by Anna Kashina
Kyth lowered his saber, feeling every muscle in his body moan in response. According to his trainers, he was still a few days away from the completion of his training set, and he did not think he could possibly live through it. He knew he was improving, able to face ten men in a light practice fight – something he would have sworn to be impossible only a week ago. Mai had said that by the end of the practice he should be able to handle twelve. But right now, Kyth was wondering if he would die first, making it all unnecessary in the first place.
Had it been a mistake to surrender command to Mai after all? Was this man trying to kill him? He dismissed the thought. Mai surely had far easier ways to kill him without engaging twelve trainers day and night in the process. Most likely, he just wanted to thoroughly humiliate Kyth and show him once and for all who was a better man.
He limped to the side of the practice floor and collapsed on the bench next to Alder and Ellah.
“That was… good,” Ellah said with encouragement in her voice that Kyth found somewhat forced. He knew his last practice session had been miserable, when he stumbled and almost fell onto a trainer’s sword. He didn’t bother to respond, leaning his elbows over his bent knees, hanging his head in between.
“You’re just tired,” Alder said. “It will be easier after you give it a rest.”
Kyth glanced at him sideways. The only way he imagined being able to rest was if he actually died. Barring that, sitting here on the bench for a short break was all the rest he was going to have. Even when they let him go for the night his dreams were dominated by the same nightmare he lived through every day, making it impossible to find any peace.
What could have possibly possessed him to agree to all Mai’s terms so unconditionally?
Alder was a good one to talk. He was also receiving training, since his presence, and especially his spiders, were incorporated into Mai’s battle plan. But his training was of a more normal kind, with fitness sessions in the morning and sword practice in the afternoon, to ensure he could protect himself to a reasonable extent and not become a handicap to the rest of the attack force. Kyth’s practice sessions were different, with ruthless men attacking him from all sides with various weapons until his tiredness made them all a blur and he succumbed to someone’s blow. He had many cuts and bruises to show, but it wasn’t like anyone would even offer any sympathy. Kara had been the only one showing concern, but after the whole mess with the challenge, he didn’t think she had enough influence with Mai to change the way he was doing things. Worse, seeing Kyth and Kara sitting side by side at the practice range was likely to drive Mai even more insane, not that Kyth cared. Despite his aches and pains, the thought that Kara’s sympathy for Kyth would make Mai displeased brought satisfaction, and the knowledge that she cared enough to spend time with him was one of the few things that kept him going day by day.
He sensed stillness around him and lifted his head. His heart sank.
Mai was striding toward him, dashing and fit, wearing a spotless black outfit. The Emerald Guards in his wake stepped in such perfect synchrony that they all seemed like Mai’s shadow, amplified many times over.
Great. Just what I need right now.
Mai stopped right in front of Kyth, looking down on him with the calm interest of a child examining a bug he had just squashed. His eyes paused on Kyth’s sweaty forehead, his disheveled hair, the shirt, ripped at the shoulder, the sore knuckles of his sword hand. It seemed that he savored each of these details to the full before looking Kyth in the face.
Kyth felt past caring anyway. He just sat there, looking into the distance as if Mai wasn’t there at all. He didn’t want to know what Mai wanted with him this time. In his spent state, there wasn’t anything he could possibly do anyway.
“How’s the practice going?” Mai asked.
It took Kyth a moment to realize Mai wasn’t even talking to him. His eyes were directed to a trainer who had silently appeared by Kyth’s side.
“We’re up to ten, Aghat Mai,” the trainer said. “Prince Kythar is making good progress.”
Mai nodded. “Let’s try.”
Despite his tiredness, Kyth couldn’t help but lift his head. “Try?”
Mai kept a calm face. “Yes. We’re marching in five days. I want to know where we stand.”
Kyth opened and closed his mouth wordlessly. Did Mai expect him to stand up and fight?
As a matter of fact, did he really expect him to stand up?
“Perhaps,” Alder said carefully, “this can wait until tomorrow morning? It’s getting late. I hope you can see for yourself that Kyth’s very tired right now. He has just gone through five hours straight.”
