective barrier that covered the people at the entrance.
“Nice of you to join us,” Ryn called out to them. “The Dhar and I have just come to an agreement.”
“Are you okay?” Dagan’s face still looked like vengeance incarnate, but at least he hadn’t seared everything to a crisp just yet.
“As well as I can be after the day I’ve just had.” Ryn looked down at the Dhar, the sharp blade of her longsword still pressed into the soft skin at his neck. A slight gleam of red marked the white fur near the metal. “Have we reached an agreement? or are we still battling to the death?”
Dhar Etha’s yellow eyes looked up at her. She could see no fear in them, only grudging respect. ‘You have won. We will honor our bargain.’
Ryn held the blade a moment longer, as she stared back at him. The Dhar has shown himself honorable to his code and he had spoken before all his people. She could trust his word. Ryn released the Dhar. “I am heartily sick of all this bloodshed and death. It needs to end. Killing ourselves is not the answer. I am no diplomat, but this wanting to kill each other has got to stop. It will only breed misery and pain and that will benefit no one.” Ryn stopped and shook herself as she realized that she sounded more like a lecture than anything helpful. She looked back up at Dhar Etha. “You and your warriors are to leave this city. Only the Dymarki who have not raised a claw against us may stay.”
‘We will abide by your ruling. It will be my last command as Dhar. Tomorrow the people will vote on a new leader now that I have been defeated in combat,’ Dhar Etha said as they both rose to their feet. ‘I will take my men and go out into the city to command that my warriors stand down.’
“I will have a mixed squad of Blackwatch and Tribunal go with you,” Run said and held a hand up to forestall any comment. “They are not to monitor you. I would not stain your honor in that way. It is for the Kaldorians. Those fighting in the city will not take the word of a Dymarki that the battle is finished.”
Dhar Etha nodded. ‘We do not want more bloodshed in the streets than is needed.’
“Ryn!”
Before she could finish speaking with the Dhar, she found herself swept up in strong, supporting arms, and the musky smell of wool, wood smoke and sweat engulfed her. The rasp of an unshaven cheek swept across hers as she felt hot breath whisper in her ear. “Ryn, you’re alive!”
“Of course I’m alive,” she said, recovering from the shock and circling her good arm underneath the warmth of his wool cloak. “You should know by now that it takes more than a mere battle to the death to get rid of me.”
“I’m beginning to realize that.”
Ryn felt his lips move into a grin against her cheek.
He pulled away and used a hand to tuck some stray hair back behind her ear, his golden honey eyes staring at her face, taking in every curve as if he was seeing it for the first time.
“I’ve got some business to finish up,” she said with a smile.
Dagan’s face and posture suddenly dropped into his usual impassive Magister demeanor and he moved to stand menacingly behind her, all the while his runestaff was still flickering with blue power and she was surprised that he did not object to her taking the lead.
Dhar Etha was still standing before her with several of his warriors behind him. Some of the men that had come in with Dagan were now helping the hostages to their feet. The gray plough horse had disappeared and Ryn caught sight of Bron helping his now naked brother Vannik into some trousers. And standing a little off to one side was Donal and Banar. Ryn looked up to the balcony above them and noted that Lily was no longer there. She must be on the way back down to the Throne Room.
“Banar, can you select some of your men and accompany Dhar Etha and his warriors into the city? You are to tell all human combatants to stand down as the conflict is over. You are then to escort the Dhar and his warriors back to their camp.”
Banar ducked his head while giving her a quick salute before turning smartly on his heel and headed toward the large group of men milling around near the doors. The Dhar gave her a small nod as well and moved to join Banar with a group of Blackwatch following along in their wake. Then just as quickly they were gone.
“You’re bleeding!” she heard Dagan hiss from behind her.
“Yes. In several places. Dymarki have sharp teeth.”
“DONAL!”
Dagan’s voice boomed across the room, startling both her and Donal who then came bounding over to them.
“Yes, Dagan?”
“Ryn is injured. Again.”
“Ah! Of course, I’ll just put this treatment on the tab. You already owe me a lot of cake and biscuits already.”
“And I’ll probably owe you a lot more in the future, Donal.”
Donal’s face cracked into a grin as his runestaff lit up with a bright purple light as he released his power into it. More commotion from the door distracted her as Donal worked his healing. She noticed when the pain abruptly disappeared. Donal had worked his magic.
“Ryn!” Ashe’s voice echoed into the room and was quickly followed by the man himself as he bounded into the room. “Thank Bellus you’re all right.”
“Ashe, you made it. Is Darne Loren and Praetor Maluski with you?�
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“Magister Loren is here?” Dagan asked.
“They were just behind me with what is left of their company.”
As if on cue, Praetor Maluski came striding through the doors. Magister Loren was close behind her, but he then stayed back to talk to some of the Tribunal soldiers standing at the door.
“Is it over?” Maluski asked as she marched up to them, her glaring eyes taking in the surrounding scene.
“It’s over,” Ryn replied, trying to keep the hate from her voice. Even now she had the impression the Praetor was somehow pleased with the outcome.
Some of the freed hostages standing by the door overheard them and one shouted out. “The city has been saved.” And other shouted. “She has saved us all. Thank Bellus for the Blackwatch!”
Etienne Maluski’s glare turned into one of pure hatred as she looked at Ryn. To Ryn, it looked as if the woman wanted to be the one to save the city. After that brief moment of open emotion, the Praetor’s face clamped down with the standard Tribunal impassiveness.
“It seems that Kaldor has a new Blackwatch Hero.”
CHAPTER TWENTY Six
Praefect Balesir sat again behind his desk, his fingers steepled in front of him as he listened to Dagan’s story. Instead of his official robes, he wore an old, plain over robe that hung in large folds of cloth around him. What remained of his hair now stood at odd angles to his head.
Dagan stood impassively across the desk from him, having declined the seat that had been offered to him. His golden eyes fixed upon the man in front of him.
“These are evil tidings you bring about what started the riots against the Dymarki.” Praefect Balesir said. “We have heard from our intelligence that there have been changes made within the leadership of the Brotherhood. Intelligence have also heard rumors that the Brotherhood have one of The Fallen walking amongst them.”
Dagan shivered at the mention of The Fallen. The Fallen were opposed to the Old Gods that served Bellus and existed only to see the Order and Balance of Bellus fall into Chaos. The existence of The Fallen is known only to the Tribunal, the Church, and members of rank and trust. The Church and the Tribunal did not want the general citizens to know of The Fallen and the danger they represent. That would only bring trouble.
