The Fires of Vengeance

by Evan Winter

Tau shook his head. “We’re here for the warlord.”

  “So you say, but I have trouble thinking that Hadith will agree with that.”

  Tau kept his eyes on the beach. “Kana isn’t a threat.”

  Themba sniffed and looked behind them, toward the Fist. “Not yet. Anyway, it’s not up to just us anymore.”

  That was true. Stealthy as they were trying to be, Tau could hear the rest of their prong approaching. Their soldiers were headed straight for them, which meant they’d found the guide marks Tau had drawn in the red clay. “Keep watch on the beach,” Tau said, pulling his swords free and moving to stand in the shadow of the pillar behind which they were hiding. “If it’s not them …”

  Themba’s nostrils flared. “Wait … what do you mean, if it’s not them?”

  Tau said nothing, tucking himself deeper in the shadows and watching the way behind them, when, a moment later, Hadith crept into view, the rest of the prong trailing.

  He spotted Themba first and then saw the Xiddeen by the water’s edge. “Looks like this is the lucky beach,” he whispered. “Where’s Tau?”

  Tau stepped from the shadows. “Here.”

  Startling, Hadith snatched for his sword hilt. “Cek,” he hissed. “Don’t do that.”

  “Most of the ships have sailed,” Tau said. “Two are left, and you were right. The warlord is still on the beach.”

  Hadith’s mouth tightened. “He’s a good leader, and we knew that.”

  “The son is there too,” Themba said, and Tau shot him a look.

  “Kana?” Hadith said. Themba nodded and Hadith counted the men on the beach quickly. “There’s two hundred and twenty-three of them. We’ll be outnumbered four to one, but if the son is there too, we should attack.”

  Tau remembered fighting alongside Kana on the Guardian Keep’s ramparts against Odili’s Indlovu. They’d guarded each other’s backs. “We’ll attack once the son and the raiders with him leave the shore,” he said. “We’re after the warlord.”

  Hadith shook his head. “The Xiddeen were willing to marry Kana to our queen. He’s important enough that they might turn to him for leadership once the warlord is dead, and if that happens, Kana will have every reason to press for the invasion to continue. We can get them both and—”

  “Kana isn’t like his father.”

  Hadith’s face was grim. “He won’t get the chance to be,” he said, turning to give the rest of the prong their orders.

  “No.”

  Hadith froze midturn, like he were one of the pillars that were all around them. “No, Tau?”

  “It’s Champion Solarin,” Tau said, “and we wait until Kana has sailed before we attack.”

  “That’s not smart and I won’t—”

  “Those are my orders.”

  Hadith’s eyebrows rose. “Orders? Truly?”

  “Truly.”

  Hadith clenched his jaw, the muscles on the sides of his face pulsing. “As you say, Champion.”

  Tau nodded and turned back to the beach to wait for Kana to board his ship. The Xiddeen watercraft was larger than anything the Omehi bothered to build. It had masts and a slew of oars that made it look like the small water-walking insects Tau used to catch as a child.

  He supposed the design made sense. The ships had to be beached and pulled far out of the water or the Roar would sink them. That meant they also had to have enough oars to row the ships back out to the open waters. The Xiddeen watercraft were cleverly done, looked very well built, and Tau still figured that one in ten sank on each voyage.

  “Kana is boarding,” Themba said.

  But he didn’t. Kana, halfway up the ship’s walkway, turned, marched back down, and wrapped his father in a heavy hug. The two men clapped each other on the back and spoke.

  “Ukufa’s teeth, hurry up,” Themba said.

  The embrace ended, and the warlord, the dreaded Achak, held his son at arm’s length and smiled at him. The others probably couldn’t see the smile, but Tau did.

  “Get on the boat, Kana …,” Tau whispered, and as if he’d heard, Kana turned and boarded.

  He embarked midships and walked to the longboat’s rear, staying there while the sailors used long poles to push the ship into the water. The oars took over then, and the longboat shuddered, tossed, and fell among waves that crested and troughed like convulsing mountains. They were no longer allies, but each time Kana’s ship dove down drops big enough to smash it apart, Tau held his breath, and he kept doing it until the longboat was safely beyond the point where the waves were breaking.

