Swords of Waar

by Nathan Long

  “Y-yes.”

  “Give it to me. All of it.”

  Yal-Faen reached for the pouch on his belt. He was too slow. Lhan ripped it from him and hurried into the alley with the rest of us coming after.

  “Brothers, we have need of your wagon.”

  Lhan hopped up on the back of the cart and dumped the last jars of wine off the tail gate and the dudes gaped, then tossed them the pouch. “For your troubles.”

  He pulled Yal-Faen and Ru-Zhera up onto the back, then sat down on the bench like he thought everything was a-okay. The carters didn’t agree. They started to climb up onto the cart.

  “Your troubles are just beginning, ‘brothers.’”

  I was pretty much on their side. Lhan was pulling some high-handed shit here, and a little bag of coins wasn’t gonna make up for them stealing their cart and fucking up their night. At the same time, we needed to go, like five minutes ago. I hefted Sei-Sien on the cart as it started to roll, then hopped up in front of the carters and shoved them back.

  “Sorry, dudes. This is bullshit. I know.”

  They flew backwards off the cart and landed on their asses in a puddle of wine mud and we were gone, picking up speed as we took the corner into the street, scattering drunks in every direction. I caught my balance and sat behind Lhan.

  “That shit woulda got you shot in Texas, bro.”

  He looked grim. “Forgive me, Mistress. Expediency makes churls of us all. I only hope Yal-Faen’s purse was well filled. Now, on to the arena!”

  Sei-Sien’s head snapped around. “The arena? We go to the ship! We must warn Captain Anan of the Aldhanan’s peril!”

  “There is no time for that. We must warn the Aldhanan himself.”

  Sei-Sien turned the color of hand cream. “But… but….”

  Lhan looked around at him, his face as snarky as I’d ever seen it. “Come, Sei-Sien. Surely you would not abandon the Aldhanan to his fate? Surely you would not allow cowardice to turn you from your duty?”

  Sei-Sien swallowed, but shook his head. “Surely not.”

  As we rattled on through the slum, I grabbed Yal-Faen and shook him. “So, what’s supposed to happen at the arena? Aur-Aun can’t be crazy enough to just shank the Aldhanan with Paar-Il and all his guards around. He’d be dead in seconds flat.”

  Yal-Faen shook his head. “Aur-Aun wanted desperately to apprehend the Aldhanan himself, but with Paar-Il’s warning, he knew he would not succeed, so he has gone to the church for assistance. While I was at my books, and the Aldhanan talked to Paar-Il, Aur-Aun slipped away to the Temple of Modgalu. It will be the priests who kill him.”

  “Fuck! But what are they going to do?”

  He shrugged. “I know not, but Aur-Aun warned me it would be during the final event of the blood games.”

  Sei-Sien turned, suspicious, as we took a corner. “He warned you? Why?”

  “I—I was to wait until that moment to set the canopy of the Ku-Rho’s airship alight, so he and Captain Anan would be either dead or too busy to come to the Aldhanan’s aid, and to prevent his escape if somehow he managed to—”

  I stared at him. “Wait a minute. You were part of all this? This isn’t just stuff you overheard?”

  He looked like he was going to cry again. “Aur-Aun convinced me we did the will of the Seven! He said the Aldhanan had been corrupted by heresy and must be stopped.” Yal hung his head. “It was I who sent the messenger to Paar-Il to arrest the Aldhanan. I sent other messages as well, to other Dhanans.”

  Sei-Sien whipped around, reaching for his sword again. “Betrayer! I knew it! It was you!”

  I shoved him back as Lhan looked around.

  “Which Dhanans did you warn? Speak! Ah! One curse it!”

  A carriage veered into our path. Lhan swerved around it and we hit a bump that had us bouncing around like frogs on a hot skillet. I caught Yal-Faen as he was about to pitch over the side and he answered.

  “There were many. I—I have their names in my journal. I—”

  Sei-Sien shook his fist. “You villain! You have wrecked us!”

  Yal wailed. “Think you I do not know it? Why else have I been so miserable?”

  “So what changed your mind?”

  Yal frowned. “I am a tax collector. By their tithes, I know how poorly the farmers fare. It has been getting worse every year. It made me begin to believe your story of the church stealing water from the air.”

