Stars & Ashes

by Teagan Kearney

  The nineteen nervous shiny-faced candidates stood to attention, quivering with anticipation as the Heir strode in and came to a halt in front of them with the Chenjerai arranged in a semi-circle behind him. Nagavi had drilled them on how to respond—whether they failed or succeeded, and Kia kept going over both situations in her mind. If she didn’t achieve her objective, doubtless Nagavi would collect her afterward and dispose of her, dropping her off like dirty laundry somewhere or other.

  “Thank you, all of you, for your efforts during the Finals, your training period, as well as for the work you put in to get here. I promise you, your endeavors have not been in vain, and you and your family will reap the rewards throughout the rest of your lives.” Lord Rial smiled, a genuine smile, his eyes moving along the line and making eye contact with everybody.

  Kia kept the bland look on her face and ignored the shiver down her spine as her eyes met his.

  "The time has come to name the four candidates who will join my elite guards. Will the six candidates still in the running step forward.”

  Nagavi had positioned the six of them in the middle of the line and they moved forward together, waiting with hearts beating fast and scarcely daring to breathe.

  “I call Jalux Petturi.”

  Jalux took three steps, went down on his left knee in front of the Heir, and bowed his head.

  Lord Rial placed his hand on Jalux’s head. “Jalux Petturi, do you willingly dedicate your body to protecting me, devote your mind to my service, and surrender your heart to me for the rest of your life or until I release you from this vow?”

  “Yes, my lord, I do.” Jalux’s voice was hushed and reverent.

  “Rise, Jalux Petturi.” Jalux rose, and the Heir kissed him first on one cheek and then on the other. “Welcome to the Chenjerai.”

  “My life is yours,” Jalux swore the oath before joining the guards behind Lord Rial. When he turned around, his face was flushed, his eyes shone, and Kia could see how hard it was for him to contain his elation. Jalux hadn’t scored in the top five, but his resourceful all-round competence and amiable character made him an asset to any team.

  “Tamaiko Rodiny, step forward.”

  The same process was repeated with Tamaiko. His success wasn’t a surprise, and he looked sedate and self-possessed as he joined Jalux.

  A quiet dark man, Ohiko Kizon, became the third member. Ohiko had partnered Kia as pilot on a few of the goka simulation exercises, and she’d gotten on well with him. Although it might be more correct to say he hadn’t irritated her as much as some of the others.

  “And the last candidate.”

  Kia locked her knees. For the sake of the universe, spit it out, she thought. She did want this and had worked hard even if her motivations weren’t the purest. If she failed, it would be one of the few instances in her life when she’d put in this much effort and not succeeded. She stared at the shine on his dark brown boots.

  “Kia O’Afon, step forward.”

  She almost gasped in relief but managed to contain herself and kneel before the Heir. His hand, when it came, as he seemed determined to make her wait, was heavy, and she could feel his splayed fingers as they pressed on her scalp. As she uttered the vows, swearing her life away and sacrificing every part of herself in service to him, something inside her cracked. When she stood, and he kissed her cheeks, a flush of heat ran through her, and she could still feel the burn where his lips had pressed against her skin as she moved away from him to join the ranks of the Chenjerai.

  “The rest of you will return home tomorrow, and I am grateful for your willingness to serve the empire. Tonight, though,” Lord Rial grinned, “the Chenjerai will be your hosts and shower you with honors.”

  Everyone beamed, and Kia realized he was referring to the celebration Jalux had mentioned.

  “Nagavi, please announce my dueling partner.”

  Ah, an opportunity approaches. Kia understood the impossibility of killing Lord Rial if he called her name, but she would enjoy the chance to attack him, without ending up screaming in agony. She held her breath.

  “Lord Rial will take on all four of his new guards in a swordfight. Blades are of your choice.”

  The candidates gave a collective gasp while the Chenjarani grinned. Clearly, the Heir had performed this exhibition before.

  “Jalux, Tamaiko, Ohiko, and Kia, this way.” Nagavi’s voice broke the state of mental vacuity that had momentarily struck them witless.

