The Way of the Blade

by Stuart Jaffe

  “The moment I heard of your victory, I knew the time had come. We set out last night and refused to stop until we reached the Assembly Hall.”

  “Then you didn’t come alone?”

  Krunlo laughed — a sound simultaneously devious and joyous. “I have brought with me every man and boy that can fight. And even a few too old to fight that wouldn’t turn back. One hundred and twenty soldiers in all. Ready to stand by you and help liberate Carsite from those pieces of dreck.”

  “One hundred and twenty. Do you mean it?” Canto said.

  “Of course. I don’t lie.”

  “Then we could do more than simply defend ourselves. With this force, we could launch an offensive, hit the Scarites before they can return to harm us.”

  Krunlo lit up like a child winning a prize. “I like the sound of that.”

  Returning to his seat, Shual said, “Both of you need to ease back. It’s a good idea, and one we must plan out carefully. Even with Krunlo’s hundred-and-twenty, such a bold attack would be risky. So, let’s think this through, and if we are satisfied that it can work, then let’s raze them to the ground.”

  Malja’s stomach chilled at their enthusiasm. Every word spoke of escalating this conflict into a full-blown war — escalation, just as Harskill had predicted. She headed towards the exit, happy that Fawbry and Tommy wasted no time in following her, when she heard their animated conversation cease.

  “Will you not help us?” Shual called out.

  Fawbry whirled around. “You’ve got a whole army now. Leave us alone.”

  Malja placed a hand on his shoulder. “We may not be done, yet,” she whispered, thinking of Harskill and what she might have to ask Fawbry and Tommy to do for her. Once Fawbry turned back, they walked out of the Hall, their footsteps echoing among the stunned silence of the Carsite leaders.

  Chapter 16

  Javery

  Two days passed before Javery could fly to the Wrenley farm. The first day, he had suffered too much from the alcohol and didn’t want to see his sister’s grave in that condition. The second day, he had simply lacked the courage.

  How could he face her when his mind thought up one method after another to remove Canto from his position of leadership? What could he say to her when his heart wanted Canto weakened and humiliated?

  But by the afternoon of that second day, he had no choice. Soralia always had been the cold check on his meandering thoughts, the logical reason behind his wild ideas, and the careless enthusiast tempering his angry defeatism. After watching the praise hefted on Canto, Javery needed Soralia more than ever.

  The higher altitude of the farm left the air crisp and fresh. Next to the mound of dirt, Javery spiked a simple, wooden marker. He sat with a drawing pad and his finest ink.

  “Si-Si,” he said, his tone soft and loving. “Don’t be upset with me. I’m going to make your portrait so you have a proper grave, and I won’t let a day go by without visiting you. I’m sure it gets a little lonely up here, but the Wrenley’s have agreed to let you remain untouched and that’s how it should be. Anyway, it’s better like this. It gives us the privacy we need so I can talk with you.”

  Javery dipped his pen in the ink and began sketching the shape of Soralia’s face as best he remembered it. As he drew, he told her all about his ambitions and the way everyone in the town seemed to undercut his achievements. He hesitated to mention Canto, but in the end, he told her about how Canto had taken the position that he had sought.

  “I don’t blame you,” Javery said. “In fact, had you lived, I might have been a bit happy for Canto because I know you would have enjoyed being the wife of the town’s leader. But instead, you are gone and I’m stuck. Betrayed by Father, betrayed by the town — how can I help them all, if they keep rejecting me?”

  Javery’s hand slashed in the lines of her hair. He poked the ink and spilled some of the dark liquid onto the ground.

  “I wish I could talk with you for real. Thank Carsite and Pali I still have Druzane.” He frowned and his pen cut into the paper. “I haven’t seen her since the big party. Truth is, though, that I haven’t tried to see her.” He chuckled bitterly. “I know, I know. But she should have left with me. There are times when the political thing to do doesn’t matter. I needed her. Yet keeping away from her seems more of a punishment to myself.”

