Siegestone: Book 1 of the Gemstones and Giants Trilogy

by E. S. Maya

  Hannah froze, and a grin came over her face, like all that betting had gone to her head and left her stone-silly. She fished a few silver coins out from her bag, counted the contents, and tied off the top. “Deal.”

  Raven removed her foot from the sack, and Matilda reached both arms to drag away the load. She took the little pouch from Hannah, too. “You count them coins, Matty,” Raven said. Sure enough, there were exactly twenty-five silver Anderan Sovereigns inside. A whole five years’ worth of freedom.

  “Biggest bet I’ve ever seen,” Matilda remarked, setting the small bag on top of the large one.

  The fifth-year girls scooted out of the way as Raven climbed the wall, seating herself beside Hannah. Together they watched the crowd, where the boys were beginning to chant. “Blon-die! Blon-die! Blon-die!”

  Raven looked up at Hannah and grinned, and found the head girl grinning back at her.

  Together, they turned their attention towards the sword ring.

  58

  Faith

  On some nights, when the cold spirit of winter reached its fingers through the cracks of her bedside window, and the air felt like ice in her lungs, Safi huddled beneath her blankets, a world of warmth from the cold, and prayed herself to sleep.

  The sword ring, too, was more than a plot of land—more than a boundary formed by rope and six wooden pegs. Here was a world within Camp Cronus, a place with its own rules and its own dangers. A world of victory and defeat. Of pain, and certainly no place for a thirteen-year-old girl.

  Safi felt gooseflesh prickle her neck. How had she dared to brave the sword ring alone? Now there was no one, not Wulf, nor Raven, nor any of her friends, not even a layer of blankets, to keep the danger of Noth away.

  “Safiyas,” said a voice in her ear, stirring her from her thoughts.

  Goggles stood toes to the boundary rope, one arm reaching, penetrating the barrier from one world to the next. Holding Titansbane towards her.

  Closing her fingers around its hilt, Safi smiled. Here was the accumulated effort of everyone who had ever believed in her, of their every action and thought, not to mention her own hard work.

  She set the blade on her shoulder and approached the center of the sword ring. Being her first time inside, it was difficult to tell how much larger the boundary rope had become. Large enough to step outside the strike of a sword, she reckoned. Jabbar had done well.

  Noth hooked his thumbs in his belt and walked to the edge of the sword ring. One of the fifth-year boys handed him a wooden sword. Perhaps it was the heat, or perhaps the tension between them, but the air itself seemed to throb and waver. The Serk was reduced to the blue of his work shirt, the brown of his trousers. That head of dark cropped hair, and those calculating yellow eyes…

  When she came to it, Noth was standing a few feet away, and Spanky was explaining the rules. “…three points to a win. Sword touches your opponent and that’s a point. Your body touches the ground outside the rope, and that’s a point, too. Slashes only, no thrusts. Got it?”

  The yellow eyes nodded. Safi nodded too, scratching the tingling blonde hairs of her sword arm. There came the ringing of coins from the crowd. Money being wagered, and likely not in her favor. She remembered Raven and her hoard, then looked at Stiv, Jabbar, and Goggles, who were handing plump coin purses to a nearby bet collector. The sight made her cringe.

  Spanky’s shrill voice snapped Safi out of her reverie. “Begin!”

  Grinning, Noth raised his sword into a high guard. Safi fell into her fighting stance, sword and body ready. She watched the fifth-year’s chest, so as not to be distracted by his eyes.

  “Come, Abed!” goaded Noth, speaking more to the crowd than Safi. “Come teach me the lesson I deserve.”

  She stepped backwards, keeping well beyond Noth’s striking range. His heels dragged through the dust as he followed, and that made her hopeful. The boy was slower than a Titan compared to Raven’s dexterous footwork.

  “I wonder how loud Wulf screamed,” the recruit foreman mused, “during his unfortunate mining accident.”

  The thought made Safi’s stomach lurch. Noth was upon her at once, wooden sword springing. She skittered backwards and extended her weapon. The points of their swords rattled lightly.

  Chuckling, Noth stepped backwards and fell into a high guard.

  A Feint, she realized, as she brushed the blonde hair from her eyes. The fifth-year was testing her.

