Again Slave nodded.
‘Why?’
‘Keshik released this thing onto the world. Now we have to go and deal with it.’
‘Can’t someone else do it? I mean, there are lots of Tulugma swordsmen.’
Slave regarded her with curiosity. How much did she understand? He decided to ignore her question and concentrate on trying to convince Adrast to do what he had to. He pushed back his chair and rose to his feet.
‘I’ll go and see what is going on. Make sure you are ready to leave at short notice.’ Slave left the room and walked out into the cool morning air.
Across the training arena, the Tulugma were still gathered in a tight knot, heads down, chanting quietly. Slave looked around and saw that Adrast was standing alone by the door to his room. His head was also bowed, but he didn’t appear to be chanting. Slave made his way to him.
‘They don’t like you,’ the Elbar said.
Slave shrugged. He knew that, and he did not blame them. He tried not to think about his having killed fifteen of their number. There was nothing they could call him or think of him that he would not agree with, or had not already thought himself. But what troubled him the most was that he had sought the black rage, he had needed it to defeat the shadow hunter — without it, at the very least, he and the Elbar would be dead now. It was altogether possible that the monster could have wiped out the entire Kuriltai.
‘How can you get us to Myrrhini?’ Slave asked.
‘Not one for idle conversation, are you?’
Slave stared.
‘No, you’re not,’ Adrast went on. He sighed theatrically. ‘When they are finished —’ he waved airily at the chanting Tulugma ‘— I will prepare.’
The ritual to honour the Tulugma killed by Slave lasted for a while longer. Slave did not approach close enough to glean any details so he learned nothing new about the Tulugma. When it finished, Keshik left the group and walked over to him.
‘Tell me about what happened last night,’ he said.
‘I climbed up that rope —’ Slave indicated the rope hanging down past the massive carving of Tulugma ‘— and went into that room there. Inside was a projection of some sort, a thing of smoke and eyes, in the shape of the Revenant. It attacked me, but this —’ he held up his Claw ‘— was too strong for it. I don’t know what that thing was, but it knew the Revenant. And it knew me. Then I went up to the top, to the sentry post. There was a man there posing as a sentry. I think it was he who summoned the shadow hunter.’
‘You didn’t kill him?’
‘No. I didn’t know what he was at the time.’
‘He’s dead now, at least.’
‘When I climbed down, I went to see the Elbar, and the shadow hunter was waiting for me. We fought, and you know the rest better than I do.’
‘Was it waiting for you? Or was it after Adrast?’
Slave was uncertain. At first he had believed the conjured beast was there for Adrast, but to call such a ferocious magical thing for the Elbar seemed rather excessive. Or had the plan been to simply unleash it on the sleeping Kuriltai? On reflection, this seemed most likely.
‘Both,’ Slave said.
Keshik scowled. ‘Both,’ he repeated.
‘Probably.’
‘Probably? Is that the best you can do? I thought you were supposed to be some sort of tactical expert.’
Slave gave a slight smile. Sometimes, Keshik almost had a sense of humour. He would deny it of course, but he could be funny at times.
‘The real question is who sent him and why?’ Slave went on.
‘Kielevinenrohkimainen,’ Keshik said.
‘How?’
Keshik’s scowl deepened. ‘What do you mean?’
‘We don’t know much about Kielevinenrohkimainen. We don’t know what it wants, how it plans to achieve it, or how it communicates with its army — assuming it has one. With the Revenant, we knew what it was doing and where it was going and how. But with this thing, we don’t know enough yet to formulate any strategy. Myrrhini, I think, knows more. That’s why we need to get to her as fast as we can.’ As the words left his lips he realised the new, near compulsion had come from within himself. As soon as he had found out Myrrhini was alive, he’d known he had to get to her. As a Mertian, she had the best opportunity of anyone alive to know what this Kielevinenrohkimainen was doing. Slave said nothing more, allowing Keshik to reason his way through it. When Keshik shook his head as if he didn’t understand any of what Slave was talking about, he went on: ‘When are we leaving?’
‘First thing in the morning,’ Adrast said.
