Fully enraged, Kellan stood head and shoulders taller than Uduak and must have outweighed Tau three times over. His sword dripped with gore and he roared with every swing, his blade coursing with equal ease through the air and through the bodies of all who faced him.
Not to be outdone, Kellan’s men played their part in the carnage. They held the line against the Xiddeen advance, dancing in and out of the fray, supporting their enraged inkokeli by ensuring the Xiddeen could not mass in enough numbers to overwhelm him.
Tau had grudging respect for the Indlovu’s bravery and tactics, but their efforts wouldn’t change the outcome. The citadel warriors were outnumbered, and with every breath, more hedeni boiled into the gully. The lizard riders were coming, skittering down the ridge on the backs of their fiends.
The Xiddeen, it seemed, had thinkers as clever as Hadith. They had not tracked straight from the ocean to Citadel City. They had gone the long way round the Fist, bypassing the plateau where Oluchi had hoped to engage them.
It was poor fortune. Given the prince’s presence, Wing Odihambo had hoped to serve as a rear guard to Wing Oluchi. They were not prepared for a fight like this. Tau moved closer, ready to fight his way past more Xiddeen and into the lines of the embattled Indlovu.
“Tau!”
He whirled and saw a furious Jayyed. Anan, Uduak, Hadith, Yaw, Chinedu, Themba, and all the men of Scale Jayyed were behind him.
“Jayyed.”
“Nceku! What do you think you’re doing?”
“I have to get Zuri,” he said, pointing to her.
Jayyed saw her and the anger fell from his face. It took Tau a breath, but he understood. Zuri wasn’t much younger than Jayyed’s daughter.
“Get her and we leave,” said Jayyed. He ordered his men into a fighting formation. “We’ll push through, bolster the Indlovu lines, but can’t stay. The gully is lost. That’s already determined. What isn’t yet determined is how many of us need to die in it.”
Tau nodded and pushed on, not waiting to see if Scale Jayyed followed. He killed a hedena, got to the Indlovu line, blocked the overzealous thrust of a terrified citadel initiate, shouted that he was on the half-wit’s side, and made his way into the ranks of Scale Osa.
Zuri saw him, and through the drain of maintaining Kellan’s enraging, he saw her surprise. Tau tried to smile, to reassure her. She did not look reassured.
Kellan and his red-stained sword flashed past Tau’s line of sight. Okar was doing as well as was possible given the circumstances. He was also taking hits that would have disabled or killed a normal man.
The enraging protected him, but there was a cost. Every blow Kellan took weakened the flow of energy coursing through him, and Zuri had to reinforce that energy by drawing more from Isihogo. The more energy she took in, the harder it would be for her to maintain her shroud. Already, she was rocking on her feet, her face wan, her eyes dazed. She couldn’t continue for much longer.
Tau had to get Zuri out, and the only sure way to do it was to make Kellan call a retreat. The gully was filled with Xiddeen, and Scale Jayyed didn’t have enough men to escape the battlefield without help. Tau needed these Indlovu, and they would listen only to Okar. Tau looked for the clearest path to Okar’s side and took it.
Wing Odihambo had not expected a fight, and the fight they’d found was with the entirety of the Xiddeen invading force. From its outset, the gully battle had been a lost cause. Tau knew this, as he knew the Xiddian in front of him would feint high and stab for his chest. He knew it with the same certainty he had when he leaned away from the thrust that the fighter had not yet thrown. And when the spear was thrust, Tau punched his sword up and through the hedena’s armpit, into his heart, killing him.
Kellan was close, but a Xiddian threw herself in Tau’s way. It was a warrior woman with full lips, caramel skin, and astonishing green eyes. She moved like an ocean storm, her bladework brilliant. He took her hand off at the wrist and she gawped at him, as if to ask why he’d done it. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t sure, but his bronze was hilt deep in her breastbone and there was nothing to say that would have meant a damn.
“You!” Okar bellowed at Tau.
Tau wasted no time. “The battle is lost. Call a retreat.”
Okar stove in a Xiddian’s skull with the edge of his shield. “No.”
“We can’t hold.”
“They killed him,” Okar said, teeth clenched, his sword wheeling this way, then that, demanding that those who opposed him either leap back or die.
“Who?”
“The prince!”
“Prince Xolani?” Tau said, unable to imagine Omehi royalty being killed in battle. It made no sense.
Okar grimaced at the name like the failure was his. “He’s dead.”
“Us dying won’t bring him back.”
“Giving time for the rest to escape,” Kellan grunted, still swinging.
It wasn’t true. Well, it was true, but it wasn’t Kellan’s real reason. Kellan wanted to die here, and Tau wanted to accuse him of that. That wouldn’t get Zuri out, though. “You’ve done what you can. Leave now or the rest of your men die. Your Gifted dies.”
Kellan swung his sword, clearing ground between him and those pressing forward. He spared Tau a glance and cast his eyes across the battle, which had long ago become a rout.
“Inkokeli Okar,” Tau tried, “you need to save the ones in your care.”
That got through. “Retreat!” shouted Kellan. “Retreat!” But it was too late.
Down the line from them the Xiddeen backed away, revealing the horror their press of bodies had kept hidden. Chinedu was closest, and Tau called out, screaming his sword brother’s name, not knowing if Chinedu heard him or if he noticed on his own. Either way, Chinedu turned and faced the enormous and enraged Xiddian warrior.
Chinedu froze. He coughed. Then, bravely, he brought up his sword. It would, Tau knew, make no difference.
DAASO HEADTAKER
Daaso, headtaker for tribe Taonga, feared no man and had feared no man since beating her father bloody. Daaso had been young, her father drunk, and her mother had been in her father’s way. Her father struck her mother and Daaso struck her father, several times. After that, there had been only one more fight between them to settle the order in the house. Daaso, not yet a woman, ruled and her father followed.
This was unusual, even among the Taonga, who prized strength, but Daaso was unusual. She was bigger than everyone she’d ever met, and stronger too. She’d lost wrestling matches, but never twice to the same fighter. She’d lost spear fights, but never to the same warrior, man or woman.
Daaso had risen to be a great warrior of the Taonga. Everyone knew her name, and those who didn’t had heard of her deeds. She had fought in the fire-demon desert against the invaders and their black-robed witches. She had faced their small warriors, garbed in gray, and killed them by the dozens. She had battled their leather-and-bronze-armored men as well. They were tougher, faster, and used their swords like they were born holding them. She’d killed her share of them just the same.
Daaso had more than two lifetimes’ worth of honor, a handsome husband, and birth-paired daughters, both of whom she could see becoming ferocious spearwomen one day. Daaso was blessed, and her blessings had multiplied when she was chosen at the Conclave to be bound to a shaman who had learned the invaders’ magics. The shaman and Daaso had trained, and Daaso, who had already lived a glorious life, knew what it was to be one of the gods when the magics worked through her. They made her stronger, bigger, and faster than any mortal had any right to be.