Tau gripped his sword with both hands. It wasn’t meant to be swung that way, but Uduak was angry and strong enough to kill him if Tau blocked wrong with one hand. Tau thought about playing keep-away. He was a point up, and if he could stay out of reach for the rest of the match…
Uduak must have understood Tau’s thinking. He was angry but smart enough to move forward with care. He cut off all angles of escape, giving Tau no room to dance. Then he began to take Tau apart.
The first strike that Tau blocked rattled his teeth. The next almost knocked him out of the circle. The third he didn’t time well enough, and Uduak’s linen-covered blade slapped him in the shoulder, cutting him within the rules and flinging him to the dirt. The Proven called a point for Uduak and the match was tied.
Tau scrambled to his feet, but Uduak moved with speed, his sword already swinging. With no other choice but being chopped in two, Tau jumped toward Uduak and inside the deadliest part of the sword’s arc. When he was hit, he wasn’t sure he hadn’t been hewn apart anyway.
The blow sent him flying and he crashed into the packed clay of the fighting circle, tumbling head over heels until his helm popped up and off his head like a startled locust. Tau groaned and found he couldn’t draw a full breath.
“Point!” the Proven called out.
Tau was losing and the crowd chanted something guttural, ugly. “Uduak! Uduak! Uduak!”
On will alone, Tau got to his feet. The world was tilting, his chest was a maze of agony, and he still hadn’t caught his breath, but he lifted his sword and pointed it at the man for whom the crowd cheered.
“Cek your nine,” Tau said, sword arm quivering.
Uduak sneered and came on. Tau let him come and, at the last moment, he darted to the right, away from Uduak’s sword. Gripping his blade, Tau spun in a circle, hoping the momentum-powered strike would smash into Uduak’s side, break something, and finish the man.
Only, his sacrifice swing didn’t hit flesh. It clanged against Uduak’s blocking blade, jarring Tau to his seeds and making him stumble. Uduak jerked his weapon away, lifting his sword high but letting his shield drop. He meant to finish Tau with an overhead blow.
Tau stabbed out and over Uduak’s lowered shield but was too close for power. His sword nudged Uduak in the stomach, soft as a first kiss.
“Point…,” the Proven said, voice rising like it was a question.
Uduak shot the Proven a look, growled, grabbed Tau’s sword, and tore it from his hands. He tossed the weapon across the circle, snatched a fistful of Tau’s gambeson, and yanked him close, bringing them face-to-face.
Tau punched him. Uduak didn’t seem to notice. Tau hit him again. Uduak smashed his forehead into Tau’s face and let him drop to the ground, blood gushing from Tau’s cut. Uduak’s brick of a head had torn free all the scabbing.
Uduak kicked him in the side and Tau cried out. For some reason, he could no longer hear the crowd, though he could see them all around him, screaming, demanding more violence. And one person stood out. It was someone he recognized. Jayyed Ayim, ex-adviser to the Guardian Council and umqondisi to the Ihashe isikolo, was watching.
“He has a twelve count to rise,” the Proven shouted over the crowd to Uduak. “Or… you can finish him.”
“He is finished,” the big man said.
Tau was weaponless and battered. He had no strength left and no chance to beat the man who stood over him. He was going to lose and wanted to lie there in the mix of blood, sand, and shame. He wanted to lie there and die.
Uduak leaned over him. “Nine,” he snarled, spitting in Tau’s face, before turning away and lifting his arms in victory.
The thick gob of phlegmy saliva clung to Tau’s cheek and neck. He left it there when he stood. He left it there when he ran at Uduak and tackled him.
The big man squawked as they went down. They rolled once, Tau got on top, and he rained down blows. Uduak still had his sword and shield, but from his back and in close combat, they were more hindrance than help.
“Nceku!” Tau swore in Uduak’s face. “Nceku! Nceku!”
Uduak needed a free hand to deal with Tau but couldn’t shake his shield free. He dropped his sword and used that hand to grab Tau by the head. He squeezed and tossed Tau aside like he was a child.
Tau landed beside the enormous sword, picked it up, and squared off with Uduak, who had only his shield. The crowd was silent.
Uduak stared at Tau like he was the only other being in existence. “I’m going to kill you.”
Tau was having a hard enough time holding the huge sword and couldn’t think of a response. So he attacked. Uduak opened his shield, offering up a perfect target, and Tau stabbed him full in the chest.
Uduak took the blow, took hold of Tau’s right wrist, the one holding the sword, and pulled Tau to him. If the blades had been uncovered, if they had been razor sharp, Uduak would have died. The blade was not sharp. The blade was not uncovered. It did not kill Uduak. It dug into his gambeson, cutting into his flesh a fingerspan, and he bashed it away, still holding Tau’s wrist.
“Point!” screeched the Proven. “That was a point!”
Tau struggled and Uduak lifted his bronze shield into the air, aiming its edge. Tau’s eyes went wide, fear coursing through him. He fought Uduak’s grip but might as well have pulled on a mountain. Uduak brought the shield down and Tau was screaming before it smashed into his wrist. His screams grew louder when the bones there shattered.
Uduak released him and Tau went down, clutching his mangled arm. Uduak lifted the shield again, aiming for Tau’s chest.
“Nine!” Uduak bellowed, but Tau didn’t hear him over the pain.
“Two hundred! Two hundred! The match is over!” called the Proven, hobbling over as fast as he could on one leg and crutches.
Uduak turned to the Proven in disbelief and back to Tau. His lips were curled, teeth bared, and the muscles on his arms were flexed, tensed with the need to cave in Tau’s chest.
“Kill him and you forfeit!” said the Proven.
Uduak screamed in frustration, tossed the shield aside, and sent a boot flying for Tau’s head, knocking him senseless.
CHAPTER FIVE
SCALE
Tau woke on a raised straw pallet. It was night and he was in a large room with several other beds. His head throbbed and his wrist was splinted. He moaned and two shadows approached.
“Where am I?” Tau asked, throat dry as a dead man’s eyes.
“The Ihashe barracks in Kigambe,” answered the smaller of the two shadowed men. His accent reeked of High Governor caste. “We have been accepted as initiates, though the third day of trials is still to come.”
“Accepted?” asked Tau.
“Yes, you’re right to question it.” The smaller man stepped into the light. He was a little taller than Tau, fit if wiry, and, unusual for Lessers, had green eyes. “My name is Hadith and I won ten matches. You already know him.”
The second and much bigger man stepped into the light. It was Uduak. He looked like he wanted to finish the job he’d started in the fighting circle.
“Uduak beat the piss from you,” Hadith said, “went on to win his next match and the match after that. He also has ten wins… plus a tie. Which makes you a strange case.” Hadith tapped his lower lip with a finger. “I have ten wins. Uduak has ten wins. But you? You have five wins, a tie, and a broken arm. Yet, we three are Ihashe initiates together. The Goddess grows and reaps while mortals dream, does she not?”