Mai regarded Kyth for another long moment.
“He can do it.”
“The hell I can.” Kyth lowered his head again. He couldn’t help it if Mai was insane, delusional, and cruel. There was no way he was going to get up right now and pick up a saber.
He was surprised when Mai dropped in a quick move, kneeling in front of him and peering into his face.
“You’re too tense,” he said. “This is not the way to do it at all. It’s a wonder you progressed this far in your state. Look at you.” His eyes slid over Kyth again, taking in every detail as if enjoying his rival’s misery.
Yes, I am your rival. And she likes me better than you. The thought made Kyth feel a bit better, even though he knew he would never say anything like that out loud.
Mai shook his head. “If you can’t let go, your training is never going to work.”
Despite his tiredness, Kyth found himself bristling.
“I can already defend against ten.”
Mai’s eyes flickered with calm pity. “And in the process, you become so exhausted that you can’t even sit up straight. Are you also planning to do this in battle? Do you expect that after you spend yourself somebody will just sweep in and carry you away?”
Kyth hesitated. “The battle won’t last for five hours.”
“Battles can last for days.”
“But–”
Against reason, Kyth found himself pulling upright, so that his face was level with Mai’s.
“I can’t risk you giving up in the middle of a fight because you are too damned tired,” Mai said. “If you spend your entire strength defending against ten, how can I possibly rely on you holding up for as long as it takes?”
“As long as it takes?” Kyth’s heart sank. Up until now, he felt he was making good progress. And now, Mai had just destroyed all that with a few short words. Did this man ever know where to stop?
“Stand up.”
Mai’s short command was so unexpected that before Kyth could even think about it he found himself on his feet.
Dear Shal Addim, he’d had no idea he could even stand upright.
“Good,” Mai said. “Now, pick up your saber.”
Kyth picked it up, eyeing him warily.
Mai leaned forward and grabbed his shoulders, peering into his eyes.
“Relax your arms,” he said.
Kyth did. It seemed impossible to disobey.
“If you wield your weapon with a stiff hand, you will never be able to use it at full power.”
“What?” Kyth was having trouble thinking through his tiredness.
“That’s why we made you practice with a rope before,” Mai said. “Think of your blade as if it’s a rope, soft and relaxed until you drive its end into a target. Don’t think of it as hitting. Try to reach instead.”
His intensity drove through Kyth’s stupor, a hypnotising combination that, against reason snapped him back to alertness. Still, how could he possibly think of a saber as if it were a rope?
Mai let out a sigh. “You once told me that when you use your gift, it works better if you completely relax your mind, right?”
“Yes,” Kyth said slowly. He’d had no idea Mai could actually remember such things.
“Do it now. Relax your mind.”
Kyth did. In his tired state it seemed easi
er than he thought it would.
“Now, go to the practice floor.”
Kyth followed, feeling like a sleepwalker.
Mai signaled with his hand and twelve men responded, flooding the floor in Kyth’s wake.
Kyth snapped out of his trance. “Your Emerald Guards?”
Mai nodded, as if there were nothing to it. “They’re good at fighting in unison. The best technique for an attack force composed of top gems. This is your chance to see what an actual fight with the Kaddim might be like.”
Kyth swallowed, looking around the twelve motionless men standing around him, each far more fit and impressive than he ever hoped to be. Was Mai insane?
Mai shook his head. “Don’t be afraid. They won’t harm you.”
“I’m not afraid,” Kyth blurted. He was, but there was no way in hell he was going to show it. He supposed Mai’s assurance should make him feel better, but he just couldn’t feel it in his heart.
“They won’t be attacking you,” Mai said. “Just moving next to you. All you need to do is touch each of their blades with yours. Once. Can you do it?”
No. There was no way in hell Kyth was going to lift his saber again today. Yet, the challenge in Mai’s eyes drove him. Against reason, he felt he really wanted to show this man that he was not a failure, that he was up to the task.
He nodded, gripping his blade.
“Good.”
