by Ryan Hughes
She had been about to take another bite of inix; she stopped with the meat halfway to her mouth and said, "You're kidding. What's the rush?"
"There is no rush," Galar said. "That is just the way elves travel. Two short marches during the most pleasant parts of the day. Be glad we aren't in a hurry, or we would move at a run, sometimes all through the night."
Jedra had a thought. "What about the chief?" he asked. "He's got a limp. He can't run, can he?"
Galar lost a little of his smile. "He can and must if he wishes to remain chief. We have no room in the tribe for people who can't keep up, no matter who they are."
"Wonderful," Kayan said. She finished the rest of her meal in silence and disappeared immediately into the community tent, evidently determined to get as much rest as possible before the tribe moved out again.
Jedra followed her a few minutes later, the meal after such heavy exertion making him drowsy, but as he stepped into the relative darkness of the huge tent he was momentarily blind, and he crashed right into someone coming out.
"Oh, sorry," he said, backing up and blinking to see who he'd collided with. To his horror, he saw Sahalik standing there, frowning down at him as if Jedra were something smelly and unpleasant he'd just stepped in.
"Sorry," Jedra said again. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
Sahalik didn't say a word. He just stepped out of the tent, brushing Jedra aside effortlessly and continuing on his way. The hair on the back of Jedra's neck tingled as he watched the elf walk away, his head held high.
When Sahalik had disappeared around the flank of the next tent, Jedra turned back inside, found his bedroll in the now-small pile, and stepped across the sleepers to spread it out beside Kayan.
Did he give you a hard time again? he sent, but her only answer was a soft snore.
* * *
The evening march was excruciating. Muscles overtaxed in the morning walk had had just enough time to stiffen up before being called upon to perform once again, and the meal they had eaten hardly seemed to sustain Jedra or Kayan for more than the first couple of miles. Their sandals weren't made for long hikes, either; the straps dug into their feet and the sand wore the skin raw.
Wincing with every step, they slowly drifted back toward the end of the line of elves, finally settling in with the half-dozen elderly women who walked with silent determination through the cooling sand. Jedra didn't know for sure, but he suspected if any of them faltered, they would simply be left behind. That would explain their perseverance.
There were no elderly men. The tribe's chief was the oldest male Jedra had seen, and he was barely half the age of some of the women. He was still in excellent shape, too; even with his limp, it was he who set this breakneck pace. Jedra supposed most elven men died in battle or in hunting accidents long before they reached old age. Not an encouraging thought.
But then he wouldn't be traveling with the Jura-Dai for long. As soon as they reached a city where he and Kayan could arrange for more conventional transportation they could continue their search for a psionics master in relative safety and comfort. Jedra had the money he'd taken from Dornal, the dead mage. There was enough silver and gold in the leather pouch to provide for two travelers for at least a year if they were frugal, and Jedra was an expert at that. He also had the mage's charm bag full of spellcasting amulets and fetishes, which was of no use to a psionicist but might be worth quite a bit to another sorcerer. Yes, Jedra thought, if he and Kayan survived the next few days they should be all right. When the stars came out and the elves kept on marching, neither Jedra nor Kayan was at all sure what would come to pass, but finally, just as they were about to collapse right on the trail, the tribe came to a halt and began pitching tents.
Suddenly Jedra wished he had opted for bed instead. The elf girls were young and curious and hardly tired at all; their steady barrage of questions and the foreigners' answers drew more and more attention until everyone around the fire was listening to their tales of life in the city of Urik.
Kayan's description of her days as psionic healer among the templars drew a mixture of hostility and wonder. None of the elves-save maybe Galar-had ever come close to a sorcerer-king's palace, much less lived right next to one. It was clear that most of the elves didn't believe half of her descriptions of the riches she had enjoyed, especially the lush gardens the king kept hidden behind his palace walls.
Jedra's life on the streets was easier for them to understand, and in many ways more exciting. He recounted a few of his more audacious exploits in the market, and as he began warming to the subject he embellished things a bit, claiming for himself a few incidents that he had only witnessed or heard about. He was just getting to the good part of a complete fabrication about how he'd saved a noblewoman from a crazed gladiator when a sudden blow to his back sent him sprawling in the sand beside the fire.