Slave turned quickly to see the Elbar walking towards him. A shot of pain lanced through him from his cracked rib. He pressed his hand to his side. How had he missed the sound of the Elbar approaching? That was a couple of things he had missed recently. What was happening? Was he becoming lazy? Was he being distracted by the pain?
‘Tomorrow?’ Keshik said. ‘Why not today?’
‘These things take time to organise,’ Adrast said.
Slave muttered a curse he had heard Maida use as he walked away holding his injured rib. If he had to waste a whole day before leaving, he might as well get the rib strapped. He walked across the training arena as quickly as the pain in his side would permit to the room he had discovered earlier where injuries were treated. He made it less than halfway before he was confronted by six Tulugma warriors.
They blocked his way with the ease of seasoned fighters used to working together. It was a smooth, practised action that Slave saw happening, but with the increasing pain from his rib, one that he could not easily avoid without the considerable additional discomfort of running. He slowed to a walk then to a complete halt as the angry Tulugma surrounded him.
‘Don’t do this,’ Slave warned. ‘You know what I am like when I am threatened.’
‘We do,’ the lead Tulugma said. ‘We honoured those of our number who saw what you can do first-hand.’ He was big, like most axemen, and hefted an axe that looked almost as big as he was himself. Slave doubted that even with his obvious strength he could wield it effectively.
‘Then you know this is ill-advised.’
‘Don’t threaten me,’ the axeman said.
Slave lowered his eyes in apparent defeat, but in reality he was watching the man’s feet. A big man, especially one using such a huge weapon, had to have good footwork, and this would give his first move away.
It did.
Slave saw the initial shift in the lead foot, followed by the play of muscles in the ankle that had to precede a swing. He dived forward into the man’s knees. The impact with Slave’s shoulder sent a surge of hot agony through both men. The axeman went down with a shriek as both knees were driven backward, one dislocating, the other tearing apart completely. Slave bit off his own cry as the shock jarred through to his rib. He rolled past the downed man and forced himself to his feet. The pain was as intense as he could remember. It was starting to flood his senses, sending waves of red across his eyes. Behind the red was the black he had learned to both fear and welcome on occasion.
Now he feared it.
If he were to lose control here, these six would die, and who knew how many others would fall to his rage if they came to their aid? Slave made himself drop to his knees as the five Tulugma came at him. His heart pounded painfully in his chest and his breathing came in gasps as he wrestled with his building anger. He threw his Claw as far away as he could manage and lowered his hands to the sand.
The black rage was instants away when the first blow caught him on the side of his head, just above the ear. His instincts were enough to allow him to sway with the impact, so that it did not open his head up entirely, but it was enough to send blood spraying and leave him sprawling unconscious on the sand.
By the time Keshik arrived, Slave was bleeding from several wounds inflicted on his motionless body. Keshik grabbed at the attacking Tulugma warriors and dragged them away. He bellowed in fury, lashing out with f
ists and feet until they all fell back, blood dripping from weapons, and spattered on faces and clothes. Keshik stood over the motionless figure of Slave and drew his own swords.
‘I warned you,’ he roared. ‘I said anyone who draws a blade on him would face me.’ He jabbed a blade at the closest. ‘You! Would you face me?’ The man retreated, sheathing his sword. Keshik spat and turned quickly on the next. ‘You! Will you be a coward too?’
The man lifted his chin defiantly and did not step away. Keshik moved faster than anyone there had ever seen a man move, driving a savage thrust straight at the man’s face. He fell back in shock, completely unprepared for the move. Keshik’s blade drove into the man’s face, glancing off the cheekbone before stopping with the tip just below the skin. In the sudden, stunned silence, the only sound they could hear was Slave’s breathing. Keshik whipped his blade out, leaving a deep gash across the man’s face. He found his own breath coming in harsh gasps as he fought to regain control.
‘You attacked an unarmed, kneeling man,’ he hissed. ‘He knelt before you and placed his weapon on the ground and you attacked him. None of you are worthy to bear the name of Tulugma.’
‘And neither are you, Kabutat Keshik.’