Perhaps it was because Kyth was so tired he couldn’t possibly think anymore. Or, maybe because he could sense Mai watching him, even though with the way he had to keep twelve men in sight at the same time he couldn’t possibly be sure. The Emeralds’ feet were tapping a rhythm, and Kyth’s tired mind drove him to slide into this rhythm, moving between the men, touching their blades.
Just when he felt it was beginning to get easy, he heard Mai shout a short command and the rhythm changed, acquiring a complex pattern with syncopations. Kyth cursed silently as he almost lost his balance when the men next to him changed their entire movement style in an instant. He tried to adjust, but the new beat was just too fast. He panted, trying to match, forcing his mind into a calmer state, calling in the wind. There was no way he was going to give in to this, whatever games Mai was playing with him.
The beat changed again, sliding into a slower step Kyth found easier to follow. He was just beginning to think he was getting a grip on it, when Mai’s voice sounded again. This time, the beat broke down. Bloody hell. Every man on the field was now moving to his own rhythm, no longer in synchrony, and that made their fast moves impossible to trace, let alone follow. How the hell could anyone stand up to that?
Kyth darted for a gap and threw down his saber, striding off the floor. A part of him was wondering how he could possibly have the energy to be so angry, after he had already been feeling so tired just a little while ago. But he was too angry to care as he strode up to Mai.
“Are you bloody out of your mind?”
Mai had the same look again, the quiet curiosity of a child who had just squashed a bug. There was also just a touch of challenge in his gaze as he surveyed Kyth’s sweaty face, his disheveled clothes, the way he swayed on his feet as exhaustion finally started taking its toll.
“Not bad.” Mai met Kyth’s gaze, then looked past him to the group of trainers standing at the side of the field. Kyth noticed how they all visibly relaxed after this quick praise.
“Give him a good rest,” Mai said. “Starting tomorrow, increase the number of trainers by one each session, until we march in five days.”
He briefly nodded to Kyth and strode off, followed by his Emerald Guards.
Kyth stared after him, too tired even to feel upset. It was his own bloody fault, for agreeing to surrender all command to this man, who clearly knew no boundaries in showing his superiority to everyone in sight.
He found himself wishing that some day, when this was all over, he could have it out with Mai once and for all, but he knew it was probably never going to happen. In any case, nothing seemed as important right now as sleep. At the very least, he could thank Mai for affording him the opportunity to take the rest of the day off, or whatever was left of it, anyway.
Kyth waved a weary goodbye to his friends and stumbled upstairs to his sleeping quarters.
28
AKNABAR
The Majat force consisted of over a hundred men, a small group by the standards of an army, but far more powerful than anything an average kingdom could muster at short notice. Egey Bashi couldn’t help feeling awed at being in the midst of it, one of the very few in history to be allowed to march into battle along with the Majat. Whatever mistakes Kyth had made, whatever mess they had found themselves in during his childish negotiations with his rival for the same woman’s affections, this event would be recorded in the chronicles as his achievement, aiding his recognition as a worthy future king.
Mai kept a moderate pace, setting camp early each day, so that he and his men could practice for at least two hours before sunset. That, in itself, was an impressive sight. Everyone except the Jades had to move in formation to a synchronous beat, and Mai often had Kyth join the exercise, teaching him to anticipate everyone’s moves and positions. Egey Bashi had great respect for the Prince, but he kept wondering if Kyth was going to hold up till the end. He seemed on edge, and the only lasting benefit of this arrangement was in the way all the women flocked around him afterward, each offering sympathy in her own way. Ellah’s quiet conversation visibly calmed him; Lady Celana’s open praise, the way she blushed every time she encountered the Prince, boosted his self esteem. But in the end, it was Kara’s casual talk, the way she made him lighten up just by briefly sitting at his side with a few encouraging words, that kept the Prince going. Egey Bashi couldn’t help noticing also how Mai’s eyes rested on the pair in between his numerous duties, and each of these times he prayed that both men could continue to keep their minds on the goal and not to repeat the same mistakes over again. He had higher hopes for Mai, the older and more responsible one, but the quiet triumph in Kyth’s eyes every time the two men met didn’t help at all.