His street instincts belatedly kicked into action. His loose robe nearly tangled him up, but he pulled it tight in front of him and rolled sideways to avoid a kick or a weapon blow, then leaped to his feet, ready to run or fight, whichever was required. It was the exact wrong thing to do; when his vision cleared he saw Sahalik standing before him, his arms crossed over his burly chest.
"Oops," Sahalik said in his deep voice. "I didn't see you there, hero." Then he sat down next to Kayan.
A few of the other elves laughed, and someone called out, "Ooh, don't let him get away with that!"
"Yeah," someone else said, "show him what you did to the gladiator!"
Jedra looked nervously at the sea of narrow faces turned toward him in the flickering firelight. They were all waiting to see what he would do, and he knew only one thing would satisfy them. He wasn't about to get himself killed just to please a tribe of elves, but even if he hadn't had an audience, he knew from experience that he had to stand up to Sahalik somehow or suffer his abuse indefinitely.
Trouble was, there was no way he could fight the elf warrior. Sahalik could tie him in a knot any time he wanted to, and they both knew it. Jedra's only chance was to humiliate him somehow and make him afraid to tangle with the half-elf again. He thought frantically for anything in his experience that might work here, and suddenly he had it. He had seen a pair of jesters stage a mock fight one time...
Straightening his robe again, he stepped back a pace to give himself some room, then swept his right foot across the ground from side to side, drawing a deep line in the sand with the toe of his sandal.
"I dare you to cross that line," he said.
The elves fell silent. They obviously hadn't expected Jedra to challenge the strongest member of the tribe.
Nor did Kayan. What are you thing? she mindsent. She started to get up, but Jedra stopped her.
Stay there! I'm trying to keep from getting killed.
I don't see how this is going to accomplish that, she said, but she settled back down.
Watch. Jedra beckoned to Sahalik with his fingers. "Come on, cross the line."
Sahalik grinned widely and came to his feet with a smooth unfolding of his legs. Balling his hands into fists, he took a step forward, then another-directly across Jedra's line in the sand.
But Jedra was no longer there waiting for him. The moment Sahalik had committed his weight to his second step, Jedra darted around him and dived for the vacant spot at Kayan's side.
"Thanks for keeping my seat warm," he said as nonchalantly as he could manage, twisting around to sit there as if nothing had ever happened.
The elves burst into laughter-all but Sahalik. The elf warrior whirled around to face Jedra, his eyebrows nearly meeting over his nose with the intensity of his scowl. He clenched and unclenched his fists, his face glowing even redder than the firelight could account for, then he shouted at the tribe, "Silence!"
He was their champion warrior, and next in line to be chief. They gave him silence. Sahalik turned back to Jedra and said, "You choose the coward's way out. Amusing, perhaps, but foolish tricks will not serve you in the desert. I
challenge you to prove your worth to the tribe."
Sahalik spat into the fire. "Mental tricks are useless if he runs from battle. He must prove that he will fight, hand-to-hand in single combat, or he must leave us now."
"He's our guest, Sahalik," Galar said.
"He is a parasite," Sahalik answered.
Galar hesitated, obviously not wanting to put himself in Jedra's place, but he couldn't abandon his friend, either. Softly, he said, "This isn't about Jedra and you know it. You're just mad because Kayan prefers him to you."
Sahalik nodded. "Perhaps. Then I challenge him to fight for her as well as for his own honor."
Kayan had kept quiet so far, but at that she got up and stood in front of Sahalik, her hands on her hips, and said, "I'm not anybody's property to fight over. I choose whom I want to associate with, and you're not my type."
Sahalik barely glanced at her. "Beware, human woman, or you may find yourself alone in the desert with only your chosen worm for company."
A few of the other elves laughed at the affront, and Jedra realized he was losing them. They'd been perfectly happy to laugh at his amusing stories, and even at his practical joke, but he was an outsider and a half-elf. They weren't going to back him against one of their own. He would have to defuse the situation some other way.
