by Evan Winter
Pulling in air, ash, and the stench of blood, Tau reeled. He was on his knees, his mind on fire as fear unlike anything he’d ever known thundered through him. He felt warm wetness soak his trews and soiled himself. He didn’t care, couldn’t care. It was enough not to collapse into the battle-churned muck.
The men around him were similarly affected, and from the corner of his eye, Tau saw that many of the hedeni were also down.
“Tau?” It was his father.
“Da?” Tau said.
“Be at ease. It’ll pass. It’ll pass.”
Tau’s head pounded, but he looked to the Gifted anyway. Amara was still pushing out the wave of twisted energy. His father had pulled him out of the way and, Tau realized, he’d done it just in time. Amara’s wave of enervation had forced Tau’s soul into the underworld, where one of its demons had almost gotten him.
His head was a muddle, but Tau thought he understood. The Gifted was trying to disable enough of the hedeni to allow the Ingonyama to flee. Her efforts weren’t enough. She’d missed too many with her powers, and the Ingonyama, bleeding from a hundred cuts, found two attackers taking the place of each one he killed.
“I can’t hit more of them,” Amara said. “I can’t!”
“He has to drop the enraging,” the other Gifted said, “or Nsia dies.”
The Gifted needn’t have worried. The Ingonyama bellowed, killed another man, and stepped back, and then there were two flashes of light. The first flared around his body, and when it vanished, so did the effects of the enraging. The man shrank into himself, diminishing in height, bulk, and strength.
The second flash of light came from farther up the flats, in the half-closed doorway of one of the abandoned homes. As if waiting for this, the horn blower fired off two sharp blasts and a group of hedeni made for the house.
The ones who remained finished off the Ingonyama. He was stabbed by spear and hatchet. They opened his belly, then cut his head from his shoulders and held it aloft.
Amara had tears in her eyes and the Gifted woman beside her cursed, raising her hands to the sky. Her robes fell back from her wrists and Tau heard the dragon roar.
It circled, the Gifted twitched her fingers, and, blowing fire, the dragon dove for the hedeni who were running for the home. The slower among them died in the inferno as the beast careened past, but the rest made it, went inside the home, and came out with what they sought. The hedeni had captured a Gifted.
“Nsia!” the Gifted communing with the dragon shouted.
Nsia, being dragged from the building, pulled something from her robes that glinted. It was a knife. There were too many for her to fight off, but it still surprised Tau when she didn’t try.
Instead, she reversed her hold on the blade and made to plunge it into her chest, but one of her attackers was too quick. He slammed a spear into her arm and the knife fell from her deadened fingers. She tried to fight then, mouth open to scream, but one of the hedeni struck her across the temple, she went limp, and they carried her off.
They rushed her toward the warlord with the burned face, and Tau checked the skies. The dragon was turning for another pass but wouldn’t make it in time. The horn blower, standing beside the warlord, lifted his instrument and blew a final note, and the hedeni retreated, ending the raid on Daba more suddenly than it had begun.
A few of the Chosen sent up a cheer. Most of the townspeople were safe, the Ihagu had held until the real military arrived, and, once again, the Chosen had beaten back their enemy. The cheer was almost loud enough to drown out the sounds of choking.
It was one of the Gifted. Not the one who had skimmed Tau with her enervating blast and not the one directing the dragon. This Gifted had stood quiet and still, surrounded by soldiers, and far from combat. She was convulsing and coughing up blood, her skin bubbling and bursting. It looked like she was being torn to pieces from the inside out. It looked like what had happened to the hedena Jabari had captured and questioned.
A soldier took hold of her and, with tenderness, helped her to the ground. The other soldiers tightened the circle around her, blocking Tau’s view. He could still hear, though. He could hear her dying, and he started toward them, thinking to help, when a hand fell on his shoulder.
“No,” his father said. “That’s Gifted business.”
“She’s dying.”
The choking Gifted had gone quiet.
“Come,” his father said. “We won.”