  Though his hand continued to draw, he no longer saw the portrait. “Do you remember the little cave we would play in. Well, you called it a cave. Really it was where they dug for the Great Well the first time and missed. I loved that place — our Great Hideaway. Do you remember the last time we were there? We traded all we knew about sex and I told you everything about boys and you told me everything about girls and we talked about how wanting someone could actually hurt when the need was so strong. That’s Druzane.”

  He stood and gazed at the grave. “These two days have tortured me without her. You’re right, Si-Si, as usual. I’ve been stupid to deny myself the one pleasure I have — especially after Canto stole the rest from me.”

  He placed the portrait on the marker and stepped back to admire his work. The image did not resemble Soralia at all. It resembled nothing but mad scratching. Except ... as he inspected the portrait closer, he saw a demonic head with narrowed, hunting eyes and a ridged crest. Its mouth drooled, and coarse hair grew from its jaw. Worst of all, it had a hooked nose like one he saw every morning in the mirror.

  “No!” Javery smashed his fists against the grave marker. He grabbed the paper and ripped it, tossing the pieces behind him. “Not me!” With one hand, he yanked the marker out and batted it against the ground. Tears dribbled down his cheeks. His rage choked his words, and unable to articulate, he screamed out, slamming the marker down over and over until it splintered into five, jagged pieces.

  At length, breathing hard and wiping the snot dangling from his nose, Javery stumbled off to his autofly. Soralia knew best. He wanted Druzane; he should seek her out. She probably had been waiting for him to get over his loss to Canto. She would be ecstatic to see him, and knowing her so well, she would be anxious to take off her clothes and bed him.

  As he flew towards the surface, he hardened thinking about her naked body pressing against him. He would show her how brave he could be. He would show her that he could still find a way to become the leader of the town. Because together they were unstoppable. That’s why they had such incredible sexual experiences together — it was a testament to their unique connection.

  Two children playing with sticks in the street scrambled when Javery plopped the autofly down in their path. People gawked as he hopped out. He guessed that many of them wanted to complain about his improper parking, but none would dare for a few more months — not until Shual ceased openly mourning Soralia’s death.

  Besides, they never gave him the credit for the things they did approve, so why should he care if the people disapproved?

  He turned his back toward the town and faced Druzane’s building. Only Druzane mattered. With her by his side, the rest would be easy to fix — somehow.

  She lived in the room at the end, and the hall seemed to stretch further with each step he took. His mouth dried, and his fingers danced along his side. He had ignored her for two days. How mad would she be? Would she forgive him? Of course, she would. If nothing else, Druzane’s desire to help him rise to the top could not be denied. She would be cross and might even hold it against him for a bit, but in the end, they belonged together.

  A tubby woman passed him in the hall. Her face squinted into a tight, worried ball. She said something, but Javery’s mind had locked into playing out scenarios of the coming moments with Druzane.

  He didn’t hear the woman.

  He didn’t hear his own footsteps.

  He didn’t hear the deep, rough voice groaning.

  He didn’t hear Druzane’s pleasured squeals.

  But he saw.

  He stood in her doorway and stared at the naked forms of Druzane and Canto. She smiled as if
caught peeking at a present, as if nothing serious could come of this. Canto’s hands covered her breasts while she straddled him — like she had done for Javery times before.

  Though Druzane giggled, Canto’s face became serious as he lifted her off and stood. He did not put on his robe, though, and his nakedness angered Javery even more.

  Canto put out his hands. “Now, Javery —”

  “Bastard!” Javery hurled forward, throwing his fists without skill but armed with rage.

  Canto deflected the attack with ease, stepping at an angle which forced Javery to slip by and tumble onto the floor. To Druzane, he said, “You told me that you were no longer with him. Why is he acting like he caught you cheating on him?”

  “She’s mine,” Javery said.