He rose to his feet and said, "All right, both of you, that's enough. Insults and taunts are for children. We're supposed to be adults here; why don't we start acting like it?"
He meant it as a rebuke of the whole argument, but Sahalik said, "Yes, why don't we? Among the Jura-Dai, adults respond to a challenge."
The elves backed him up with shouts of, "Yeah, come on!" and "Fight, fight!"
"Fighting just for the sake of a fight is for children, too," Jedra said loudly. "There are better ways to resolve our differences."
"Like what, flip a coin?" someone called out.
"No," Jedra said over the rising laughter. "We can choose a judge who will listen to both sides of the argument and decide who is right."
"You'd rather talk than fight," Sahalik said contemptuously.
Jedra turned to face him, but he spoke to everyone. "Of course I'd rather talk than fight. With talk you can actually solve the problem, but in a fight you can only beat your opponent into submission. Nothing is resolved but the question of who has the bigger muscles."
Sahalik sneered. "And the question of who has the courage to enter battle-and who does not."
Again, someone shouted "Fight!" Another voice echoed the first, then another. Once it got started there was no stopping it. Chanting "Fight, fight, fight!" continuously now, the elves backed away to clear a space around Sahalik and Jedra. Kayan and Galar stood their ground, but there was nothing they could do and everyone knew it.
Jedra felt sick to his stomach, as if he had already been punched there. He was going to have to fight this slab of muscle and sinew after all. Either that or fend for himself in the desert, and he knew how poor his chances would be there. He looked around at the jeering faces for some sign that this might be a cruel joke, that he might be offered a last-minute reprieve, but all around him he saw only hostility and eagerness for a conflict.
Then the crowd suddenly quieted. All the faces turned away from the fire, toward the tents, where a lone figure limped toward them: the chief.
Jedra sighed in relief. Surely the leader of the tribe wouldn't allow a guest to be suckered into a fight merely to satisfy one belligerent warrior. He would set things straight, and maybe even order Sahalik to leave Kayan alone from now on.
The crowd parted for the chief, then closed again behind him. "What's going on here?" he demanded.
Galar explained the situation. He left out Kayan's role in the dispute, which made Sahalik's actions seem less petty, but Jedra didn't think it wise to correct him. Sahalik looked bad enough as it was. The chief frowned throughout Galar's explanation, then he turned to Sahalik and said, "It is obvious that you have let anger cloud your duty toward hospitality. Do you persist in challenging our guest to combat?"
Sahalik stood his ground. "I do. If the half-elf is going to travel with us, I must know if he can be counted on in battle."
"I have eyes," he told him. "And ears. Rumor spreads like the wind through this camp. But we have rules, and though Sahalik's motives are suspect, he is within his right to demand a test." Jedra's heart fell again as the chief turned to him and said, "Jedra, your courage has been called into question. You must accept Sahalik's challenge or leave the tribe."
Chapter Two
"You're kidding." Jedra stared at the chief as if he'd just said it was going to rain. "Anybody here can call anybody else a coward, and that person has to fight him? That's a tribal rule?"
The chief nodded. "It is the way of the desert."
"Well it's a pretty barbaric way as far as I'm concerned," Jedra said. He sighed heavily. "But we're your guests, so I guess we'll play by your rules." He untied his robe and handed it to Kayan, leaving himself free to move in only his breechcloth and sandals.
The elves cheered and whistled, excited that there would be a fight after all. Jedra heard rapid discussion in elvish, and saw money changing hands. Was someone actually betting on him? Or were they just betting on how long the fight would last? He didn't want to know.
You don't have to do this, Kayan mindsent through the din. Not for me. We can take our chances in the desert.
Jedra flexed his arms and legs to loosen them up. Adrenalin made him feel alert, but he knew it was a false high. His body was exhausted from hours of steady marching, and it wouldn't put out much more effort without a night's rest.
