Tau nodded and let his head hang, facing the dirt. It would break Aren’s heart if he knew what Tau was planning. “I’ve experienced something similar,” he said, reminding his father he’d fought in Daba.
“Yes, I think I try to forget you have…” There was a pause. It looked like Aren wanted to say more. “Still,” he said, “even though you’re not fighting today, keep your sword nearby. Warm up with Jabari and put yourself in a fighting mind. Give your body the same feelings and stress. It’ll help when it’s your turn. Trust me.”
“Always,” Tau told his father as the column of men slowed to a stop.
“The testing,” Aren said. “We’re here.”
SHARP
Below them were flat fields sitting in a small depression in the otherwise hilly scrublands that Kerem shared with Mawas. The Drudge, who had prepared the fighting circles, had done an excellent job. The stones that made up each of the ten circles were pressed into the earth and painted red. They would catch the eye but were sunk low enough to avoid catching anyone’s foot.
In each fighting circle, the scrublands’ silt-like soil was covered with clay, carried all the way from Mawas. The clay had been laid, smoothed, and allowed to harden under Xidda’s sun. It was a perfect fighting surface.
Up and down the length of the fallow fields, the black flags of the Indlovu Citadel flew above their sand-colored tents. The flags had been wired with bronze to look as if they moved on the currents of a strong wind.
Tau scanned the fields. Many Nobles had already arrived, and Tau knew Aren would have preferred to have done the same, but it was customary for the more influential Nobles to take their time, and Lekan, in his conceit, had dallied.
The umbusi’s firstborn stood at the head of the column, hands on hips, looking down on the assemblage as if they were all Lessers. In truth, the Nobles, come to watch their sons test, were Lekan’s peers if not betters. A few of them, like Greater Noble Thabo Oghenekaro, husband to the umbusi of Kigambe, greatly outranked fief Kerem and its Petty Nobles.
Still, the victory, however minor, was Lekan’s. The sun was almost at its zenith and the journey had been well timed. They were last to arrive. Even Ogozi of Mawas was already on the field.
“Let’s go down and get started,” said Lekan. “Where’s our spot, Aren?”
Tau’s father didn’t speak to Lekan, opting to point to a cordoned-off area close to the center of the field. Aren had sent several Drudge and two Ihagu a quarter moon early, to stake and hold their spot.
Lekan shaded his eyes. “Good. We’ll have a view of nearly all the fighting circles.”
The column started down and Aren turned to Jabari. “We’ll set up, and Tau will see to your armor and helm. I want you to stretch and run through your forms. Nothing fancy. People will watch to see what forms you tend toward. Don’t give them that, just the basics.”
“Your will, Inkokeli Solarin,” Jabari said. His eyes narrowed as he chewed the inside of his cheek. The testing had become, Tau thought, a little too real for Jabari as well.
After that, things moved fast. The Drudge and Ihagu settled in and Jabari warmed up, then dressed. Tau did the same and the two men sparred. Aren didn’t watch them as much as glare at them. He corrected this and that, hovering like a mother over a newly walking babe. Tau did what he could to keep his “head straight,” but the energy on the fields was distracting.
Lessers scurried back and forth, attending to their betters. Ihagu were either set as guards or found spots to cheer on their Nobles. The Drudge dug out latrines, carted foodstuffs, or offered the young fighters gulps of water, cooling wet cloths, and even boiled mashed potatoes, for quick boosts of energy. Meanwhile, full-blooded Indlovu wandered the fields like they owned the earth beneath them.
The Indlovu were titans, every one. Most were head and shoulders taller than Tau, all of them were more muscular than he could ever hope to be, and quite a few looked like they could crush rocks with their bare hands. He watched them in awe.
“I have to go with your brother,” Aren told Jabari, avoiding Lekan’s honorific. “He’ll sign the official documents for your testing, and I’ll be back. The fighting will begin soon. Be ready.” But before Aren could leave, Lekan strolled over with an older Noble and a young man of age with Tau and Jabari.
“Aren,” Lekan said. “I have a task.” He indicated the Noble beside him. “This is Nkosi Izem Okafor and his second son, Kagiso.”
The difference between man and son couldn’t go without remark. Izem Okafor was gaunt and tall, even for a Noble. He had a stern face and long fingers, and his skin was well oiled, despite the heat. He was shiny but wasn’t sweating, and Tau wondered how the man managed that trick.
The son, on the other hand, wasn’t much taller than Tau. He was pudgy, his eyes were set deep in his moon of a head, and his skin was the color of light topsoil, rather than the deep-earth dark that was characteristic of the Chosen.
“Kagiso has drawn one of the first matches,” said Lekan, “but has no one with whom to warm up.”
Aren glared, his look a clear warning.
“I believe,” Lekan went on, “that your son could step in and serve Kagiso in this regard.”
“I would be indebted,” Izem Okafor said, his voice melodic, a surprise given his ascetic appearance. “I wish to give Kagiso every opportunity to succeed.”
“Indeed,” said Lekan.
Aren was furious. He hid it, thought Tau, but he was furious.
“Tau, warm up with Nkosi Kagiso,” Aren said, managing to obey the order without speaking to Lekan. “Nkosi Jabari, please do not interrupt your forms. I’ll return once your documents have been registered with the citadel.”
Aren strode off without excusing himself and without waiting for Lekan, causing the older Okafor to raise an eyebrow.
Lekan struggled to keep his composure. “Yes, yes. Always such a rush at these things,” he said, as if he attended a testing every cycle. “Shall we, Izem?”
Izem Okafor inclined his head and, together, they left. Izem, Tau noticed, did not exchange any words with his son.
“Well met, Jabari,” said Kagiso, his voice, like his father’s, defying expectation. For all his girth, Kagiso spoke like his seeds had yet to drop.
“Kagiso…,” Jabari said, continuing his forms.
“Haven’t seen you since the Grow festival in Mawas.”
“Has it been so long?” Jabari said, showing his back to the heavyset Noble as he worked through a thrust, low-cut, and riposte combination.
“We should get started, nkosi,” Tau said to Kagiso.
Kagiso turned to Tau, looked him up and down, and turned back to Jabari. “What a horror show, this testing. The life of a Noble son, yes?” Kagiso’s grin revealed a row of teeth yellowed with calla leaf stains.
Jabari replied with a grunt.
Kagiso, disappointed, switched his attention to Tau. “Well, Lesser, let’s get this over with.”
Tau moved them back a few paces from where Jabari was working. “Nkosi, would you like me to fetch your practice sword?” he asked, seeing Kagiso wearing sharpened bronze.
“It’s light sparring,” said Kagiso, “and it’ll take too long to get it. My match is coming up. Let’s go.”