Keshik slowly turned to face the woman who had spoken. She held his stare confidently, but she had tucked her own Warrior’s Claw away, and stood unarmed, her hands open at her sides.
‘You killed fellow Tulugma and have been cast out of the Kuriltai. You are the one with no rights here.’
Keshik stared at her, realising that she was no woman. She was barely more than a child, but her gaze was steady and her stance was trained. Her pale eyes and light hair were in stark contrast to her dark skin.
‘Who are you?’ Keshik asked. His heart still pounded in his chest, but he felt oddly calm.
‘Li,’ she said.
‘And who are you to speak to me like this?’
‘I am the daughter of the Elbar and Bai.’
Keshik felt his grip on his blades loosen and his shoulders sag. He stared at the girl who stared defiantly back. Bai’s daughter had inherited her colouring, her beauty and her fire. Was there anything of Adrast in her? Li lowered her eyes finally in the face of Keshik’s hard glare.
‘You.’ Keshik indicated a man standing to his left. ‘Go and get help to see to Slave’s wounds.’ The man hesitated, but then moved. He took six or seven steps before coming to a sudden halt as Haron in wyvern form landed in front of him. She left her wings spread as she lowered her beaked face to within a handspan of the Tulugma’s face. Her screech was piercing, causing the Tulugma to take a step back. Like a shadow, Tatya flowed silently over the ground to stand beside Haron. The huge black spurre snarled as she revealed long fangs that dripped saliva onto the sandy ground.
‘Tatya, Haron,’ Keshik said in a cautionary tone. ‘Don’t eat him.’
The Tulugma gave a nervous look over his shoulder at Keshik before shifting his gaze to the two predators. His look seemed to ask Keshik if he were being serious.
‘Stand still, man,’ Keshik said. ‘They will eat you if you provoke them.’
‘No, they won’t,’ one of the remaining Tulugma surrounding Slave said. When Keshik shot him a hard look, the man shimmered and shifted into a xath lizard. The lizard was at least ten paces long. He held the shape for a brief moment before shifting back again. ‘They won’t eat you, Hasse.’
‘We might kill him though, Dokiakis,’ Tatya said.
‘Don’t threaten my friends, Tatya,’ Dokiakis snapped.
‘Threaten? You just nearly killed an unarmed Scaren Beq.’
Dokiakis stared first at Tatya, then at the bloodied Slave.
‘Beq?’ he whispered. ‘Scaren Beq?’
‘Who did you think it was?’ Haron asked.
The shapeshifter dropped to his knees at Slave’s side. ‘My Beq,’ he whispered. ‘What have I done?’
Tatya padded forward to nudge the Tulugma, Hasse, in the chest with her muzzle. ‘Keshik told you to do something,’ she rumbled. Hasse took a backward step before running away to get help for Slave. Haron flared her wings as Hasse ran past, as if to urge him on to further effort.
Keshik knelt beside Slave. The wounds were serious and possibly life-threatening. He would need a long time to recover his strength, but he could. Keshik rested his hand on Slave’s back, feeling the steady breathing, the powerful beating of his heart. It would take a lot to kill this man.
‘Just as well,’ Keshik whispered.
‘Keshik?’ Dokiakis asked. ‘What did you say?’
‘It is as well for you that this man is still alive.’
‘I agree,’ the shapeshifter said.
‘Dokiakis? That’s an Apros name, isn’t it?’
‘It is.’
‘You are a long way from home.’
‘Apros was only my birthplace, never my home.’
‘Where is home?’
Dokiakis looked up and around at the walls of the Kuriltai that loomed over them. He shrugged. ‘This is as close to a home as one of the vlekkenvorm is likely to find.’
The sound of running feet made them both look up. The healers were hurrying towards them, their white leather jerkins looking oddly incongruous with the weapons strapped to their sides and their close-fitting metal helmets. They skidded to a halt beside Slave and bent to their tasks. Keshik had never seen them move as fast, nor attend to a non-Tulugma with such diligence. He guessed the presence of the spurre and wyvern might have encouraged their efforts. Keshik rose to his feet and stepped away from the healers, as did Dokiakis.