  The newly selected guards marched after their trainer, practically levitating with exhilaration, as he led them into a large well-equipped armory off the gym hall. They stopped short, bemused by the sight of row upon row of arms from the latest versions of modern hand weapons to walls filled with a dazzling array of different swords on racks.

  “Wow!” Jalux’s mouth hung open. “I’ve died and gone to Ipharadesi.”

  “Choose,” Nagavi ordered.

  Kia surveyed the collection, noting the slight sheen of well cared for blades. She ran her finger along the edge of a cutlass. Honed to perfection. She eyed the thin red line on her finger and sucked the blood away, knowing the nanobots would heal the cut before the match began.

  Four against one. Srilao legends spoke of men who could simultaneously fight and defeat many opponents. A gudari was a master who could fight one-on-one; an omkulu-gudari could defeat up to ten men. A maha-omkulu-gudari could take on a hundred men and win.

  Today, she’d find out if those tales had any truth in them.

  “That weapon would suit you.”

  She jumped, startled at Nagavi’s silent approach. The man was uncanny in the way he moved. She studied the slim, light-weight curve of burnished metal ending in an ebony hilt he pointed out. Her face lit up. “Yes, that looks… good.” Good was a hugely inadequate description for the exquisite looking weapon, but for once, she was at a loss for words.

  Nagavi lifted it down, grasped the sword at the base of the hilt, held it upright with the edge toward himself, and offered it for her inspection in a surprisingly respectful manner. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn it was her own saber from Sestris. Testing the point of balance, she was satisfied it was light enough for any quick movement and solid enough for any cut or thrust she might want to make.

  “This,” Nagavi touched the control implant at the base of her skull, “has been deactivated and will be removed before you officially start your duties. When you go out there, what you have to decide is do you want to live or die?”

  She’d become accustomed to the tiny hard disc under her skin and most of the time no longer remembered its presence. On the rare occasion she did, it was because she was making the mental adjustment of switching her irritation, anger, or rage from her preferred target to Nagavi or whoever was her opponent or closest. The device had achieved its purpose of teaching her to control and contain her murderous fury. At present that same animus lay cloaked and passive.

  Nagavi was warning her that if she followed through on any homicidal scheme, it wouldn’t be Lord Rial’s lifeblood staining the floor.

  She nodded. “Message understood.” As Nagavi turned away, she murmured, “and thank you.”

  He didn’t acknowledge her gratitude, but a slight turn of the head said he’d heard. Before they left the weapons room, Nagavi attached small guards to the tips of the blades.

  What a shame, Kia thought. She had hoped to slice him up a little.

  Tamaiko had also chosen a saber, longer and heavier than hers to suit his height and reach. Ohiko had picked out an elegant but lethal looking rapier while Jalux had a broadsword as he liked the extra weight and had the strength to wield it.

  “What’s our strategy?” Ohiko asked in a low voice as they exited the armory behind Nagavi.

  “Position ourselves at the compass points. Don’t get too close to each other, encircle him, and keep moving. Don’t stop long enough to let him engage,” Kia answered. “He must have the latest implants, therefore make it in and out as fast
as you can. Then let the next person take him on, and that way we might have a chance of wearing him down.”

  Tamaiko looked at her as if she were a talking rock. “I’m not having a go at you, but you know nothing about the Heir, do you? It’s common knowledge he hates and won’t abide any implants in himself or his elites. But I like your idea.”

  Kia sighed. Tamaiko was right. She’d grown up learning nothing about the Heir, even less about his father, and hated her experiences with their empire. Sestris had been a free planet, and she hadn’t needed such information. She did know how to use a blade though. She sucked in a deep breath; this was an opportunity to show Lord Rial what she was capable of.

  The others grunted their agreement to the tactic and took up their positions with a casual ease as if working in a team like this was a regular occurrence.

  The Chenjerai and the unsuccessful candidates watched from the balcony, and a great cheer arose as Lord Rial strode into the arena. He’d changed out of his uniform, wore a pair of loose flowing black pants, and a black sleeveless tunic—nothing to restrain or hamper his movements. The rapier in his right hand looked heavier and longer than normal and was most likely made to his individual specifications. He held a broadsword in his left hand. If the extra speed and strength the nanobots gave her were anything to judge by, even with four of them against him, they’d be lucky to see him break a sweat.