  I looked at Ru-Zhera. “What about it, priest? Is stealing water church policy?”

  Ru-Zhera frowned. “My superiors have always denied it, but the rumors of such practices persist.”

  Yal-Faen clutched at the sideboard as we skidded around a corner. “Even knowing this I might have continued to side with the church. The priests might have had some plan for the greater good that required collecting the water. But today Aur-Aun did not say he would have the Aldhanan arrested and held for trial, as he had always said before. Today he said that he would call upon the priests to assassinate him.” He looked off into the middle distance, staring at nothing. “That I could not abide.”

  ***

  We heard the arena before we saw it—cheers and boos and singing echoing through the empty streets of the temple quarter—which made me breathe a sigh of relief. If everybody was still into games, shit probably hadn’t gone down yet. Unless of course they’d been subtle about it—put a knife in the Aldhanan’s back and carried him out like he was some drunk bodyguard. Suddenly I wasn’t so relieved.

  The kraes swung our wagon around another corner and the place came into sight at last. It was about the size of a minor league baseball stadium—and just like stadiums back home, it was surrounded by vendors selling cheap snacks and knick-knacks and people drinking more than was good for them. There were big open arches on every side, and uniformed guards standing in them taking coin from the people going in.

  Lhan reined to a stop at the edge of the plaza and jumped down.

  “Come. Quickly.”

  I frowned, confused. So did Sei.

  “Ride on! To the gate!”

  “No. It will make a scene, which will delay us.”

  Sei saw his point and so did I. We helped Yal-Faen and Ru-Zhera down, then steamed them across the plaza like we were power-walking.

  Lhan laughed and put on a big smile as we neared the guards. “Have we missed it, Dhans? The Priestess wants to see the vurlaks fighting. Their virility excites her.”

  The guards gave Lhan a dirty chuckle and me a leering look, and took his coins without batting an eyelash. We didn’t even have to slow down, and charged up the ramp to the arch that led to the bleachers almost at a run.

  The smell of blood hit me first. It was like an iron hammer shoved up my nose. I nearly gagged. Then we stepped out to the bleachers and I did gag. I don’t know what I was expecting to see. Maybe gladiator fights like the ones Lhan and I had fought in down in Doshaan? Maybe wild beasts tearing apart condemned men, which had also been on the card down there?

  This was neither of those. Instead it seemed to be some kind of cross between bullfighting and a butcher shop. The arena floor was divided into six wedges, with a naked matador guy in each one, armed only with what looked like a giant skinning knife. In the middle of the arena was a big six-gated corral full of terrified maku, and every few seconds, one of the cage doors would open and one of the big bastards would charge into a wedge, heading straight for the matador.

  Then the matador killed it.

  There were no fancy dance moves or cape flapping. The guy just dodged and ducked until he could get behind the maku’s head and cut its throat. But the fun wasn’t over yet. As soon as the thing was dead—and sometimes even sooner—he started skinning it and cutting it up into its various parts, all of which got thrown into various piles—legs over here, head over there, carcasses in the middle, guts behind, skins to the side—blood everywhere. There were huge, six-foot mounds of steaming, bleeding meat behind each of the matadors, and they were rising highe
r every second. As soon as a guy finished sorting his meat, he gave a signal and the guys in the middle let another one out. It looked like they were counting which guy slaughtered the most in the shortest amount of time.

  It was so horrible it was hard to tear my eyes away. I mean, I know that’s pretty much what goes into making my bacon cheeseburgers, but making a sport out of it, hearing everybody cheer when another one of those big dumb beasts went down gushing out its life blood? It made my stomach curdle.

  “There they are!”

  With a grunt of relief, I turned and looked where Lhan was pointing, and saw Paar-Il and some other hick Dhans sitting in a private box with the Aldhanan way at the top on the other side of the arena. The Adhanan was dressed like a Dhan now too, only with a domino mask to hide his face, but there was no way you could miss that jaw.

  I sized up the guards standing at the foot of the stairs that led up to the boxes. They were tough-looking hombres, and we weren’t going to get by them with a laugh and dirty joke, but maybe we could sneak up to another box and—

  “Priests!” Beside me, Sei-Sien was suddenly pointing like a bird dog at a duck hunt. “And disguised as Flames! Infamy!”