Even so, he said to Kayan, No, we don't know enough yet. We'd be dead by morning. At least this way one of us will survive. And who knows, maybe both of us will. If they do this all the time, it can't very mil be a fight to the death or there'd be nobody left in the tribe.
Kayan was realist enough not to protest any further. She said, At least let me share the last of my strength with you.
She could do that, Jedra knew. She had done it in the caravan when the slave master had punished him for attempting to escape. But even together they didn't have the strength to defeat Sahalik. Not physically, at any rate. And if they tried to fight the elf psionically, their unpredictable power could just as easily kill him as subdue him. Jedra might not have minded that on general principles, but he didn't think it would sit well with the tribe. No, he told her. Save it for after the fight. I'll need it more then anyway.
She looked into his eyes, an odd, almost proud smile on her face. Could she actually be excited by all this? I'll stay linked with you in case you need me, she sent.
No, Jedra said again. I'll do better without the distraction. He pulled his hair back and tied it in a knot so it would stay out of his eyes, then said aloud, "All right, let's get this over with."
He crouched down and held his arms out in what he hoped was a fighter's stance. He had never entered a contest like this before; all his previous physical conflicts had been sudden things, ambushes in the dark or other people's brawls that got out of hand. They had all been over just as quickly, for Jedra usually didn't stick around any longer than he had to. Too many street fighters ended up dead for there to be any future in it.
The chief backed away from Jedra and Sahalik, pulling Galar and Kayan back with him into the circle of elves. Sahalik grinned at Jedra; the place where his two teeth were missing looked like a gap in a fence. No, more like a hole in a block wall. The elf was easily twice Jedra's weight. "I will feed your bones to the kanks," he said in his deep voice.
That sounded like a formal insult. Jedra certainly hoped it was, anyway. He wondered what the formal reply was, but since he didn't know it, he merely said, "They'll be too busy feeding on your bloated carcass to care." Before Sahalik could react, he leaped forward and swung his right fist into the elf's stomach, putting all his weight behind it, then dodged to the left and dived to the sand. Sahalik roared with surprise and spun ar
ound to face Jedra again, but Jedra had already tangled his legs between his opponent's. Sahalik teetered for a second, waving his arms madly for balance, but he finally toppled to the side.
That gave Jedra the perfect opportunity to grab one of the elf's arms and wrench it around behind his back, but when he tried to push himself up to do it a sharp pain lanced up through his arm and he fell back to the ground. He didn't know how to hit someone properly: he had broken his hand.
Sahalik didn't waste any time; he was back on his feet in an instant, apparently none the worse for Jedra's punch. Jedra used his uninjured arm to push himself away just as Sahalik aimed a kick at his head, then he got to his feet and circled warily to the side, watching his opponent's eyes and trying to anticipate what he would do next.
Sahalik was waiting for just such a move. The moment Jedra's weight shifted, he kicked out with one of his long legs and caught Jedra in the ribs, knocking him backward onto the sand next to the fire. Jedra gasped for breath, but none came. He didn't have time for another attempt; Sahalik was upon him in an instant, aiming a roundhouse blow to the side of his head.
Jedra jerked back, instinctively kicking out as Sahalik leaned forward, and his sandal-clad foot caught the elf square in the face. His psionic force-projecting ability added to the blow, but not enough. Sahalik rocked back but he didn't go down, and he came forward again with murder in his eyes.
But Jedra wasn't there. He had scrambled back until he could get to his feet, then leaped straight over the fire, putting it between himself and Sahalik. Finally, he managed to draw a ragged breath.
"Coward!" Sahalik shouted, jumping over the fire after him, but Jedra had expected just that. While the elf was still in the air, he reached out with his good hand and swept Sahalik's feet upward behind him. Sahalik came down on his hands, and this time Jedra leaped on his back, coming down hard with both knees over the elf's kidneys and reaching with his good hand for Sahalik's left arm. He got the warrior's bulging forearm in his grip and managed to pull it out from under him, but instead of collapsing face first into the ground, the enormous elf rolled backward as he fell, pinning his own arm under himself but also knocking Jedra off balance.