  “Not as loud as you’re about to,” Safi shot back, much to the Crowd’s approval.

  Noth lowered the tip of his sword and laughed, and Safi flinched at the sight. She managed to stay her sword arm, however. After countless spars with Raven, the girl knew bait when she saw it.

  Noth’s expression was all amusement. “Clever Abed. You are, indeed, the insect that never ceases to crawl. They say we lost the Third war, but we slaughtered your kind by the thousands! Yet here you are.”

  Safi had long decided the conflict between Serk and Abed was no business of hers. Still, she could feel the anger building inside her, pushing at the backs of her eyes and making her blood run hot. Her words were against her teeth the moment she opened her mouth. “And how did your father fare against the Abed, I wonder?”

  Recalling the fate of her father Yusef, Safi regretted the insult at once.

  Noth’s expression stiffened, though a dark and unnatural smile remained crescent upon his face. “Saerkonia!” he roared. Two dust-stomping footsteps closed the distance between them. A chill shot down Safi’s back as the boy held aloft his sword, barrel chest straining his work shirt. She begged her trembling legs to move, but all the fear in the world was inside her. Noth brought his sword through a swift descent, aiming to split her head like a log of firewood…

  …and whooshed past her shoulder.

  It took Safi a moment to realize Noth hadn’t intentionally missed. Her reflexes had kicked in, sending her twirling out of the way. Recognizing the opportunity, she lunged at the fifth-year’s exposed left side. Faster than the flick of a finger, she swung Titansbane across his ribcage.

  “Point!” shouted Spanky. From the way he said it, it sounded more like a question.

  Safi could hardly believe it either. Noth was slower than stone compared to Raven! The crowd cheered, and not in the recruit foreman’s favor. She thrust her sword at the sky and cheered with them.

  She did not notice Noth, who was unbuttoning his work shirt, and was no longer smiling.

  Of all the girls perched upon the long, half-broken brick wall, Raven was first to speak, “She got him!”

  To her surprise and satisfaction, over a dozen staring girls threw up their hands and cheered. Hannah and her fifth-years, however, moved not an inch, and uttered not a word.

  Raven stretched her twitching fingers. Two more points and her stay in Camp Cronus would become five years shorter. How foolish she was, to have ever doubted her friend! Not to mention her own meticulous planning. It was a marvelous scheme, one that even Crow would have begrudgingly respected.

  For Noth was indeed strong, but what good was strength? It wasn’t the strength of an arm, nor the edge of a sword, that allowed the Anderanites to command the Northern Kingdoms, but the swift flight of gryphons and the cunning use of knowledge. Knowing who to fight, and when, and how. All of Crow’s brain-grating lectures—of thievery, of violence, and survival—was proving true before her very eyes.

  Faced with Blondie’s skill and speed, Noth didn’t have a chance.

  After all, Raven had trained the girl herself. Though she had to admit, there had always been part of her that couldn’t quite believe Safi could overcome the absurd odds of victory.

  Raven turned her grinning face to the fifth-year girl seated beside her. Like the dealer of a Serren gambler’s stand, now was the time to reveal her cards, to indulge in the pleasures of underhanded behavior, as her sister so often would. “You’ve made a fool’s bet after all. Thought I’d throw Safi in a fight with Noth on a whim? We’ve been trainin
g every day, in the barracks, right under your nose.”

  Calmly, Hannah turned in her seat to face her. Raven was surprised to find not fear, nor shock, but confidence in her deep brown eyes.

  The head girl said, “Don’t you think you’re speaking too soon?”

  Another wave of cheers came from the crowd. This time, the girls along the wall squealed with delight. Raven’s left cheek flinched, for the second round was yet to begin. Before she could look, Hannah grabbed her by the jaw and squeezed it to the point of pain. She leaned close to Raven’s face and whispered, “I’ve known about your little plan all this time. In fact, I allowed it to continue.”

  “You’re lying,” said Raven through squished lips, over the rising cries of the Fivers’ Camp girls.

  Hannah wrenched Raven’s face towards the sword ring. “Take a closer look at who your Southerling friend is facing!”