  That was always one of the most dangerous parts of sailing the Roar, and having seen his son to relative safety, Achak raised his hand in a final farewell. From so far inland, Tau could no longer see Kana, but it wasn’t hard to imagine him mirroring the gesture.

  “It’s time,” Tau said. Kana was past the point of no return and it would be impossible for him to beat his way back to shore before the deed was done.

  The Gifted with them lowered her hood. “Goddess go with us all,” she said.

  Tau nodded, caught the eyes of the rest, and, blood pounding in his ears, he pulled his black blades free. “Where we fight!” he shouted.

  “The world burns!” his men screamed, rising from behind their pillars of stone to charge the beach.

  LUCK

  The Xiddeen on the beach seemed like a singular creature as they whirled to face an onslaught of bronze. Tau saw them heft their spears and hatchets and felt his blood run hot. He tried to run faster, but the rest of the prong were leaving him behind.

  “Stay with him!” Hadith shouted at Themba as he raced along with the rest of the fighters to meet the hastily formed front line of Xiddeen.

  The Chosen smashed into them and the Xiddeen front line snapped like dry twigs, women and men falling bloodied, dying, and dead. From the rear, Tau could survey the impromptu battlefield and he spotted the warlord.

  “There,” he said to Themba, and the two men veered for him and into their first fight.

  Themba skidded to a stop, blocked a spear thrust with his shield, and took the one wielding the spear in the shoulder with his sword. With blood spraying from the wound, the spearman collapsed shrieking until Themba put his sword through the man’s face.

  Themba shot Tau a smile, pushed on, and engaged a Xiddeen woman with an ax in each hand.

  Limping onward, Tau was attacked by a scarred Xiddeen spearman with long hair twisted into the whip-like cords that Kana wore. Bounding from foot to foot, the spearman threw himself at Tau, spear leading the way, and unable to trust his wounded leg, Tau leaned away from the strike and smacked it farther off target with his weak-side sword. Flowing with Tau’s block and using the energy of it to give his attack momentum, the spearman spun, hoping to sever Tau’s neck in a single sweep, but Tau’s strong-side sword slipped into the spearman’s spine, ripping up his insides before he could complete the move. He died on his feet and Tau limped on, trying to catch up to Themba, who had stepped over the axwoman’s body and was fighting two Xiddeen at the same time.

  Tau killed one of them, Themba stove in the skull of the other, and with no one else in easy reach, Tau searched again for the warlord.

  It didn’t take long to find him. Most of the Chosen were fighting their way toward him, and similarly, most of the Xiddeen were focused on keeping him safe so he could board the last longboat. It was, Tau knew, the most dangerous part of the attack. The Xiddeen had more fighters, and if they bunched up and fought together, it would be hard for the Chosen to win. Worse, if they got the warlord on the ship, they might be able to set sail and save him.

  Hadith, however, had understood what the Xiddeen would need as well, because he was already coursing for the longboat, running through surf and sand to block the warlord’s main hope of escape, and with him was an enraged Ingonyama. The Ingonyama’s features were distorted by the enraging, but Tau recognized him. It was the same man who had drawn the map of the beach for him, and in another few breaths,
the Ingonyama would be standing between the warlord and the warlord’s ship.

  Tau shook his head in disbelief at Hadith’s insight. If he were to live forever, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to think about the world in the same way that Hadith did.

  Their prong had begun the charge from farther inland and Achak should have been able to get to his ship before they got to him, but Hadith had splintered the prong, taking a third into the surf. It made the remainder of their fighters look like they were too few to win a battle against the Xiddeen, and Hadith had guessed that the warlord would not flee against a force he could destroy. True to form, Warlord Achak had ordered his raiders to attack, giving Hadith, the Gifted, her honor guard, and the Ingonyama just enough time to cut off his escape.

  Tau watched as the bellowing Ingonyama used a single blow to break the bodies of the first three Xiddeen to face him before bringing his sword back the other way, to split the next raider almost in half. With his shield hand, the colossus grabbed a Xiddeen man by the neck and snapped it in his grip.

