by Evan Winter
Tau wondered if the KaEid had ever seen a raid. There was nothing about Daba that had seemed safe. Hadn't the hedeni navigated the coastline of that protective ocean? Had they not Scaled the peninsula's mountains? Had they not killed Chosen in their beds that night?
"Xidda is our proving ground. It exists to make us strong enough to end the world's greatest evil. We will pass the Goddess' test and defeat the hedeni. Then, triumphant, strong, we will return to Osonte and end the Cull!"
Tau wasn't afraid of genocidal silver-skinned immortals. He'd never seen them. He knew no man, woman, or child who'd ever seen them. They were fairytales to hide the real evil, the evil on the stage in front of him.
"There are challenging times ahead," the KaEid told them. "The hedeni have once again formed alliances among their savage tribes." The crowd was unsettled by that admission, and the ripple of fear rooted many in place, making it difficult for Tau to push through.
"They are many! Ten to every one of us," the KaEid cried out. "But we stand firm against them. We are the unbroken cliff that cleaves the endless ocean." The KaEid had the crowd. They were quiet, listening. "What are countless hordes in the face of faith and righteousness? Nothing! What are spears and axes against the unyielding bronze of the greatest military Uhmlaba has ever known? Nothing! What are savages, against the rage of Dragons?"
The crowd roared and the honored warriors on the stage lifted their Dragon-scale weapons into the air. The cheer was deafening, and Tau was almost to the platform. He could see the beads of sweat on Kellan's forehead. He put his hands on his swords. He'd kill him first, then Obasi. He'd— he saw Dejen.
"There!"
Tau turned. It was one of the city guards, his sword already clear of its scabbard. The man was with three others, and they were between Tau and the platform. The crowd of people nearest Tau recoiled as the men, baring bronze, headed in their direction.
"The Chosen must fight faithlessness," said the KaEid to the masses. "The Chosen must fight the hedeni. We do the Goddess' bidding and she blesses our valley, holding the Curse that blights the rest of Xidda at bay."
One of the Lessers, a Governor, stood his ground, complaining to the nearest city guard about the rough treatment. The guard bashed him in the face, the Governor crumpled, and two other guards snatched him up. No doubt thinking him part of the commotion.
Tau took another look at the platform. The KaEid was still speaking. The Queen was watching her. She looked displeased. Kellan was focused on the KaEid and so was Odili. Dejen, however, had noticed the disturbance in the crowd. His eyes scanned the mass of people and Tau shrank back, feeling an instinctual need to hide from the behemoth.
Tau thought of his father. Remembered Dejen taking Aren's life. Tau steeled himself. He would avenge his father. He would fight. His eyes flicked, unasked, to Dejen Olujimi and Tau stepped back, away from the platform, his fear too much to overcome.
"You, there!" The nearest guard shouted, pointing to Tau.
Tau hesitated, knowing that to push forward was death. He'd be killed in the crowd, on the point of a city guard's blade, or he'd die on the end of a Dragon-scale sword. In either case, his father's death would mean nothing.
"Hold!" shouted his nearest pursuer, less than a dozen strides away.
Tau took another step back. The crowd was cheering at something the KaEid had said. Several rows behind her, to her right, was a familiar face. It was Jayyed Ayim. Jayyed was standing and clapping and his Guardian dagger caught Tau's eye, giving Tau a sliver of hope.
Jayyed was one of the best Ihashe the Isikolo had ever trained. Jayyed could teach Tau to kill. Jabari had called him a match for the Royals and even the Indlovu. Jayyed Ayim could give Tau the tools with which to take vengeance.
The closest guard shoved a Common out of the way and stretched out his arm, reaching for Tau, but Tau turned, evading the guard's grasp. He ran, forcing his way out of the crowd, away from the platform, and away from Kellan, Dejen, and Abasi. He felt shame as he did it, swearing to himself that he fled not from fear, but necessity.