  “You had your chance,” Druzane said with a slick venom that he had never heard from her before. “But you’re too much of a coward to marry me, too much of a coward to stand up to your father, and too much of coward to fight in the battle. That’s right. You think I don’t know about that? You really think the entire town doesn’t know? They put Canto in charge because he’s a true leader, a true man.”

  Javery looked up from the floor. “Why are you saying this? Don’t you love me?”

  “I’m sorry, Jave,” Canto said, pulling on his robe. “I didn’t know the two of you still had —”

  “We don’t,” Druzane said, gazing down on Javery as if she smelled something foul. “For a time, I thought he might be somebody worthwhile, but now that I’ve been with a real man, I see he’s nothing. I’d rather sleep with a Scarite before giving myself to him again.”

  “Druzane,” Canto said. “That’s Shual’s son.”

  “You’re Shual’s son, now.” She kissed him, pressing her breasts against him, reaching down and caressing him between the legs — all while Javery watched. “I can be a great woman to you.”

  Canto grabbed her wrists and pushed her back. He looked from Javery to Druzane and shook his head. “This was a mistake,” he said and trudged off.

  Druzane took two steps to follow before noticing she had no clothes on. “Wait,” she said, but he was gone.

  Javery’s bitter laughter filled the air. He watched as she tossed a robe around her body and scowled at him. He felt the wetness on his face but made no move to wipe away his tears — even as his laughing turned into a wailing cry. “Why did you do this to me? To us?”

  “When was there ever an us? Was it the time when you failed to announce our engagement? Or perhaps the times before that when you failed to acknowledge me to your family?”

  “I was wrong. I admit it. I need you.”

  “You need me in your bed, and now that I’m not there, now you notice me. That’s all I’ve ever been to you, and I played it up as much as I could, but it was no use. You’re too much of a coward to ever take control of the real power around here.”

  Her words slapped him in the face and sobered him. His tears dried as he watched the contempt ooze out of Druzane. He got to his feet, fixed his disheveled robe, and wiped his nose. He dared one last look at her, but her burning glare left no room for his heart. He raised his head as if in victory, and with a dignified stride, he walked out of the room — all the time, praying to Carsite for the strength to keep his legs from buckling.

  Outside, he took to the air in his autofly and hovered amongst the floating islands. For ten minutes, he cried. He let the tears pour unhindered, hoping to empty himself of every last sorrow. But it would not end — maybe it never would.

  At length, his mind turned to Malja. He had to inform her of Canto and his betrayal to the Carsite people — sleeping with a whore like Druzane mere weeks after the death of Soralia.

  But what of the things he overheard Malja telling Fawbry and Tommy? No. Those things came from sneaking in the night with Druzane. Who knows what Malja had truly been talking about? All he could be certain of was that if Druzane had wanted him to hear it, then he could no longer trust the quality of that moment. After all, Malja had given them the ability to stand against the Scarites, she had brought together the town and formed a unified force, and she could do the same for him — help him find the courage inside to take control of the town and set them on a prosperous course.

  He guided the autofly over the rooftops until he reached the guest house. After landing behind the building, he strode towards the entrance. He had to pause a moment, his hand on the wall for support, as a wave of pain struck his chest and memories of Druzane followed — the real Druzane he had felt so strongly for instead of the monster he had just met.

  As he stood there, fighting tears and nausea, he heard voices above him. Glancing up, he saw the window that opened into Malja’s room.

  “Don’t fight me on this,” Malja said.

  Fawbry’s voice came next, clear and firm. “I don’t like the idea of you going off without us. This isn’t Corlin. We don’t have places to go.”

  “If you come with me, then it’ll all fall apart.”

  A pause. “Tommy’s right. There’s nothing to fall apart except us. We have to stay together.”

  “We will.” Malja sounded less certain. “Harskill told the truth when he said this situation would escalate. I need you here to make sure the Carsites are prepared. You need to convince Canto to make you his generals. You both know how to fight, you know tactics, you’ll do fine.”

  “Of course we’ll do fine. That’s not our point.”