  The Gifted was twenty strides back from the fighting. She was standing in the surf, and it swirled around her shoulder-width planted feet, tugging at the hem of her saltwater-soaked robes as she held her arms out to the Ingonyama and pushed Isihogo’s energies through him.

  An axman came for Tau and died, and Tau wondered if the warlord would be dead before he could get within a dozen strides of him.

  “Quickly, Themba!” Tau said as he sent another soul to the Goddess’s embrace.

  “Coming, coming …,” Themba said, shouldering a wounded Xiddeen fighter to one side before giving them the point of his sword. “I’m com—” Themba’s mouth dropped open as he stared in the direction of Warlord Achak’s longboat.

  Tau followed his gaze and saw something right out of a fireside story. Their Ingonyama was entangled with an enraged Xiddeen warrior, and the two colossi bashed and battered at each other with blows powerful enough to fell trees.

  The Omehi did not train enraged Ingonyama against one another. It was too dangerous. So Tau had never seen two enraged warriors dueling to the death. It was a humbling sight, even more so when he realized that the presence of just one enraged Xiddeen warrior had managed to halt the advance of Hadith’s splinter force.

  The Omehi’s way to Achak’s longboat had been blocked, and without Hadith’s fighters to impede him, the warlord had not been completely cut off. Achak, too clever to make the same mistake twice, was already retreating farther down the beach.

  At first, Tau didn’t understand the point. They were in a cove and Achak’s only way out was to fight past the Chosen’s much larger force. Retreating bought him time, but because the cove ended at an outcropping of rock that extended all the way into the Roar, it also kept him trapped. He’d have nowhere left to run. Unless …

  Tau checked the Roar and understood Achak’s goal immediately. Several of the Xiddeen longboats were doing their best to beat a path back to the shore. Kana’s was the closest, and the warlord hoped to get on that ship.

  “Themba!” Tau pointed to the line of longboats and forced himself into a run, moving farther inland and around the press of warring bodies.

  Seeing the incoming ships, Themba swore and sliced at the air with his sword like he wished he could cut it.

  “Coming!” he said, chasing after Tau.

  Tau ran and lurched along. If they could get around the fighting, they’d reach the end of the cove before the ships could make it back to shore. They’d have a chance at Achak.

  Themba caught up to Tau. “We’re far past our men!”

  “Warlord!” Tau said, aiming his sword, and there he was, not thirty strides away.

  Warlord Achak had made it to the end of the cove along with three raiders and his shaman. The rest of the Xiddeen were retreating while fighting, and Tau had made it between them and his target. Out on the Roar, Kana’s ship was being hammered by the breakwater and looked in danger of sinking, but if the longboat made it past the point where the waves were cresting, it’d be a short journey to land and reinforcement.

  Tau looked at Themba.

  Themba took a deep breath. “Never lucky,” he said, and together, they went in.

  NAMES

  Achak was watching the incoming ships, so it was his raiders who saw Tau and Themba first. The Xiddeen, refusing to risk letting them come within a sword’s throw of the warlord, ran to meet them.

  Themba crossed bronze with the first one, a tall, slim man with face tattoos marred by his heavy scarring. Tau, slower to join the battle, was left to deal with the other two. The one who got to him first let out an ululating cry and actually threw a spear at him.

  Moving more on instinct than with sense, Tau dodged it, stumbled because of the weight he had to put on his injured leg, and straightened up, swords high, to block the hatchet hissing through the night toward his skull. He stopped the bronze-and-bone weapon from finding his face with one sword, but the collision of blades slammed his broken fingers together, and he nearly dropped his weapon. Teeth clenched against the pain, Tau cut down with his other blade and tore a hole through the raider’s throat.

  The dead man pitched forward, and before his body hit the red sand, the remaining warrior, a short and heavyset spearwoman, was stabbing at Tau.

  Tau tried to dance backward, but his movements were more drunken gait than graceful steps. Advancing, she kept him at bay with her stabbing, and if her rhythm hadn’t been so precise, he’d have had more difficulty shearing away her fingers.

  She screamed and jumped back when her fingers and the spear fell free of her hand, and Tau limped past her, only twenty strides away from Achak.

