Call Your Steel

by G. D. Penman

  There was an area on the roof of the Halls that had been sanded down, following the angle of the split in the spire so that there was high ground and low ground, where the Forms of Bone were practiced through heat and cold and where the supposedly friendly sparring between students was undertaken. With only one or two Chosen to serve Negrath each year it became essential to show your superiority, preferably by removing anyone of similar levels of skill from the immediate area.

  It was to this training ground above the noise of the city that Kaius ascended through the bustling Halls unnoticed. It was empty when he arrived and he was shocked. He had never seen it empty in his entire life. Even during exhibitions and furtive duels there were usually dozens of students lurking around. He walked to the centre of the broad circle, turned to face away from the central spire and drew a deep breath.

  He moved through the Thousand Forms of Bone slowly and gracefully at first, a formal perfection in every glacial fist and rising knee. Then, without calling speed, he ran through the forms again as quickly as he could. Then in reverse. Then faster. Then switching through the Forms like water. Feeling like he was home again for a moment at least. He spun through the Forms to defend against a sword barehanded, the forms to disarm an armed man, the killing forms.

  Sweat ran down his forehead and stung his eyes, his robes clung to him in the unaccustomed heat generated by the thousands of bodies all around him. He moved through the forms until he had forgotten a time when he was not moving. His hands came up to block jabbing fists, he spun and leapt to avoid sweeping kicks and then drove forward with his hands like knives, ripping through the defences of his opponent. He performed the simplest arm lock, applying pressure to the back of the elbow and driving his opponent's face to the ground then stopped dead and remembered where he was.

  There was black silk gripped tight beneath his fingers and Atius was on one knee, red faced with exertion and fury. His eyes sparkled with pride, not in his own skill as a Master of the Forms of Bone, but at his mastery of teaching.

  Kaius released him and stepped back and only then did he hear the uproarious applause from the students of the Halls lining the edges of the building. Kaius flushed and hated them all for invading his private domain, Atius most of all, as that man at least suspected how deeply Kaius' need for solitude went and had arranged for it to be turned into a spectacle.

  Atius brought himself back up to his full towering height, brushed sand from his knee and gave Kaius a polite smile, “I believe that you are ready for the Trials, Brother Kaius.”

  ***

  Malius could not be interrupted once he had started talking, “The Chosen of Walpurgan will be flying in as usual and I understand that the Chosen of Ochress will only consent to a single Marked meeting them at the ford of the River Moldan, most likely myself or Brother Atius. But you will need to meet the Chosen of Vulkas at our border.”

  The two men paced in a wide circle around each other as Malius droned on, “Carry our banner, wave our flag and show how honoured we are to be hosting this great event. Any of our Chosen could be sent to see them of course but I think it will be good for you to meet your competitor early on, try to study their movements, discern what weapons they will call, things like that. It will give you a chance to show them up a little too, you are practiced in walking around on the glass and ash, they will probably be skittering around like beetles on ice.”

  The students of the House of Steel were diligently moving through the thousand forms of steel with the bare minimum of concentration so they could surreptitiously watch Malius in action. The grace that the man lacked in his manners and behaviour all seemed to have been poured into his swordplay and it was a rare treat to see it in action.

  Malius pressed on, “I can tell you that Walpurgan's Chosen will use knives or try to turn the Trial of Steel into a second Trial of Bone. Ochress' servant will use pole-arms; spears or tridents most likely. They will try to keep you at a distance and catch your weapon but a single parried thrust before you close in is usually enough to do the trick.”

  Malius paused frowning at the closest rank of students as their feet threw up little clouds of dust in perfect synchronisation, “It is Vulkas' Chosen that you need to watch for, they train in as many weapons as we do, probably more, and every one of them has a few favourites to switch between. They grow big over there too. As big as your fat friend or bigger. Perhaps they have more space to grow over there, or better food.”