  Raven gasped. Noth had stripped off his shirt, revealing a body carved from stone. A body only the Titan mines could create. A stomach that flexed with each steady breath. Shoulders as round as pauldrons. A chestful of muscles that strained against his skin. Arms that could move the world.

  But his body wasn’t important. What mattered how he was standing—right foot forward, wooden sword held at a guarded angle.

  Raven squeezed her hands closed on her lap. The realization struck her like a stone to the head. Noth wasn’t clumsy at all. She had simply never seen him try.

  “In the four and a half years I’ve known him,” Hannah said, letting go of Raven’s face, “Noth’s never lost a fight. He was beating on fifth-years his first month in camp.” Flicking back her hair, she slung an arm over Raven’s shoulders and laughed. “You and your bunkmate are finished.”

  For once, the Anderan was out of words. She glanced at her treasure of coins resting beside Matilda’s feet, and the smaller purse on top of it. She felt her eyes begin to water.

  A religious girl would have prayed then. Instead, Raven folded her hands and lowered her head, and placed her faith in Safiyas.

  Down in the sword ring, Spanky called for the second round to begin.

  59

  Dinner for Wolves

  Noth tested the wound at his side, wincing. “That was an impressive attack, Southerling. I underestimated you. To think that a first-year, and a girl at that, was able to reach me.” He offered her the tiniest smile in the world. “I won’t call it luck. Must’ve been that brown Southerling blood.”

  “It was skill,” Safi retorted. “And your own foolishness for not taking me seriously.”

  “I’m taking you seriously now,” Noth said. He began inching towards her, sword held at the ready. “Why don’t you try again?”

  Safi stepped backwards, taking care to avoid getting trapped against the boundary rope. With his work shirt off, it was difficult to focus on the Noth’s center of mass. His torso was a map of muscle, the face of a beautifully shaped monster. Had she a real sword in place of this wooden one, she wasn’t certain she’d be able to cut through him.

  Worse than that, he had settled into a proper fighting stance. His guard looked flawless.

  Safi tucked her elbow against her ribs, fighting the urge to send Titansbane flying forward. Reckless strength might win the occasional spar with Raven, but Noth was multitudes stronger. If she had any chance of beating him, it would be through skill and speed. By staying calm, and focused.

  She felt her heels bump into the boundary rope.

  Noth descended upon her with a flurry of whistling blows, kicking up clouds of dust behind him. Keeping her breath, she blocked once, twice, then, fearing damage to her lighter, more delicate sword, ducked to the side and slipped away.

  Noth turned after her, sword arm leaping.

  Safi narrowed her eyebrows, spotting a gap in the Serk’s defense. She planted her feet and shifted her weight, launching herself at Noth’s exposed left side. The second stroke of her sword was as smooth and precise as her first. She ducked beneath Noth’s sword, felt it slipping through her hair, and followed through with her swing, aiming for the fifth-year’s midsection.

  Safi cut air—and gasped. The momentum of her attack sent her spinning in place. She heard the fifth-years’ heavy, dust-crunching footsteps behind her, then the whistling tip of his sword.

  Throwing up her guard, Safi spun to face him.

  —and heard herself scream as her arm burst with pain. Dropping to her knees, she let go of her sword and clutched her left bicep. Her skin burned exquisitely where her glove met wounded flesh.

  Standing near the sword ring, Spanky jumped in surprise and said, “Point to the recruit foreman!”

  To Safi’s dismay, the boys of the crowd cheered with him.

  Now their game was tied.

  “Safi!” cried a familiar voice behind her. It was Stiv. His forehead looked redder than ripe tomatoes, and his cheeks were dripping with tears. Meeting Safi’s eyes, he attempted to enter the sword ring, but Jabbar was upon him at once, clinging to his arms and neck. Holding the boy of Berrider back. “Let me go!”

  “If you step inside, she forfeits the match!” Jabbar said. With Goggles’ help, he wrestled Stiv kicking and screaming to the ground.

  Safi gritted her teeth. She sure wished Stiv would be silent. Rising to one knee, she prodded her arm with her fingers. There was a bright red slit where her skin had come apart. Titans, how strong was Noth, to turn a wooden sword into a real one?

