Chinedu coughed, a loud, whooping sound that broke the spell, startling many in the crowd. A woman fainted, whether from emotion or sun, Tau did not know. Then Hadith raised a fist and it was time.
Scale Jayyed stopped and Hadith stepped forward, setting himself apart from the rest. He called out across the distance, loud enough for the crowds to hear. “Inkokeli Mayumbu Opeyemi of Scale Ojuolape, I have heard you are a Greater Noble slated to be an Ingonyama. I have heard your intelligence and deeds honor the blood of Nobles everywhere, but I would see it proved.”
Mayumbu Opeyemi called a halt and, matching Hadith, he came forward. He was short for a Greater Noble, which meant he was only half a head taller than Uduak, but he was also broader in the shoulders and chest, and his neck was as thick as Tau’s forearms.
Mayumbu’s bald head glistened with sweat and his skin was dark as lightning-charred wood. He cracked his neck and addressed Hadith, his voice a scorpion’s sting. “Before the morning’s done, you’ll have your proof, Lesser.”
“Indeed, and yet, I have an offer you may find interesting.”
“There are no interests between dragons and inyoka.”
“Truly? When what I offer is the Queen’s Melee itself?”
Mayumbu blinked. “I’ll waste no more words on you.”
“I mean what I say, Inkokeli. I offer you the melee today. Will you take it?”
“It is not yours to offer, and if it were, I’d tear it from you.”
“Maybe you will, Inkokeli. I’ve seen the betting and heard the odds. Mayumbu and his men, favored to come second, behind the greatest Noble initiate to have ever entered the citadel, Inkokeli Kellan Okar of Scale Osa.”
“Little man, I will kill you and crush Okar.”
“And how many men will today cost? How many did you bring to this field? Forty-four? I’m Governor caste. One thing we do very well is count. And, at last count, Okar lost five men in yesterday’s skirmish. Today he faces Scale Ongani under Inkokeli Mukuka Olumide…”
Even from a hundred strides away, Tau could see Mayumbu’s disgust. Scale Ongani was the weakest group of men that had made the melee and, somehow, they had survived day one. After losing forty-two men in the first skirmish, Mukuka would lead no more than twelve against Scale Osa. Kellan would obliterate them.
“We’ll be sequestered. We won’t have the chance to see the glorious battle between Ongani and Osa,” Hadith said, causing laughter to ripple through the crowds, “but I feel confident in its outcome.”
“Make your point,” said Mayumbu.
“Osa will go through to the semifinals and, as we stand now, there is a twenty-five percent chance that one of us will face them—”
“A twenty-five percent chance I will face them!”
“That’s… that’s what I said. Regardless,” Hadith continued, “do you think to battle us here, lose more men, and prevail against Okar? No, Mayumbu. Your journey ends here, on this battleground. Tomorrow is nothing more than a formality—”
“We shall see!”
“Unless…” Hadith smiled his best grin.
Mayumbu licked his lips, ready to order the attack. “Unless what?”
“Unless we find another way.”
“What way, fool?”
“Why risk all our men? Why risk our chance to make it to the semifinals? Why risk anything at all? Here’s my offer, Inkokeli Opeyemi—we, as leaders of our scale, swear before the umqondisi, Gifted, and crowd, to duel for the win. To a man, the loser’s scale will call out for Goddess’s mercy, leaving the winning scale to go through to tomorrow’s combat with the most men possible. With a duel, we give ourselves a real chance at victory, before queen and country.”
Mayumbu inhaled. It was his first breath since comprehending the offer’s gist. The man was caught on Hadith’s hook and Tau knew that Mayumbu was already picturing himself before Queen Tsiora on the melee’s final day.
“I fight you for the win?” Mayumbu asked, eyes closed down to slits.
Hadith chuckled. “No. I may as well beg mercy now, were that the game. We present our best and you present yours.”
Mayumbu snorted. “You mean to test that two-sworded freak against me.”
“I may. I pick one man, you do the same. Doesn’t have to be you, Inkokeli. If you don’t believe you can win, put up another.” Hadith spread his arms wide. “That’s the offer.”
Mayumbu pointed to Tau. “You think your kudliwe can beat me?” He laughed. “Give him three swords, I’ll kill him just the same.”
There it was. Hadith had done it. Tau watched him turn to the crowd. “You’ve heard my offer. You’ve heard the Greater Noble and inkokeli, Mayumbu of Scale Ojuolape, declare that he can best our man in single combat. This duel is to mercy, or death, with the remainder of the loser’s scale to accept the result and surrender the skirmish. Women and men of the peninsula, do we have your blessing?”
The crowd screamed their blessings with the thunder of ten thousand voices that threatened to bring the mountain quaking down on all their heads.
Tau had to respect Mayumbu’s self-control. He could tell the inkokeli saw the trap into which he’d stepped. The impressive thing was how fast the man adjusted to the new reality, accepting that a new path had emerged where there had not been one before.
Mayumbu took a careful step on the path, testing its possibilities. “Can this be done?” he shouted to the group of umqondisi officiating the skirmish. The group huddled, conferred, and the lead officiant, a muscled but wiry umqondisi, nodded to Mayumbu.
The night prior, when Jayyed outlined Hadith’s plan, he’d explained that the melee’s rules did not forbid this. So long as Mayumbu accepted, it could be done. Of course, Jayyed also explained, losing the duel did nothing to bind the rest of the scale to its result.
Scale Ojuolape could still attack, wipe out the Ihashe, and move on in the tournament. It was likely they did not know that. It was even more likely that, if their inkokeli lost, their honor would force them to do as promised and they’d forfeit.
It was a good plan, a simple plan. Hadith had played his part. It was Tau’s turn.
“Scale Jayyed calls Tau Solarin, Common of Kerem, Lesser of the Chosen, to fight,” Hadith announced, both hands raised as if he were a priest delivering a holy proclamation. Tau unsheathed his swords and stepped up beside Hadith. The Crags were quiet.
A hundred strides away, Mayumbu’s unit leaders tried to have a word, perhaps to put up another man, perhaps to offer advice. Whatever it was, Tau could not hear and Mayumbu would not listen. He was furious. Again, Hadith’s plan in action.
By naming Tau as both a Common and Lesser, he was goading Mayumbu, telling the crowds that here was a match where the outcome should be as certain as the sun’s rising. A Greater Noble and a Common dueling? What a farce. What a show.
Mayumbu had been burdened with the weight of everyone’s honor. He fought in the name of his scale, the citadel, the Nobles. If he did anything less than demolish Tau, the duel would feel a failure.
“Come, then, Common of Kerem,” said Mayumbu, sword drawn, shield mounted, and advancing. “Let’s get this done and chase the stench of your Lesser stock from the melee.”