  Lhan and I turned. Sei was staring at the box to the right of Paar-Il’s, where a bunch of guys were pulling up the hoods of their cloaks. One of ’em had a face I knew.

  “The high priest! Duru-Vau!”

  Lhan glanced at the box on the left left of Paar-Il’s. It was packed too. “And more on the opposite side!” He edged back. “Come, we must find a way to warn the Aldhanan before they—”

  “Murderers! False priests! This is not the church I love! I will slay you all!”

  Lhan and I froze as the little poindexter Yal-Faen ripped Sei-Sien’s sword from his hand and started running full tilt around the arena with it, screaming at the top of his lungs.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  ASSASSINS!

  The crowd was too busy watching animals being skinned alive to notice Yal-Faen, but that beady-eyed little fucker Duru-Vau saw him right away. Then he saw me and Lhan. Then he waved to his men.

  The disguised priests moved like they were one big, multi-legged animal, swarming over the railing and swinging around the little dividing walls into Paar-Il’s box, swords out, while more kicked in the door at the back and poured in that way.

  “Yal! You dumb-ass!”

  I charged after the accountant, rage rising and heart sinking. The stupid goober had ruined everything! Somewhere behind me, I heard Lhan shouting.

  “Sei-Sien, take the priest back to the cart! Go!”

  I didn’t hear Sei complaining, and I didn’t wait for Lhan to catch up. There was no time. I kicked off Yal-Faen’s back and launched into the bleachers, sending spectators diving every which way.

  Up in the VIP box it was dire. There had been about ten guys standing guard around the bigwigs, and they had at least kept Paar-Il and his guests from dying in the priests’ first wave, but they hadn’t lasted long, and now it was Paar-Il and his Dhans and the Aldhanan who were fighting the fake heretics. They were doing a fuck of a lot better than any politicians back home woulda done, but it wasn’t enough. They were still outnumbered three to one.

  I leapt a rail to the next bank of bleachers and kept going. Three more jumps and I’d be there.

  “Stop her! It is the giantess who kidnapped the Aldhanan’s daughter. Now she’s helping the heretics kill Paar-Il!”

  I looked around in mid-leap. Aur-Aun was running out from a ramp to my left and pointing at me, a gang of priests—for once dressed like priests—at his back.

  With all the cheering and the shrieking of butchered maku, it had taken the arena until now to realize something was happening up in the boxes, but what with my human flea routine and Aur-Aun’s shouting, they were catching on fast. All of a sudden, people weren’t diving out of my way anymore. Instead, they were all screaming bloody murder and grabbing for me. I felt like the beach ball at a rock concert.

  I shoved at a beefy guy who had a hold of my left calf. “Get off! I’m the good guy! I gotta go save them!”

  He wasn’t listening, and neither were the rest of them. There were twenty hands grabbing at me now. I was swamped, and Aur-Aun and his little orange buddies were closing in. Goddamn it! I didn’t want to hurt these people, but I had to get through. The Aldhanan was fighting for his life up there. I could see blood on his arms, and under his mask.

  I grabbed Beefy by the belt and swung him around at everybody else, smashing them back like meat bowling pins. I was in the clear, but just for good measure I heaved the fat fuck at Aur-Aun and his pet priests, then took off again without bothering to see if I’d connected.

  Two more leaps and I vaulted over the rail into Paar-Il’s box, slashing around like a weed wacker. The fake heretics were busy butchering the Dhans and went down like—well—weeds. I cut the legs out from under three guys on my first slash, then beheaded another guy on the backhand. The rest turned to face me, and I tore into ’em like a steel tornado, snapping swords, chopping off hands, smashing rib cages as, behind them, I saw Paar-Il and the Aldhanan fighting back to back.

  “Hang on! I’m coming!”

  But then I wasn’t.

  As I hacked down another two priests, I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye and glanced around just in time to see Duru-Vau step over the rail from the box to the right and stare right at me with his mild little eyes. He didn’t have a weapon and he was fifteen feet away, so I put him on the back burner and was turning back to my fight, when the little pip-squeak thrust his palm at me like something out of Five Fingers of Death and I flew backwards across the box like I’d taken a cannonball to the tits. It felt like it too. My skin was tingling and my heart was hammering like I’d touched a live wire. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t feel my hands or feet.