CHAPTER TWO
PLANS
Tau saw the hedena’s face, reliving the moment he killed her. In his dreams, she did not die silent. She screamed, deafening him, crushing him with her hate. He woke near midday, unsure he’d slept at all.
“You’ll feel raw,” his father said, stoking their hut’s cook fire. “During a fight your blood’s up and your body does everything it can to keep going. When the danger passes, it shuts down.” He offered Tau the vegetables he’d boiled. Tau waved them off.
“Eat,” Aren said. “You’ll be training today.”
Tau didn’t feel like training and thought that if he never touched a sword again it would signal a life lived well.
Aren must have seen something in his face, because he looked away from Tau and stared into the pot’s murk. “I wish I could give you more,” he said. “I wish…” His voice broke, and he rubbed the back of his hand against his mouth, clearing grime that wasn’t there. “Tau… you need to know I’m going to push you. You test for the Ihashe soon, and that’s what I thought I was preparing you for, a test. I’d forgotten how bad things can get. I’d forgotten how little of this has to do with sword forms, exercises, or techniques.”
Aren reached out, coming close to putting a hand on Tau’s shoulder. He let it fall short, making a fist.
“I’m teaching you how to kill,” he said. “And I need to teach you how to be good enough at it to survive.”
Tau nodded. It was what his father wanted.
“It’ll be twice the training sessions from now until the testing. We’ll add mornings to our normal afternoons. I have my duties, so your mornings will be with Nkiru and some of the other men, the ones with a good head for sword work.” Aren stood, reminded Tau to eat, and left.
Tau didn’t eat. He was supposed to meet Jabari and went to buckle on his sword belt and sword. Aren had made him clean his gear before letting him sleep, but Tau could still see it on the bronze. He could still see all the places the blood had been.
When he arrived for his afternoon training, Jabari was already in the fighting circle. “Tau!” he said.
“Well met, nkosi.”
“I feel like a mountain fell on me. Could hardly get out of bed. I’ve pain in places I didn’t know were there.” The Petty Noble smiled. “I nearly didn’t have to worry about any of that, though. I had to face my mother this morning. I thought she’d kill me.”
“Guess not?” Tau said, earning a laugh.
“She’d heard Aren’s report before seeing me. She was angry, very angry, but proud. You should have seen Lekan! He had to stand next to Mother, listening to her praise me. He looked like he’d be sick.” Jabari’s eyes glittered. “I could get used to this hero thing. Jabari Onai and Tau Tafari, the Chosen’s most feared warriors!”
“From your lips to the Goddess’s ears,” Tau told him as he lifted his practice sword and stepped into the fighting circle.
Jabari smiled. “May we always be pleasing in her eyes,” he intoned. “At you!” he said, attacking.
No one came to instruct them. Aren and his men would have a busy few days as they and the rest of the fief recovered from the raid. Aren always said the toughest part of a battle was afterward.
Part of his duty as inkokeli was to travel to the homes of the men who’d gone to the Goddess. Tau didn’t want to think about him visiting Tendaji’s family. He couldn’t imagine having to tell Tendaji’s wife she’d never see her husband again.
“What whirls in that head?” Jabari asked.
They were
sitting and sweating on the edge of the fighting circle. Jabari had gotten the better of Tau. That was normal. The ease with which he had done it was not.
“I can’t get past last night,” Tau said.
“Of course not.”
“Did you sleep?” Tau asked.
“Barely,” Jabari said. “The rush hadn’t left me. I actually considered waking Lekan to talk to him about the battle. Can you believe that? Lekan!”
Tau slumped. “Not sure he would have appreciated it.”
Jabari laughed again. “As you say! Well, I’m not sure I could swing a blade of grass. I’m for the keep. Father suggested to Mother that Lekan and I should help the rebuilding effort at Daba. She agreed and I need to figure out when works best.”
“I’d like to help, if you don’t mind,” Tau said.
“Kind of you. We’ll do it together.” Jabari stood. “I’ll let you know when we make the first trip over.”