  Nagavi, along with Annen and Cheydii would referee the contest.

  The Heir stopped by Nagavi. “Is this what happens when you free a bird from its cage?” He indicated their arrangement.

  Kia perked up.

  Nagavi gave a short grunt, and Lord Rial marched past her into the center of their circle.

  Shh, little bird. Yes, she remembered. She gritted her teeth. She’d show him who was a little bird, then she choked back a laugh, realizing he’d used the simplest of techniques to unbalance her.

  “Standard contest rules: no gouging, or hitting, or scratching. Are you ready?”

  The new guards copied Lord Rial as he bowed to Nagavi, turned and made another deeper bow to the audience.

  Whoops, cheers, and enthusiastic clapping filled the hall.

  As Kia’s heart pounded a nervous rhythm in her chest, she glanced up at the watching audience.

  Most were alight with glee at the prospect of seeing their Lord defeat the newbies, and she recognized the quick whispered conversations of people placing bets, probably on how soon the bout would end. She did a short check. All that remained was to give herself over to the flow of action that combat demanded.

  “Begin,” Nagavi barked.

  Kia closed her mind against the urge to admire him as he rolled his shoulders back and shook himself, loosening up before raising his weapons. Tall, golden skinned with a perfect physique, all he’d have to do was give that tantalizing smile and… She kept an eye on his feet and scarcely caught the slight rise onto the balls of his feet as he moved, too fast, toward Ohiko.

  In the space of a single inhalation, Kia saw Lord Rial slip his rapier under the hapless man’s rim guard, roll his arm, flick Ohiko’s blade out of his grip, and send it clattering to the floor.

  “I surrender,” Ohiko said, bowing out.

  Kia moved sideways, watching as Rial swung his blades in slow lazy loops while his gaze scanned the three of them, aware he was deciding who he wanted to remove from the fight. “Circle,” she hissed, irritated he thought that little of them he had paused to calculate his next move.

  Jalux and Tamaiko, stunned by their comrade’s swift elimination, shuffled into action.

  Kia blurred forward, attacking him on the left, as Jalux, jettisoning the plan, simultaneously moved in on Rial’s right. The Heir spun around, his swords moving carelessly as he parried and deflected their thrusts and cuts with a slight smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Tamaiko’s movement.

  The Heir raised an eyebrow as she retreated and laughed, a low mellow sound that cut through the shuffle of their feet and the increasing gasps of their breathing, when Tamaiko slid in and took her place.

  As the Heir appeared to have his attention on the other two, Jalux lunged, bringing his broadsword down, aiming to smack Lord Rial’s arm with the flat of his blade and dislodge his sword.

  The Heir flowed backward, his smile widening as Jalux missed. He copied Jalux’s strike and brought his broadsword down hard and quick, catching Jalux’s knuckles.

  Steel clanged onto the floor, again.

  The audience breathed out a simultaneous “aah.”

  “I surrender,” Jalux bowed and retreated.

  Two down and two to go.

  Lord Rial shuffled to the side, keeping both his adversaries in sight and his blades moving.

  This was not heading anywhere near the conclusion Kia had hoped for. They were making no impact at all, and instead of wearing him down, her tactic was proving useless.

  He lifted his chin and smirked at her—a definite ‘Is this all you can manage? Come on, let’s see what you’ve really got’ look.

  Kia glanced at Lord Rial’s other side, then at Tamaiko. He blinked an acknowledgement.

  Kia attacked; wild sweeping cuts that had him shuffling backward, her gaze shifting between his body and his feet to check which way he’d move. Then she was backing up fast as, still keeping Tamaiko in sight, Rial stalked toward her, his arm out straight and his wider longer blade knocking hers sideways every time she lunged at him.

  Tamaiko rushed the Heir on his left, while Kia continued her attack on the right, and it seemed that for the blink of an eyelid, they had him on the defensive. Then, moving with a speed she wouldn’t have believed possible if she hadn’t seen it, he was behind Tamaiko with one arm tight around his throat, while the other held his blade tip to his captive’s ribs. Tamaiko dropped his weapon.