  “Can you continue?” asked Spanky. Then, raising his voice for the crowd, “or is it… all over?!”

  Safi pinched her shirtsleeve and rolled it down to her wrist. The torn blue fabric was spotted red with blood. She slipped her fingers through the hole and pulled. The entire sleeve ripped right off. Sorry, Becca. Working fast, she twisted the sleeve into a rope, spun it around her arm, and knotted it with teeth and fist.

  Titansbane in hand, Safi stood on two uneasy feet. She shot Stiv a glance, and it seemed enough to calm him. Then She nodded towards Spanky and raised her sword towards Noth. “I can continue.”

  Safi now understood: Noth was a boy of the Titan mines. He would not tire. He would not relent. The moment Spanky cleared his throat, she readied her sword and charged.

  “Begin!”

  Safi bared her teeth as she unleashed a string of attacks. Unlike the Noth she had watched from afar, this one did not smile. His lips remained a straight line, and his yellow eyes followed her every move as Titansbane clattered off his guard.

  She paused for a single breath. If Noth would offer no openings, she would just have to make one.

  She launched a dramatic blow towards his head. Then, as he raised his sword to defend, she reversed her attack. An upward arc, aimed straight for the boy’s crotch.

  Grinning, Noth lowered his guard and swatted her sword away.

  She snapped her weapon back into the ready position, scabbed palm throbbing with pain. This time she lunged towards his left, non-dominant side and threw a wide swing, intended to hook around his sword and strike the back of his shoulder. A move Raven had used to punish her dozens of times over.

  Laughing now, Noth eased to the side and fell into a defensive stance, catching her sword with ease.

  Safi stepped backwards to gather her wits. She watched her opponent carefully, his muscles sweaty and gleaming, and became acutely aware of her work shirt, and the way the damp fabric clung to her hot skin

  She paused to wipe the sweat from her eyes. Through the pounding of her heart, heard the whistling of Noth’s sword flying towards her. She took to her toes and dashed along the perimeter of the sword ring. Running away from the fifth-year.

  The crowd jeered at Safi’s flight. Despite the sword ring’s expanded size, there was so little room to maneuver. She paused to catch her breath, watching Noth’s yellow eyes drifting closer. Such anger in those eyes, not only for Safi, but her entire race. Anger for a long, bloody history that she had nothing to do with. Anger for what young Serks imagined the Abed to be.

/>   Noth charged in pursuit, big arms swinging. His sword seemed to come from several directions at once. Safi swung Titansbane the left, to the right, repelling each of his blows. She clenched her jaw, breathing through a grimace, as months of training carried her sword where her conscious mind could not.

  The Serk maintained his assault. He battered Safi around the sword ring, working her towards the boundary rope. She felt her heel bump into one of the wooden pegs. Watched as the recruit foreman raised his sword for a vertical blow.

  Heavy with exhaustion, Safi threw up her guard.

  At the same moment, Noth’s left hand darted forward, stilling her sword arm at the wrist.

  Panicking, Safi raised her wounded left arm and grabbed at fifth-year’s fingers. She attempted to break his grip, but the boy’s strength was impossible. He bent her wrist at an awkward angle. She screamed from the pain.

  Slowly, her sword moved out of the way, leaving her utterly defenseless.

  Safi raised her head to meet Noth’s bright yellow eyes. It was hard to believe this was real, that she’d spent months in Camp Cronus, kingdoms away from home, toiling away in the Titan mines. That she wasn’t still in Ashcroft, in her bedroom, cold and hungry and asleep.

  Smiling, Noth brought his sword down hard, a diagonal slash across Safi’s chest.

  “Point, Noth! Score, two—one!”

  The roars of the crowd rushed through her. She dropped to her knees, then her side, curling up into a ball and sobbing uncontrollably. Then she rolled onto her back and stomped her feet from the pain. Her collarbone felt loose, and the line of Noth’s attack ran burning down her chest and stomach.

  Hammering the ground with her fists, Safi looked past the staring faces to Cronus’ skyward toes, those great stone feet which had once walked the wounds of the world. She closed her eyes in prayer, begging the Siege Titan to let this pain pass. To allow her to fight just a little bit longer.