Tau, son to a murdered father, had to become an Ihashe. He had to challenge Kellan and Dejen within the law. Then, he could duel, humiliate, and kill the men publicly. After them, he'd face Abasi Odili and would take his time killing him. The Goddess would have to take mercy on Abasi, for he would not. Tau ran, desperate to escape the city's guards. He was not ready to face his foes, but he would be.
MATCH
Tau lost the city guards in the crowd. However, there were only a few paths out of the circle that could be taken, so the guards sent men down them, looking for him. Tau had climbed a building, a store it looked like. He'd hidden on the roof and waited for the guards to pass him by. When it seemed safe, he'd climbed down, twisting his ankle on a loose rock. He was fine, but had to limp his way through the poorer sections of Kigambe, looking for a place to rest.
That night he slept at the dead-end of a short alley. He pressed his back against the alley's rearmost wall, watching its entrance. He placed his swords and pack behind him, hoping no one would attack him for his few possessions. He was hungry, but tired enough that his empty stomach could not keep him awake. He slept in a sitting position, dreaming of the life he'd lost.
He woke before dawn, tired. He knew he should sleep more, but couldn't make himself. Instead, he waited until the sun's heat returned to the world. When it did, he gathered his things and went looking for the famed Heroes' Circle, where the Ihashe testing for the Southern Tear took place.
He found it by following the throng of armed young men. He tried to blend in, but the others avoided him. Tau was dirty, smelled worse than he looked and his scabbing scar, winding its way from nose to cheek, didn't help.
Tau began to worry he'd be turned away on appearance alone. True, every Lesser had the right, some would say duty, to test for the Ihashe, but Tau didn't relax until he saw others in equally rough shape.
The other young men, in threadbare clothing, carrying rusting equipment and often barefoot, were Low-Commons from the smallest hamlets. They would have had inadequate training, they'd be malnourished, and there was little chance of them passing the rigorous testing. Tau couldn't help comparing himself to them. It was not helpful. Given how he felt, he wasn't sure his chances were much better than theirs.
The Heroes' Circle was larger than the one in which the Guardian Ceremony had taken place and it was filled with thousands of men. Traditionally, one-in-ten would make it into the Isikolo. The failures, especially if they were Low or High-Commons, would have to try for the Ihagu or become Drudge.
The Ihagu were guards, foot soldiers, fodder. They did not receive official military status and were often the first to die in the Omehi's unending war against the Xiddeen. Being Ihagu was not good enough. Tau needed official military status. Tau needed to be better than nine of every ten men in the circle.
"Test-takers!" yelled a hard-faced and Full-blooded Ihashe warrior, "Line up. You'll get a number and linen with which to wrap your practice sword. Wrap it well. If the linen falls loose, or you draw blood because of an uncovered edge, you lose your match.
"The rules are simple. The Maimed that attends your fight will count each hit you make as a point and they'll give your opponent a point for each hit you take. You win if your opponent begs for the Goddess' mercy or if you're up on points when the match ends.
"Matches last two-hundred breaths. The attending Maimed counts the points and breaths. The match doesn't end if you yell 'no' or 'Cek' or any other mka. You say, 'Goddess' mercy' and the hitting stops, neh?"
Tau and the others murmured their acceptance.
"There are no head strikes. You hit someone in the head, you lose. You step outside the ring, you lose. You lose on day one, you're out. You lose on day two, you're out. You make it to day three, you're in, but it's still a fight.
'The Isikolo masters, that's 'Umqondisi' to you, will be watching on day three. They're looking to claim talent for their Scale. Trust me, yo
u want to make it into a good Scale."
There was more nodding.
"Last thing, you happen to be Tsiory reborn and win ten matches then you're in, no matter what day you do it on." The man smiled at some private joke. "So, make ten wins today." The Full-blood strode off, calling over his shoulder to them. "Get your numbers, get to fighting."
The Ihashe testers knew their business and the long lines of test-takers were handled with speed as the busy circle hummed with hushed voices and nervous energy. It was the sound of thousands of men preparing, focusing, wrapping their dull practice swords in thick protective linen.
Tau saw that those with gambesons donned them and those without wore many layers of their heaviest clothing. It made him thankful for his father's old gambeson. He knew the other men, the ones layering up, wouldn't last a two-hundred count in the sun. They'd have to beat their opponents quickly or risk sun-sickness.