“Do you think… Will they come back?”
“Don’t know. They don’t usually attack the same place, but they don’t usually raid with that large a force either. Not a good start to the new queen’s reign. It’s also…” Jabari’s hesitation was unusual. He was always certain. “When Aren reported to my mother, he told her they’d identified five hedeni tribes among the dead, but the tribes don’t raid together. They join forces in the Wrist out of necessity. It’s the front line of the war. In raids, though, the tribes go it alone.” Jabari shook his head. “I’ll never understand the savages. They’re separate races. They feud with each other. But, they also cooperate and… mix.” Jabari’s distaste dripped off the last word.
The Chosen had been surprised when they’d discovered the hedeni were several races of man, each with unique gifts. They’d been shocked to learn that the races mixed, polluting their bloodlines, risking those gifts. Some in the Sah priesthood preached that it was this profane behavior that caused the Goddess to curse them.
“They’re allying for raids now?” Tau asked.
“Let’s hope last night was unique.”
“From your lips,” Tau said, eliciting a nod from the Petty Noble.
Jabari reached over, placed his hands behind Tau’s head, and pulled him close. Their foreheads touched. “Whatever comes, we’re sword brothers. We’ll face our tests as the Chosen have always done, with sharp bronze.” He let go, slapped Tau playfully on the back of the neck, stood, and walked off toward the keep, whistling.
Tau prepared to leave. His body ached, but there was a nervous energy in him that wouldn’t let him rest, and as much as he didn’t feel like “playing sword,” he welcomed the distraction the exercise would give.
Groaning, he limbered up and pulled his blade free of its scabbard. He went through his forms, trying to be as perfect as possible, and, blinking sweat from his eyes, he made himself move faster and faster.
Tests, he thought, always tests. So much of Chosen culture revolved around fighting and tests, but he didn’t want to spend a cycle of his life at the Southern Ihashe Isikolo, sparring with other wood-headed brutes, just so they could all spend a tenth of their lives on the front lines of an unending war. He didn’t want to kill women and men he’d never met and, equally important, he didn’t want them to kill him.
He’d never even… Well, he shouldn’t imagine Zuri like that. He did, though. He did some nights, picture them married, behaving as married people might. Tau’s face felt hot, hotter than the sun’s heat seemed to merit.
Imagining would be all he’d ever get, if he went to war and couldn’t come back for six cycles plus one more for training. Seven cycles away, would Zuri even remember him? Even if she did, Ihashe weren’t known for making the best husbands, and after one battle and all the nightmares that had come with it, Tau could understand why. It didn’t mean he was about to forgive his mother for leaving them for a pretty-faced and soft-handed man from the Governor caste, but he couldn’t pretend he didn’t understand why she’d done it.
There was no love lost between Aren and Makena, his mother’s fancy husband, but the man did make his mother happy, and Tau didn’t want to begrudge her that. Being happy was all anyone wanted. He wanted to be happy. He thought he could be, if Zuri would have him.
He swung his dull practice sword harder, trying not to envy Makena. The man was several castes above Tau, and it always seemed like his life had been easy. He hadn’t even had to fight in the war or be made a Drudge. The lucky bastard passed his Ihashe testing but was injured badly enough to be dismissed. He was allowed to go back to his home to serve as an administrator instead of a warrior.
Of course, Aren didn’t think it was luck. He said the way Makena limped and the kind of break in his leg wasn’t the sort you got from training or a fall. It was, Tau had heard Aren say after a few drinks, the kind of injury a man got when he felt a crippled leg was a better thing than honorable service.
Tau swung for the neck of his pretend opponent. His father could look down on it all he liked, but the outcome didn’t seem so bad. Makena got to avoid the war and marry the woman he loved. As much as Tau admired his father, given a choice, he’d take Makena’s life.
Tau stumbled and almost fell as the realization hit him like a thrown rock. He did have a choice. His best friend was the umbusi’s second son. His mother and her husband were two of the umbusi’s chief administrators. So long as Tau passed the Ihashe test, he would have fulfilled his duty and could not be made a Drudge.