  The warlord was no longer watching the ocean. He was standing next to his shaman, his spear ready and his eyes fixed on Tau. Loosening his wrists, Tau twirled his swords and took a step in the warlord’s direction, and then he heard the thunder of heavy footfalls to his left.

  He glanced over. It was the enraged Xiddeen, and she was charging at him with her spear held high. She was moving fast but was too late. He’d get to the warlord before she could get to him.

  He took another step, caught the word she was shouting at him, and stopped moving. The enraged spearwoman, running faster than any normal person could, was shouting one word over and over again.

  “Jai-ehd!” she said. “Jai-ehd!”

  His lips curling back to reveal his teeth, Tau turned away from the man who was his target and toward the enraged spearwoman. He remembered her now. It was the way she’d said his umqondisi’s name. She was the one who had murdered Jayyed.

  She staggered to a stop outside the reach of his blades, her chest heaving from the run and her eyes fixed on him. “Jai-ehd,” she said again, hefting her spear.

  Tau remained motionless, thinking about what was to come, and then, nodding more to himself than to anyone else, he spoke. “You’ve killed yourself,” he told her.

  She lunged at him, stabbing for his heart with superhuman speed. He expected the attack but not how fast it came, and to avoid being skewered, he leapt off the killing line. Pain shot up his leg as he did it, threatening to incapacitate him, but drowning out the agony with hate, he twisted away from the Xiddian’s spear and whipped his weak-side sword into the small of her back.

  The spearwoman was wearing unplated leathers, and though a weapon of bronze might have penetrated the animal hide, it would not have cut her enraged skin. But Tau was not wielding weapons of bronze, and when it struck, his dragon-scale blade parted her leathers as easily as a father plaiting his child’s hair. The sword’s edge dug into her flesh and caught there, dragging Tau forward as, crying out, she pulled away.

  Flowing with her sudden movement, Tau cocked his left arm back and fired his other blade for her belly. She should have died then. She shouldn’t have been fast enough to do as she did, but with Tau’s sword a handspan from opening her middle, the spearwoman sliced down and struck his blade with the bone dagger she had in her off hand. Th
e counter slammed Tau’s sword down and away from her body, dragging him behind his weapon and shattering her dagger in an explosion of sharp fragments that sliced at the skin on his hands and face.

  Turning his fall into a roll, Tau kept a tight hold of his other sword, the one still embedded in the small of the spearwoman’s back. It pulled along behind him as he went, and he felt its edge catch and rake across her enraged skin, tearing a shallow line into her side as it ripped free.

  Having moved past and behind her, Tau sprang to his feet and spun, his weapons ready to blow holes in her back. She was already coming for him, and with her spear leading the way, she threw the handle of her broken dagger at his head with her other hand.

  Knocking the dagger from the air with one sword, Tau bent beneath her first and second spear thrusts, then slashed the sword in his right hand at the same cut he’d opened on her side two breaths earlier. His sword connected; she yelped and wheeled away, and, hunched over her twinned wounds, she backed off.

  “Say his name again!” Tau shouted, going after her with his swords spinning.

  She snarled, meeting him in kind, her spear streaking through the air. They clashed and she was bigger. They struck at each other and it was obvious she was stronger. They fought with wild fury, and anyone watching could see that she was faster. But against Tau Solarin, champion of the Omehi, none of it mattered.

  Six, sixteen, then sixty wounds sprang up on the spearwoman’s leathers, face, and flesh, until she was awash in blood and flailing about wildly, fighting from her back foot as her eyes rolled in her skull. Tau stalked her, tormenting her, and she staggered back, desperate to get away from the black blades that sapped her strength and razored open her skin.

  “Say his name again!” he screamed.

  And she screamed back. It was a guttural sound, instinctual, full of fear and anger. It was an admission of defeat and a refusal to surrender.

  The enraged spearwoman, her body a wreck and at risk of killing the one empowering her, let the effects of the shaman’s gifts leave her so that she might spare his life. It happened quickly, in a flash of light, and without the shaman’s gifts to sustain her, she stumbled about, near collapse, her eyes so dull they looked lifeless already.