"Five-thousand and forty! Five-thousand and forty!" a Maimed called out near the set of five individual fighting circles to which Tau had been assigned.
"Ready," Tau shouted in response.
He was in the day's first round of fights. Other Maimed called out other numbers and other men stepped forward. Tau took a deep breath, closed his eyes, emptying his mind like Aren had taught him. He sought the calm, the peace that would allow his muscles to relax, and his training to take over. It didn't come.
"C'mon then," said the Maimed judging his match. "I've got a long day, neh."
Tau stepped forward and the Maimed, who was missing his right leg below the knee, handed him a battered helm and bronze shield. The shield was rounded off, unlike the razor sharp-edges it'd have for war. Chosen fought with sword and shield, but Tau had always struggled in training with his shield. He hadn't even taken it to the raid in Daba.
Tau hefted the round metal disk and slipped his left arm through the straps. It was heavier than the one his father let him use for practice. He raised and lowered his left arm, to get a feel for it, and plopped the ill-fitting helm on his head.
"Five-thousand ninety-two!" The Maimed was calling for Tau's opponent. "Where are you, char it."
"Here, here. I'm here."
Tau's opponent was Tau's height and from the Governor Caste. He was slim, had squinty eyes, and the skin on his thin face was pockmarked bad enough to make him look like one of the Cursed.
The Maimed gave the man his gear and pointed to the fighting circle. Tau's opponent ran onto it, choosing his spot first. When Tau moved opposite him, he knew why. Tau was facing into the sun.
"It's Tau," Tau said.
The pockmarked Governor ignored him, sending his sword in fancy circles.
"Fight!" growled the Maimed and the Governor ran at Tau.
It took him no time to cross the distance and he swung for Tau's head. Tau leapt back and brought his sword up to block the illegal blow. He was quick to realize his error, but it was still too late. His squinty-eyed opponent dropped the ruse, changed levels, and bashed Tau under the arm. Tau lurched backwards, almost dropping his sword from the pain.
"Point!" yelled the Maimed.
Tau was on the defensive and had to dance backwards to avoid getting clobbered. The Governor was slender, but fast. His follow-up attacks pushed Tau all the way to the edge of the ring, almost forcing him out. With no more than a step to spare, Tau skipped away from the edge and towards the fighting circle's center, taking a hit to the thigh and body as his did.
"Point! Point!" said the Maimed.
Tau was out of breath. The match was in its early stages, but he'd spent all of it running. Getting desperate, he launched an attack of his own.
He thrust at his opponent's trunk and the Governor turned, avoiding the strike. Tau darted forward, jerking his blade into a side-swiping swing that would crash into the man's exposed back. The Governor whirled, to face Tau's swing. He blocked the strike and, with his near arm, he elbowed Tau in the temple.
Tau reeled, disengaged, and flashed a look at the Maimed. The officiant shrugged. It seemed that head strikes made without the use of weapons were allowed, though no points were awarded.
The Governor brought himself back to center, squinting worse than before. "Looks like your journey ends here, Drudge," he said.
Tau swung and the Governor stepped out of reach.
"You're not bad," he said. "You're just not good."
"Half-match," the Maimed shouted.
It had been a hundred count and Tau was three points down. He pushed forward, swinging at the pockmarked Governor's shoulder, leg, and arm. The Governor blocked each attack, while moving in circles.
"Don't worry," he told Tau. "Low-Commons belong in the Ihagu. Last in Caste, first to be passed."
Tau was tired, hungry, and hot. His underarm throbbed where he'd been hit, and his sweat was seeping into the wound on his face, making it burn. And, he was losing.
This was not something Tau had prepared for. His whole life, he'd believed his training enough to get through the testing. He'd counted on it and his abilities were failing him.
The Governor threw a mock thrust his way and Tau stumbled back. The Governor laughed and Tau grew angry. He refused to let a stunted pock-faced mka stop him.