And if he happened to be horribly injured shortly after the test… well, that would be a shame. He’d have to come home to Kerem, his family… and Zuri.
Tau exhaled, releasing tension he’d held for so long he’d forgotten it was there. He had a plan that could solve all his problems, and the thought filled him with relief and peace. It didn’t last long.
Shame chased away the sense of calm he’d only just found. He was Aren Solarin’s son, and avoiding his duty through deceit and selfishness was beneath him. His father had taught him better. That should have been the end of it, but he remembered the young woman he’d murdered in Daba, and the shame lost its grip.
He would not kill women and men in a war with no end. He would not be part of the madness. Tau had a way out and, by the Goddess, he’d take it.
He thrust a lethal blow at an illusory enemy, imagining it to be the life he’d been expected to lead. “I’m done with killing!” he said.
“You killed someone?”
“Cek!” he swore, swinging round to see another face from his dreams.
It was Zuri.
COURAGE
“Zuri? I-I didn’t…” He bowed his head, his face burning at the thoughts he’d just been having. “Apologies,” he said.
“No, I shouldn’t have startled you,” she said, her arched eyebrow letting him know that, startled or not, she had not expected to hear such language. “I was watching you train. You’re good.”
“You’re kind.” Tau sheathed his sword. He wanted to add that she was beautiful. He didn’t have the courage. “I’m not that good,” he said instead. “I just have the benefit of my father’s training. Jabari is better.” What made him say that? “I mean—”
Zuri raised a hand above her head, as if measuring a tall person. “He’s Noble,” she said. “Did you really kill someone?”
Tau went cold. “It was one of the hedeni.” He didn’t want to say more but was still recovering from the shock of it and couldn’t help but speak. “She was with two others. They tried to hurt a woman and child.”
“I’m prying—”
“It’s fine. I just…” Tau struggled to even out his emotions. “I killed her.”
“You were defending Chosen lives.”
“It doesn’t feel that way.”
“If you didn’t fight, she’d have killed a woman and child. Would their deaths be a fair price for a clear conscience?”
That didn’t seem fair. “You came to argue?” Tau asked.
She looked hurt. “Is that what we�
��re doing?” She shook her head. “I came to see you,” she said, lifting her chin and taking a deep breath. “I came to…” She gave him a nervous smile, the edges of her mouth fluttering. “I came to…”
“What?” asked Tau, confused.
“Ah…” Zuri was steeling herself for something, then seemed to lose her nerve. “I’m surprised Aren didn’t whip the skin from your back,” she said.
Tau wasn’t in the mood for her teasing. “Jabari asked me to accompany him.”
The smile slipped from her face. He’d been too terse with her. He was an idiot.
“I saw Jelani,” she said. “She told me she saw you yesterday, before the battle. She told me you were on your way to find Jabari.”
“Jelani, her mouth has always been too large for her face.”
“Tau, Jabari is many things. He’s bold, handsome, tall—”
“Is he?” Tau asked.
“But he’s not impulsive. That characteristic I’d lay at someone else’s door.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything. I came to… I wanted to see you.” Zuri had that strange look on her face again. “I wanted to make sure you were well. I needed to know that.”
“I am.”
She stepped closer, within arm’s reach, and suddenly, his arms felt heavier than boulders. She raised a hand and, hesitating, laid it on his chest. “Would you tell me, if you weren’t?”
Tau’s scalp beaded with sudden sweat. She’s being friendly, he told himself. She’s worried about a longtime friend. He looked down at her hand and back to her face. She was so close. He could almost—“The battle, w-we… I thought we had no hope,” Tau stammered.
“You fought. You kept us safe,” Zuri said, stepping closer.
Tau could feel her chest against his. “They had us. There were too many.” He couldn’t keep his mind on his words. Every time Zuri took a breath it was… distracting. “The hedeni were about to overrun us when the military arrived, with Guardians.”