  Lord Rial released Tamaiko, who declared his surrender, retrieved his saber and stood to the side.

  Before the Heir turned around, Kia flew at him, kicking him hard on the side of his knee. He went down. At any other time, she’d have laughed at the utter disbelief on his face. “He didn’t mention kicking,” she said, but he was up again in a flash, and knocking her saber aside with broadsword.

  “You think I have an advantage with two swords?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he threw the broadsword aside and moved toward her.

  She backed off, spun around and ran at him again, but he brought his rapier down in a cut. She threw herself to her knees and slid underneath his weapon’s curving arc. Throwing away her shorter lighter saber, she picked up the broadsword he’d dropped, and was on her feet swinging the blade with two hands.

  “I see,” he said, his feet shushing across the floor as they circled. As they passed the spot where her discarded saber lay, he dropped his rapier and, without missing a step, picked up her sword. He eyed her with amusement. “Ah, we come to the heart of the matter. Is this equal enough for you?”

  Kia didn’t answer. He was playing with her and she would not give him the satisfaction of a response, but she wasn't going down without a fight either. She didn’t wait, but swung the bigger sword, pushed forward, cut, thrust, swung, turned, spun, and each time watched as her heavier blade slid off the saber as he deflected her attack.

  Then he came at her, quick and hard, his blade whipping, blurring through the air. He was unbelievably swift and agile, pushing her backward until she was barely holding him off. Increasing his speed, he rushed her, his sword a flurry of silver flashes, forcing her to shuffle back so fast, she stumbled and fell. One minute she was giving him as good as she got, and the next she was lying on her back, the tip of her own blade pressing against the base of her throat.

  “Do you submit to me, Kia O’Afon?” He regarded her coldly, no longer amused.

  She remembered another promise he’d demanded of her. Say it, he’d commanded. His tone had the same insistence. He wouldn’t stop until she said it out loud though why she had to submit and everyone else surren
der was a moot point as she considered the proximity of the sword tip to her jugular. She looked up at him, couldn’t hold his intense gaze and closed her eyes. “I submit, Lord Rial.”

  When she looked up, he was smiling, and he’d extended his hand to her. She reached out and let him pull her to her feet. That, she thought, isn’t a smile, that is a smug smirk.

  He beckoned Ohiko, Jalux, and Tamaiko forward to join them, and amid riotous roars, clapping, and whistles from the spectators, they bowed together to the audience.

  Chapter Fourteen: The Festival of Masks.

  After the Heir swept out, followed by his guards, Kia stood with Jalux, Tamaiko, and Ohiko accepting the back slaps, handshakes, and congratulations from the other candidates. Some were genuine, others weren’t, but all, to a greater or lesser extent, were laced with the inevitable envy of people seeing others gain what they desired.

  “Quiet!” bellowed Nagavi.

  After a month of training, their response was instant.

  Nagavi smiled. “Life has to go on. Those returning home, go and pack. Early tomorrow morning, you’ll leave for Djem’s spaceport and be on your way. Jalux, Tamaiko, and Ohiko pack up your stuff, Annen will take you to your new quarters. Kia, go with Cheydii. Candidates, for the last time, you are dismissed.”

  Kia sighed as the group dispersed, and she stood to the side waiting for Cheydii. Nagavi hadn’t told her to pack and move her things because she possessed nothing, but a few well-worn gray training jumpsuits which she no longer needed. His words were a reminder of her real status. Unlike the rest of the candidates, she was property, to be picked up and put down wherever her master decreed. She assumed they would provide her with whatever she needed to perform her duties as a Chenjerai. A glimmer of satisfaction at her success in being chosen eased the vacuum that the new change of circumstances brought. She had to admit, she’d adapted to the routine training had provided and even enjoyed it. Freedom from the hardships on Jahanamu had allowed her to adjust to the change of circumstances, and although Nagavi’s derision, if she didn't perform to his standard, had been cutting at times, it bore no comparison to her previous situation.