  Kaius considered calling steel just so Malius would remember why their meeting had moved from his opulent offices in the War Spire down to the Arena at its base. Kaius persevered in silence, watching the young men and women in Malius' care moving uncomfortably through each of the Thousand Forms of Steel in order.

  Over and over and over. He was pulled out of his reverie when Malius said, “You will be meeting Valerius tonight. I know we have no need to eat but do make an effort to look like you are enjoying yourself. It is an extremely rare honour to dine with the Beloved.”

  Kaius maintained the appearance of disinterest that was required of him but the news left him rattled. He had expected to do his duty, to fight and, hopefully win, then he would assume new duties as were required. It had never even occurred to him that his presence in the city would bring him within sight of the Beloved himself. He supposed that he should feel excited but truly just the jumble of new information left him numb.

  Malius had stopped talking to admonish a young girl's poor form and in the moment of peace Kaius committed himself to the only course of action that made sense. He called steel, wrapping himself in armour and ejecting his favoured curved blade into his hand.

  Malius turned back to him and was taken aback for an instant before chuckling, “Of course, we are here to hone you aren't we.”

  Malius called his own steel, it rippled out from behind his back and engulfed him, settling into the familiar pointed visor over his face and a long straight sword in his hand. His voice came out of it, echoing ominously in the manner associated with the Chosen, “Repetition of the Forms is for these amateurs.” he gestured to his trainees, “Let us see if you can score a touch on me.”

  They bowed to each other politely, eyes never leaving one another, then they moved blindingly fast to close the distance between them. In the beginning they were striking at each other tentatively. Neither was pressing their luck, both obviously had a wary respect for the other's abilities.

  Enhanced by the uncertainty of their years apart. They began to fall into a rhythm, parrying and swiping at one another, never over-extending or taking risks. Malius spoke softly, over the clatter of steel normal hearing would not have detected it,

  “I hope you understand exactly how much I have done for you. Back when you were first selected for service I had to argue with the other Marked to get you a decent posting away from the city. I had to fight every year to keep them from recalling you. They thought that it was spite, that I held some grudge against you from your training but the truth is you do not belong in the city Kaius.”

  They broke apart and circled each other slowly, legs crossing behind one another as they side-stepped. Then for an instant Malius called speed to close the distance and his strikes came in a shimmering flurry.

  Kaius stopped thinking and kicked out under Malius' relentless hammering strikes. The older man leapt back out of reach and set his blade in a high guard, leaving his legs conspicuously open to attack, he started speaking again as he probed Kaius defences with feints.

  “You don't belong in the city. You were born out in the dark and that is where you find your comfort. I saw that from your very first day here. You flinched from the light that the other children were drawn to like moths. I saw your purpose back then. I could see you raised up to the rank of Marked without you challenging my position here. No matter how skilled you were with the steel. How clever you were in your studies. You would never be a Master. Because that would trap you here with the civilised people.”

  Maliu
s spun forward and when he came around to strike he had a sword in each of his hands, he used them together, one striking after the other, calling strength and shattering the rhythm of defence. Leaving Kaius off-balance just long enough for him to risk his next move.

  Malius’ arms swept out and then lashed at Kaius from both sides. He ducked beneath the whistling blades and then bounced back up for a vertical cut that Malius scoffed at, catching it in his scissoring swords.

  The metal shrieked and sparks flicked off around them as they tried one another’s strength. Kaius shuffled a half step forward, squaring his shoulders and bearing down with all of his called strength.

  The ground beneath Malius feet began to crack, the solid earth had no choice but to give beneath the impossible strain. It was not enough to break the old man’s guard. The pointed visors of their helmets almost brushed and Kaius could taste Malius sour breath. It tickled his face the way that it had back when he was just a boy in the Halls of Steel and it seemed that the heat rise would never come.

  He could not see inside Malius’ helmet but he knew from bitter memories the man would be smiling his lipless smirk.