He let out a war cry and went for the Governor. He called on fighting form after fighting form, intending to overwhelm the skinny Cek, but the Governor pranced about, dodging this, blocking that, and counter-attacking whenever Tau overextended.
"Point! Point!" the Maimed called out two more times.
Tau's barrage ended with him down five points to nil.
"No matter, Tau," the Governor said, stretching out his name like it was a dirty word. "Your mother will still love you. Just tell her the truth. You lost to a better breed of man."
He was trying to make Tau angrier. He wanted Tau's head to be clouded. He wanted him making mistakes, and it was working. Tau was furious and, even filled with fury, he couldn't deny the simple fact that the Governor was the stronger swordsman.
RULES
Tau could not beat the Governor and tried telling himself that revenge did not depend on being military. He told himself that he would go to Citadel City. He would find Kellan and put a knife in the man's back. He would learn where Dejen Olujimi lived and he'd slit the Ingonyama's throat while the man slept. He told himself that Abasi Odili could die in a similar manner and that it would serve, but it wouldn't.
Tau could not give peace to Aren's soul, or himself, by killing men who did not know the reason for their death. Even attempting it risked discovery and discovery meant execution for his mother, her husband, and his sisters.
No, Tau had to make it into the Ihashe, which meant he had to win. And, there was no cost he would not pay.
"I'll tell my family," he said to the Governor. "I'll tell them I lost to a half-breed slough-skin, whose real father, his hedena father, must have taken his mother in the dirt, on a raid."
"Cek!" said the Governor, coming fast for Tau.
Tau tried to fend him off, but lost another point. He was down too many and worried there was not enough time. He had to work faster.
"Did your mother like it, you think?" said Tau, disgusted with himself, his behavior, and plan. "Rutting with a savage in the muck? How can the man, who calls himself your father, look at that marked-up face and not know you come from heretic stock."
"You debased Low-Common Cek!" The Governor battered at Tau's sword and shield.
Tau did his best to defend, gave up another point, and lowered his shield and sword to cover the bottom half of his chest and waist. The Governor was in a fervor and, though Tau was getting the worst of the engagement, his opponent was not able to dole out the kind of punishment he wanted.
"Yes, yes!" squealed Tau, doing his best to imitate Chibuzo, who had been three cycles older and had bullied Tau mercilessly. "Give it to me! Put a pock-faced hedena in me!" Chibuzo, the bully, had managed to make it into the Ihashe Isikolo. Chibuzo had died there, in training.
Th
e Governor screamed and swung wildly. It was the swing Tau had been waiting for. He slipped inside the heaviest part of it, sent a prayer to the Goddess, and took the blow on the side of the head.
The world exploded in a dazzle of multi-colored light. Then, Tau was on the ground. His helm had come off. It rolled in lazy circles beside him. Dazed, but expecting another attack, he raised his sword. The attack didn't come.
"No! No!" the Governor said, pleading. "I didn't mean—"
"The match is over," the Maimed told him. "We have a winner, by disqualification."
"You can't! He's not deserving! You can't—"
"What you can't do is strike an opponent in the head," the Maimed told him. "The winner is Five-thousand and forty."
Tau won. He was still in and needed to prepare for his next match. He tried to stand. The world turned green and his eyes crossed. He squeezed them shut, took a calming breath, like his father had taught him, and forced his way up. He could do this.
He stepped out of the fighting circle, his head feeling altogether too large, and the sights and sounds of combat swirled round him. He heard bronze clanging on bronze, shouts, screams, and points being called as the young Lessers of the Southern Tear battled for the chance to become real killers.
The Governor was still arguing with the Maimed who had judged their match. He had to be carried out of the fighting circle by two Full-blood Ihashe. Tau felt no satisfaction. The Governor was right. Tau hadn't deserved the win.
In the nearest circle, a massive man, one of the biggest Lessers Tau had ever seen, was crushing his opponent, who quickly called for the Goddess' mercy. On Tau's other side, the match was more even. Two warriors hacked at each other like they were stonecutters. The fighting was all strength and bluster, no technique. Tau couldn't tell who would win, but at least the world no longer looked bright green.