  “I have to visit Harskill. I have to talk with him. See if there’s some way to stop this conflict.”

  Javery covered his mouth as he slid to the ground. Harskill? How could she think to deal with the enemy? He wanted to scream and wail and throw up. He shoved his fingers in his mouth and bit down to keep from giving himself away.

  He lay like that for several minutes. A rock stabbed his back, yet he did not move. He watched the shapes of clouds and islands above, and for a brief time, the idea that insanity might take over welcomed him. But the longer he lay there, sane and pained, the longer he knew that Carsite would not let him go so easily. The people deserved better.

  Canto had betrayed them. Druzane had betrayed them. And now Malja betrayed them.

  Chapter 17

  Malja

  After Fawbry and Tommy left her room, Malja cleaned and sharpened Viper. She thought little while doing this repetitive task, and that suited her fine. But as she braided her hair, he mind rehashed Fawbry’s arguments. She understood his reticence but hoped he would trust her once more. She needed both of them in charge here. If she didn’t return, if Harskill bested her, then she wanted to know that they had a fighting chance.

  She hefted on her long coat, sheathed Viper, and climbed the ladder that led to the roof. She walked to the center, the afternoon sun hot against her face, and her do-kha reacted by cooling her skin.

  “Okay,” she said to her do-kha. “Let’s see if you can make this just as simple.” She closed her eyes and pictured Harskill. I want to contact this man. This Gate. Contact his do-kha.

  Nothing happened.

  She felt nothing in her body. Heard nothing. Saw nothing.

  She sighed, and walked to the back corner of the roof where a stone prong reached high enough to create a wedge of shade. She waited for a half-hour. Nothing changed.

  Picturing Harskill again, she walked to the center of the roof. “I want to contact Harskill.”

  Still nothing.

  For several hours, she tried every approach she could think of — silent, out loud, walking, standing, sitting, anything that would make her do-kha behave. The sun lowered to the horizon, and she kicked her heel into the roof. What was the point of having a do-kha that would react to her needs when it wouldn’t help her when she needed it the most?

  “Well, Fawbry, looks like you don’t have to worry about me leaving,” she muttered as she headed towards the ladder.

  “Don’t give up yet,” Harskill said.

  Malja whirled around, but nobody was there. Her left
hand tingled as if an army of insects crawled over it. She glanced at her hand — the do-kha covered it like a gauntlet. She held her hand up and watched as the do-kha stretched from her palm several inches high.

  “Harskill?” she said, as the stretched fabric reshaped into a semblance of Harskill’s face.

  He smiled. “Not bad. Keep practicing and you’ll be able to get a much clearer connection.”

  “I don’t know what I even did.”

  “All of your attempts were fine. The do-kha listens to you, to your body, so it’s hard to do it wrong, once you know how to speak to it.”

  “You know I tried several attempts? How long ago did I actually make contact with you?”

  “From the first, of course. But it wasn’t until this last try that you made a solid connection that we could speak on.”

  “You didn’t think to help?”

  Harskill raised an eyebrow but offered nothing more as an answer. “Should I assume that this contact is because you wish to do as I asked? To come visit the Scarites? Or is there something else that brings you to me?”

  She wanted to curl her fingers into a fist, to crush this image of Harskill sitting on her palm, but when she tried, the motion disrupted the do-kha’s connection with him. Easing her hand, the connection regained its strength.

  “If you try anything,” Malja said, “Fawbry and Tommy will lead the entire Carsite army against you.”

  “Of course.”

  Malja couldn’t be sure, but she swore she caught a malicious grin sneak through the odd image. “So how do I get to you? You want me to take an autofly?”

  “A little patience. Transportation is on its way.”

  Twenty minutes later, a talionog landed on the roof, it’s massive wings stirring up clouds of dust as it settled. It moved to Malja and lowered its head. With a clear tremble in her hand, she reached out and stroked the feathered head. It lowered its right shoulder to the ground and waited.