  The moment of distraction was enough. Malius relaxed his left arm, allowing Kaius blade to slip off to the side. Kaius back-stepped out of reach of his counter attack. Malius circled with his arms spread wide for a pincer attack, speaking softly between the harsh sounds of his breathing, “I could see you raised to Marked by my hand Kaius. I could see you become a powerful tool for Negrath, a leader for war against the other Eaters. I know that you would never turn on me because you would feel obligation to me as the one who raised you up. Because you would rather be out in the field than here conducting politics. Most importantly, because you don't hunger, you don't lust, you barely seem to care what is happening to you. All you hunger for is duty. It is most respectable. Valerius will exalt me for bringing you to him.”

  The pincer attack came but with a spin of his blade, Kaius caught both thrusting points and turned them aside. Malius had to leap back out of reach as Kaius fist swept through the empty air where his ribs had been a moment before. With that distance and the moment spare the Marked slammed his swords together into one, twisting his body to one side with the new sword set level to the packed earth. Then he snapped back.

  The thrust would not have reached Kaius but while over-extending himself Malius called his steel into a great lance of flowing metal. Kaius barely leapt to the side in time, he skidded along in the broken dirt past Malius' side, abandoning his footing and form.

  The steel flowed back down Malius' rear leg as he turned, covering his briefly exposed heel. His sword had returned to its normal length and with a blink of called speed and a slap to the inside of the fallen man’s wrist had the tip of his sword set at Kaius' throat.

  Both men released their steel, breathing raggedly, and Malius offered Kaius a hand up, which he politely accepted. On his feet again he found Malius still gripping his hand and pulling him closer.

  The older man had a placid smile fixed on his face as he spoke softly, “And this is the final reason that I know you can be trusted. Because no matter how great your triumphs in the Trials or out in the world when we finally go to war, you will remember this moment. You will remember the taste of this defeat and you will remember that I was the one who defeated you. You will remember that I was magnanimous in victory. You will remember that if you cross me then I can destroy you. You will never turn on me,” he met Kaius’ eyes, “Will you boy?”

  Chapter 3: The Wanting of Things

  Valerius sat at the head of a long table carved in elaborate designs of impossible animals and he sipped at a very watery soup that had been served only to the Beloved, the Marked and Kaius. It had a complex and very subtle flavour that Kaius suspected would be lost on anyone without their enhanced sense of taste. There were flavours of plants, actual plants, not fungi, and a meat other than insect that tasted so rich it left Kaius speechless. Even the aroma was enough to satisfy him. It seemed to be mainly for that purpose that it had been served to Malius.

  It was not clear if his refusal to eat was because he did not wish to become as large as his rival Atius, who sat opposite him at the Beloved's left hand. More likely it was because it would have interfered in his endless talking with, or rather at, the few nobles that had also been seated at the table.

  A great deal of debate went on between him and the woman to Kaius right. Enough so that Kaius wished to swap seats with her several times over. She was Arlia, the Pontifex of the noble quarter of the city, tasked with ensuring that the Eaters and more specifically Negrath were worshipped correctly, with the precise rituals and offerings that would most please them.

  Kaius found it interesting that the task was not allotted to one of the Chosen, then the strictures would be applied evenly over the decades instead of being altered to suit each generation's personal interpretations. He considered that perhaps that was the reason that the task was given to someone who would age and die, to keep the public's interest with relevancy.

  He wondered if just thinking these things was blasphemous but hoped that Negrath, or at least his most adored servant on this earth, would forgive him in return for his dutiful service. He realised that both arguing guests had turned to him for input. Atius looked up at them from a steamed red beetle that he was in the middle of cracking open with his thumb to reach the sweet white meat inside.

  Kaius froze, considering fabricating some generic answer that would move the conversation forward and away from him. Unfortunately he had lost nearly all skill with words in his three years in the dark.

  He set down his bowl and turned to face the Pontifex, “I apologise, it has been a long time since I have eaten such fine food and it had entirely occupied my attention. May I ask what we are discussing?”

