Tau wanted to protest, but Kagiso had his sword out and was already swinging. Tau backed off, and, worried about getting hurt, he fought defensively. Kagiso took this as a chance to push the pace, increasing the strength of his swings.
Tau made sure to be aggressive enough to keep him at bay. If he took an unblocked blow, the injury would be serious. He considered asking again if Kagiso would use his practice blade, but after their first few engagements, he realized Kagiso was no swordsman.
The discovery turned Tau’s concern to surprise. The only other Noble he’d crossed swords with was Jabari, and he’d believed all Nobles to be as capable. Kagiso’s hack-and-slash style flew in the face of that belief, and Tau wondered if the man he faced was a poor fighter or a more accurate representation of the abilities of his kind. If the latter was the case, Jabari would make short work of the men he faced.
More likely, thought Tau, Kagiso was simply a Noble son who had never taken to his duties. It would hurt Izem Okafor to have a son who failed to make the citadel. It would also hurt Kagiso’s chances at a good marriage.
“Hey, Tau!” Jabari said, followed with a reluctant, “Kagiso.”
Jabari didn’t break his form or momentum but indicated a direction with his head.
“See there,” he said, “that’s Jayyed Ayim, the ex-adviser to the Guardian Council.”
Tau looked and saw him. Jayyed Ayim was a Lesser dressed in the grays of an Ihashe warrior. He was in his middle years, almost as tall as a Noble, and nearly as big. Tau whistled to himself and looked back to Jabari.
His friend was smiling, and even from several strides away, Tau could see the mischief in his eyes. “The way my father tells it, he’s probably a match for many Indlovu.”
Kagiso took the bait and scoffed. “A Lesser as good as an Indlovu?”
“Perhaps that’s too far a walk down the path,” Jabari said, “but given the swordsmanship I’ve already seen today, I’m certain he’d make short work of at least a few of us.”
Kagiso’s mouth tightened and his nostrils flared wide as a rock lizard’s frill, but Jabari ignored him, speaking to Tau instead. “After your testing,” he said, “do everything you can to get into Jayyed’s scale. You want to train under a man like that.… He might even make you change your mind about the Ihashe.”
Tau nodded agreeably and gave the ex-adviser turned fighting instructor another glance. He had a square jaw and a heavy brow and walked with the sure movements of a fighter. It wasn’t hard to imagine him as skilled with a blade.
Beside him were two bigger men, and without their formal attire, it took Tau a breath to recognize them. Jayyed Ayim was with Dejen Olujimi and Abasi Odili, the chairman of the Guardian Council.
“He’s with Councillor Odili and—” started Tau, before lurching aside to avoid a wild swing from Kagiso.
Off-balance, Tau blocked another strike, turned the third, and had to drop to his knees to duck the fourth, aimed for his neck.
“Char and ashes!” shouted Tau, standing up. “Are you mad… nkosi?”
“Pay attention, Lesser! You’re sparring against a Noble.”
“Easy, Kagiso,” said Jabari. He’d stopped his form work and was watching the two of them. He’d seen Kagiso swing for Tau’s head. “This is sparring. Why do you have a sharp blade?”
Kagiso didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed Tau, swinging like a drunk trying to catch a fly.
“Calm yourself!” Jabari hissed. “They’re walking this way.”
Tau risked a look behind him, almost got his nose chopped off, and had to bring his full attention back to Kagiso. There was bloodlust in the fat man’s eyes as Kagiso came at him again, and Tau wasn’t about to risk injury.
He blocked the Petty Noble’s swing and stepped in, throwing his body weight against him, shouldering him aside. Kagiso staggered back, tripped, and fell to the dirt.
Jabari started to laugh but stifled it. From his ass, Kagiso glared. Then his eyes flickered past Tau’s shoulder and his face went blank. Tau worried he’d hurt him and was about to beg forgiveness, when Kagiso bumbled to his feet and charged, his razor-sharp blade leading the way.
“Blood will show!” Kagiso yelled.
Tau had no idea what the idiot was doing, but he was done playing. He sidestepped Kagiso’s lumbering charge and smashed the flat of his blade into the Noble’s back. Kagiso was launched from his feet and hit the ground hard, skipping across it like a poorly thrown stone in a pond.
“By the Cull, man, what are you doing?” said Tau, his blood red-hot, all thoughts of begging for anything burned away.
Kagiso moaned, then lifted his head, and blood gushed from his nose. It was broken, and that was when Tau became worried. Heart hammering, he looked up from Kagiso, and his worry turned to terror.
The chairman of the Guardian Council and the Ingonyama that was his Body, as well as Jayyed Ayim, Lekan, and Kagiso’s father, were there. Tau looked to Jabari for help, but Jabari was staring at him like he was covered in curse scars.
The fighting fields were silent, no one moved, and Tau felt like he was in a nightmare. It got worse when the guardian councillor began to clap.
DONE
Well, this is an interest,” said Abasi Odili, walking to Kagiso and bending over the downed man. “Who are you?” His Palm accent made the words glide together like they’d been greased. Kagiso moaned and Odili kicked him. “Speak up.”
“Kagiso, Kagiso Okafor,” he managed.
Tau had never seen a Noble treated this way and looked to Kagiso’s father. The man was only a few steps from his son but came no closer. He stood still and straight-backed, staring at his boy as he struggled.
“Kagiso…,” said Odili, straightening and turning to take in the growing crowd. “Well, we should thank Nkosi Kagiso. He’s saved us a lot of time.”
The crowd murmured.
“Kagiso,” said Odili, “was bested by a Lesser.” He examined Tau, his pupils black and face hard under the midday sun. “A Low Common.” Odili picked up Kagiso’s sword. “He fought him with sharpened bronze and the Common has a practice blade.” Odili clucked his tongue and turned the edges of his mouth up. It wasn’t a smile. It couldn’t be called that. “Indlovu, we leave for Kigambe. If these southern Nobles can be bested by Commons, then none are fit for the citadel.”
Odili began to walk away, and the murmuring gave way to shouts of protest. Tau saw his father in the crowd. Aren looked near to panic. Nearby, Lekan was trembling, he was so angry. Tau was about to go to Aren, thinking to explain about Kagiso, when Jabari threw down his sword in disgust. It had all gone wrong, and it was Tau’s doing.
“Councillor Odili,” he yelled, trying to be heard over the protesting crowd and hoping his form of address was an appropriate one. “Councillor Odili, please. Nkosi—”
Aren was on him then, pulling him back, trying to get him away. Tau resisted. He had to fix this. Odili stopped. There was a chance.
With his back turned, the councillor spoke. “You, little Common, are lucky I don’t have you hanged for attacking and injuring a Noble. Scurry back to your mud hole now, before I change my mind.”