Even at this pace, Egey Bashi was surprised to find that their march to Aknabar took no more than two weeks. This was probably due to the enormous influence the Majat Guild had over the lands, so that fresh supplies waited for them at every stop, men from nearby settlements joining them at each campsite to help set up and cook, and then quietly departing back to their homes. Egey Bashi believed that the Majat term for this was “camp relay”, as opposed to a simple relay when men traveled day and night changing mounts every fifty miles. Watching this made him understand how true was the old saying about the Majat’s power rivaling that of the Old Empire. In all the lands the Empire used to cover, from the northern snow caps to the distant tips of the Shayil Yaran southern deserts, the Majat had but to say a word to get anything they wanted.
What amazed the Keeper most was how Mai was able to take on all this power in such a short time. It did seem as if this man was born for his post and in some mysterious ways, unbeknownst to himself, had been preparing for it all his life – as if this knowledge of the Majat ways, up to the ultimate heights of their power, coursed in his blood. Watching him in command, Egey Bashi couldn’t possibly understand how any of them hadn’t seen this before. The glamor that surrounded this remarkable man made the very idea that he could have been killed on his Guild’s orders, or commanded anything but full surrender at the tournament, seem preposterous.
At the sight of the domed roofs of the Holy City, the Majat regrouped, dismounting and flipping their cloaks inside out, speckling them with dust. In just a few short moments the impressive military force reduced to a group of weather-beaten travelers, breaking into small groups that entered the city from different gates. Egey Bashi couldn’t help but stare. He felt more and more glad that anyone he cared for was highly unlikely to find themselves on the receiving end of the Majat wrath.
The hundred-men attack force swept through the city like flakes of
dust, seamlessly blending into the Aknabar street crowds. Even for the scouts on watch, it would have been difficult to detect that their city had just been invaded by a nearly invincible military power, about to strike at the very heart of the former capital of the Old Empire: the Holy Monastery of Aknabar.
The party reconvened in an inn, one that Egey Bashi knew well, even if he didn’t cherish the memory. Its weathered sign with a faded image of a wild flower identified it as Wild Aemrock. Run by the Majat Guild, located within an easy walk from the Monastery walls, this inn had been the base for every recent operation Egey Bashi had been involved in on his visits to Aknabar. Before, he had stayed here because of the fact that he was accompanied by a Majat bodyguard. And now, as part of the retinue of the Majat Guildmaster, he was amazed, even if somewhat nauseated, at the welcome they received.
The innkeeper, Mistress Yba – a shapeless middle-aged woman with the voice and physique of a troll – knelt as Mai walked in, touching the floor with her forehead. The reverence in her face resembled that of a newly converted priest who had just encountered the Lord of Heaven himself. Her large knobby hands shook as she clambered back to her feet, ushering the inn’s servants through last-minute preparations. Mai’s quick greeting sent her into a fit of gasps as she scurried around, finally retreating out of sight.
Mai had clearly sent word ahead to warn the innkeeper to prepare for their arrival. The inn had been completely transformed, from a dull and not-too-welcoming accommodation for the pilgrims to the Holy City, into a camp for an armed force. The large common room had been set with enough tables and benches to accommodate the entire party and all available space upstairs and downstairs outfitted with cots and beds, arranged with efficiency that made perfect use of the limited space. The back yard connected to a sizeable paddock, large enough to house all the horses. Grudgingly, Egey Bashi had to admit that, despite her obvious shortcomings, Mistress Yba knew her job. Of course, if she hadn’t, there was no way the inn would have remained on the Majat payroll for long.
Mai laid out maps and charts on the central table, bending over them in calm concentration, while his men outside were putting together the final touches to transform the inn’s back yard into a training ground. After a while the other three Diamonds joined him at the table. Egey Bashi regarded Lance, the least familiar of the group, a tall, cocky man with a dark tan, near-white short hair and pale arrogant eyes. Every Diamond was unique, but many of them shared this air of superiority, an ability to relate equally only to their fellows in rank. To Egey Bashi’s knowledge, Raishan and Kara were so far the only happy exceptions to the rule, even if Mai carried this quality with a flair that made it all but forgivable in his case.