‘We need to discuss your lack of discipline,’ Keshik said, looking around at the Tulugma and including Li in his words. The responses he received ranged from fear to hostile defiance. Both extremes were fine by Keshik, he could handle them.
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Li snapped. Hers was the hostile defiance.
‘You were given instructions not to attack this man, and you not only did so, you did so when he was unarmed and on his knees.’
‘The only instructions we were given were from you, an outcast kabutat,’ Li spat. The others murmured in agreement. Li shot them a quick look of what Keshik saw was gratitude.
If she needs reassurance, she is not all that confident, Keshik reasoned. It’s mostly bluster.
Maybe she did inherit something from her father after all.
Keshik placed his hand on the hilt of one of his swords and took a step towards her. He was pleased to see her hesitate and shift back slightly.
‘And my instructions contradicted your training how, exactly?’ he asked.
‘What?’
‘Which part of the teachings of Tulugma directs you to attack an unarmed visitor to the Kuriltai?’ Keshik said, stepping closer. He was within her attack range now. Her reaction suggested she knew her range, which impressed Keshik. She was preparing her counterattack should he draw his weapon first. Keep her unbalanced. ‘Tell me,’ Keshik demanded. ‘Which of the master’s teachings directed you to attack an unarmed man on his knees?’ He took another step forward, close enough for hand-to-hand. Li was fast, lithe, and had the stance of the close fighter.
Li stared hard into Keshik’s eyes and swallowed. She gathered her courage and stepped forward. They were almost the same height, with Li only slightly taller. Keshik sized up the distance he would need for a headbutt to her nose. It seemed she was doing the same as they both stopped advancing at the same moment. Keshik was impressed.
‘Your nose is too fine to be broken,’ Keshik told her in a voice that would not travel beyond her. ‘Don’t do anything stupid here.’
Li’s face went suddenly red with a fury that subsided quickly into confusion. She tilted her head to the side slightly before a tiny smile curved her lips upward.
‘You have no intention of killing me, do you?’ she said just as quietly.
‘None whatsoever.’
‘So what is this all about?’
‘Honour,
discipline, the traditions of the Tulugma.’
‘I can support all that. How do we end this?’
‘You step back and acknowledge your error.’
‘Not going to happen.’ Li drove her head forward in a savage headbutt. It was a bar brawler’s move, enhanced by a lifetime’s training — albeit a short one — in timing and technique and muscles, honed to a level unimaginable to the average bar brawler. Against a brawler, it would have been devastating. Against Keshik, it was wasted effort.
He saw it coming and swayed back out of the way. With nothing to absorb the blow, Li lost balance and fell forward. Keshik twisted away from her overbalanced stagger, allowing her to keep moving forward. He stuck out a leg and tripped her. She fell heavily on her face, only to feel Keshik’s knee drive hard into the small of her back as the cold steel of his sword came to rest across her neck.
‘Discipline, honour and skill, all lacking,’ he said loudly. ‘No wonder you could not even kill an unarmed man.’ He stood up and stepped away from her. ‘Want to try again?’ he taunted.
With a snarl, Li sprang up to her feet and slashed at Keshik with her Claw. It sliced the air a hair’s breadth from his face. He pulled his head back to avoid it. As he did, he jabbed his hand upward with two fingers extended, hard as iron, to slam into her underarm. She gasped in pain and her arm went limp, her Claw slipping from suddenly useless fingers. Keshik followed the jab with a clenched fist to the side of her head. Her pale eyes rolled up and she dropped senseless to the ground.
‘Discipline, skill and honour,’ he repeated as he looked down at her prone figure. He looked up at the others. ‘Let’s get something understood. The Ogedei is not here. In ancient times, the Ogedei was a position decided on skill alone. Until someone challenges me, I claim the title of Ogedei.’ He stared at the warriors individually until each broke eye contact. ‘Right, go and prepare to leave. We are all travelling first thing tomorrow. Take only what you can carry at a run.’ For a heartbeat, the gathered Tulugma warriors stood motionless, then as one they broke into a run. Keshik watched them go with a grim smile.
‘Now the Elbar,’ he muttered.
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