  My mind hurt worse than all that combined. The little fucker hadn’t touched me, and yet he’d knocked me on my ass and fried all my circuits. How the fuck do you do that? I’d seen a lot of weird-ass shit since I’d showed up on Waar, but I’d always been able to put it into the science fiction category—alien technology, super science, whatever. This was straight up wizards and witches shit! He’d hit me with a fucking death spell!

  Then I had some more down-to-earth death to worry about. All the guys I’d been chopping up started charging forward, ready to chop me up, and I was a long way from doing anything more than remembering how to breathe. I felt like I’d been tazed. Fortunately, Lhan chose that moment to throw himself over the railing and drive ’em back.

  “Mistress, can you stand?”

  I tried. I felt like I was made out of rubber chickens. “What the fuck wuzzat?” Even my tongue was rubber. “Little prick jus’ hit me with a lightnin’ bolt.”

  “A Gift of the Seven.” Lhan blocked another stab, but they were forcing him back now. “Divine power granted by the gods to their most devout.”

  “Shure packs a helluva whallop.”

  I made it to my feet, though I felt like I was standin’ in a rowboat on a stormy sea, and saw Duru-Vau cocking back for another death strike. I beat him to it. Somebody’s helmet was on the ground, with a lot of blood and hair still sticking to it; I scooped it up and hurled it at him over Lhan’s head.

  It was a sucky throw, and didn’t come within a foot of him, but he was balanced on the railing and jerked back when he saw it coming, and next thing I saw was his sandals kicking up in the air as he took a header into the cheap seats.

  I was still moving like the Vicodin had just kicked in, but at least I was moving, and plowed into the guys who were driving Lhan back. I couldn’t swing in a straight line, but a six-foot sword doesn’t have to be precise to be scary, and I had ’em ducking and blocking while Lhan took care of the actually hitting them part.

  Five seconds and five corpses later they’d had enough and broke for the exits, and Lhan and I charged for the Aldhanan—way too fucking late.

  Paar-Il was face-
down in his own blood. The Aldhanan had a sword through his guts, and a cut on his neck that was never going to heal. He was still up, still hacking at four last priests, but he was weaving like a two AM drunk.

  The guys he was fighting were trying to pull the water token satchel from his shoulder. Lhan and I hacked two of ’em down and the other two fled, diving over the rail, and it was just the three of us. The Aldhanan turned on me, snarling and slashing, so much blood in his eyes he couldn’t see. I blocked the cut and backed up.

  “Aldhanan, it’s us! Jane and Lhan!”

  He checked his swing and stumbled against me, wheezing through the hole in his throat. “Mistress Jae-En, we are betrayed. We…”

  I caught him before he fell, then sobbed as his knees buckled and he clutched at me. “Oh, god, Lhan, this can’t— We… I shoulda run faster. I shoulda—”

  The Aldhanan’s sword dropped from his hand. I lowered him to the ground. The world was all swimmy and blurred. Tears were splashing on his face as I leaned over him, making little holes in the blood.

  “Hold on, sir. Please don’t die. I’ll find somebody who can fix you up.”

  But I knew it was a lie as I said it. There was no fixing all that. Not on this stupid fucking backwards planet. Not without EMTs and a medevac. Goddamn it! Why did I ever come back to this shit hole? I—

  The Aldhanan gripped my hand. “Mistress, Lhan, listen to me.”

  I wiped my eyes and leaned in. “We’re here. What is it?”

  “Protect my daughter. And her… f-fool of a consort. It will not go… well for them, now I am… gone.”

  I wanted to tell him he should find somebody who hadn’t just failed to save his life, that I was the wrong person for the job, that I sucked in every way possible, but he was fading fast, so I just squeezed his hand. Lhan did too.

  “We’ll do our best, sir. I promise.”

  “Aye, Aldhanan. Of course.”

  He was dead before we’d finished.

  My throat closed up like a giant was choking me. “Goddamn it, Lhan. Goddamn it all to hell.” My lip started to quiver and the tears came again, I was shaking so hard. “I fucked up. I didn’t save him. I should have—”