  Malius rolled his eyes, Atius chuckled and Arlia looked exasperated before saying, “The eating of human flesh as a sacrament in loving emulation of the divine Eaters of the Gods. How do you stand?”

  Kaius blinked then answered honestly, “I killed ghuls on sight out in the Ashen Dales. They preyed on our working folk. Harassed them, stole their loved ones from where they were buried, snatched children and even killed travellers if they had enough numbers. The few times that beacon fires were lit and villages called for my aid these last three years it was to deal with hidden cults of ghuls, secret encampments of ghuls too close to their homes. On one occasion I was called to settle a dispute over whether a man gone mad out alone in the dark was to be killed as a ghul or imprisoned as a madman after he bit a man to death. After I cut him open we found no human flesh in his stomach so I told them he should have been imprisoned.”

  The Pontifex was staring at him open mouthed, Malius had his face covered by his hands and Atius seemed to be trying not to choke, his face bright red beneath the galvanic lights that the Beloved had so kindly ignited for their illumination while the rest of the city lay in its cold-time darkness.

  The bubble of silence spread further down the table so Kaius tried to fill the silence with a continuing anecdote, “We did find some strange things in his stomach though. He had eaten some little stones, a couple of pieces of polished glass and even a little wooden toy bird. The wings still flapped if you pulled the string.”

  There was a strange, high pitched wheezing sound from the head of the table then a high pitched trilling that Kaius slowly realised was coming from the Beloved who, until now had been sitting silently throughout the meal. He rocked forward in his seat and pointed an accusing finger at Kaius, then rocked back and the trilling grew louder.

  Kaius tensed, waiting for steel to be called against him. If he had offended the Beloved he would accept death peacefully. Atius was the one to realise what was happening first and joined in with the Beloved's laughter. Soon the entire table was laughing like sycophants except for Kaius and the red cheeked Pontifex who had pursed her lips and was clearly waiting for a chance to respond with vitriol.

  Valer
ius spoke, his voice very high pitched but clear, his eyes tinted purple in the galvanic light, “Malius, you should have brought this one to me sooner.”

  Kaius smiled politely, “If he had done so then I wouldn't have had any stories to tell you, Beloved.”

  Valerius' benevolent smile flickered as his title was spoken then he replied, “I shall hear more of them from you and share my own. I retire for now. You may attend me at heat-rise if you wish.”

  Kaius rose too quickly from his seat and it made a screeching sound on the ivory floor, he bowed stiffly as Valerius rose, “It would be an honour.”

  The Beloved turned away from the table, passed between two steel-clad Chosen by the door to his private chambers and then was gone.

  Kaius paused for a moment then moved to head out of the opposite door himself, but the rest of the table had returned to their food except the Pontifex who was staring up at him and tapping her fingers on the tabletop impatiently.

  He settled back into his seat and Malius nudged him gleefully with an elbow while Atius wobbled on his chair chuckling. The Pontifex laid a hand on his arm, trying to reclaim his attention and for a moment the level of tension in the room peaked.

  Kaius looked at her hand on his arm and then up at her face, resisting instinct and training screaming at him to break her arm. Atius spoke tactfully, “Wouldn't a Pontifex know that it is forbidden to touch the Chosen?”

  She withdrew her hand quickly but the damage to her credibility was done, Malius would not engage with her again. One faux-pas of such epic proportions would cost her her position when the next elections came around. Her lost position would cost her family prestige and opportunities in the future. The system had a wonderful way of enforcing itself.

  To show no ill will Kaius tried to continue the debate on the rightness of eating human flesh in attempts to improve yourself but she was too shaken to press her points. Even touching one of the common Chosen in so public a setting would have been scandalous but one of the Chosen who was participating in the Trials, one that clearly had the Beloved's favour, it was unthinkable. Her family may even expel her once her term was complete.