Blades of the Old Empire

by Anna Kashina

Kyth was out of time.

  37

  BREAKOUT

  The man with the cleaver took aim and raised his weapon. Kyth concentrated. Praying that Mai’s injuries were not too grave and he was still able to fight, he sent over his spearhead, cutting through the cocoon around the Majat. It struck like lightning, ragged bits of the invisible blanket falling away like dust.

  “Mai!” Kyth shouted at the top of his lungs. “Defend yourself!”

  Mai’s eyes flashed, his body coming to life with the speed that made time around him momentarily stand still. Grasping the rope that hooked his hands to the tree branch, he pulled himself up, swinging his tied feet straight at the man with the cleaver. The blow caught the man on the chin and he fell backwards, blood splattering out of his mouth.

  Without interrupting the movement, Mai pulled up his feet, so that for a very brief moment he was hanging in a crouched position upside down. A streak of steel slid out of the boot into his hand. Then Mai gave the rope a sharp tug, sending his body up onto the branch above his head. He landed on his feet, throwing off the cut pieces of rope, and looked down on his attackers. His posture was easy and balanced. His ankles and wrists were no longer bound. He held a long narrow dagger.

  Several orben-bearers rushed forward, aiming their weapons at Mai’s feet, within easy reach on the low branch. Mai danced between them, so fast that his shape was hard to trace against the dark tree crown. When one of the orbens shot up higher, he leapt with his feet forward in a move that was surely going to knock him off his perch. His attackers on the ground leered, waiting for him to fall, but at the last moment he put out his hands, landing on the branch in a sitting position. His feet closed on the orben chain, catching the spiked metal sphere at the base. He gave it a sharp tug. The orben holder swayed and let go. Mai reached out and caught the flying chain with a free hand, then pushed off and dropped down to the ground. He had an orben in his right hand and a dagger in his left. Kyth couldn’t see his face, but he could clearly see the faces of his attackers, who edged back from him with expressions ranging from surprise to fear.

  The three Kaddim brothers stepped forward, eyes shining with anger, hands outstretched. Kyth could sense how much force they were sending at the Majat, but now that he had the hang of it, he had no trouble cutting through with his invisible spearhead, keeping Mai clear of the pressure.

  When the Kaddim realized their power wasn’t working, they lowered their hands.

  “You think you can fight us all?” Nimos asked Mai.

  Mai flicked his wrist, sending his orben into a spin. He kept a short leeway, not letting the chain out too far, so that its major length was wrapped around his forearm.

  “I don’t have to,” he said. “You can just let me go.”

  “Attack!” Nimos commanded.

  Mai’s hand moved faster. He swept the orben, his unfolding body briefly blending into a streak of black. A man at the end of the line collapsed. The rest of the attackers backed off.

  The Majat moved like the wind. The orben in his hand spun so fast it wasn’t visible anymore. The entire group of their captors fanned around him, their faces determined as they lashed out with forceful orben blows. Mai was picking them off like flies, dodging the orbens with a speed and precision that made everyone around him seem clumsy and slow.

  As he spun around, Kyth could finally see his face. His heart wavered. Mai didn’t look well at all. He was deadly pale, a streak of blood running down his face. The bandage on his chest was soaked through. It was clear that, despite his incredible skill, he would not last much longer.

  “Get him!” Nimos urged. “He’s badly hurt!”

  The men hesitated, throwing glances at each other and at the fallen comrades at their feet. No one seemed to be willing to make the first move.

  Nimos threw off his cloak and strode forward, drawing two curved sabers out of the sheath at his back. His confident, graceful posture reminded Kyth that none of them had ever had a chance to appraise his sword skill. His heart sank as he looked at Mai’s pale, bloodstained face. Is he well enough to face this?

  The two opponents stood still for a moment, looking at each other with charged intensity.

  “Let’s see how badly we hurt you,” Nimos said.

  Mai smiled, his eyes lighting up with a devilish gleam.

  “I don’t normally feel this way,” he said, “but I think I’m going to enjoy this.”

  He flicked his orben at one of the blades in Nimos’s hands. The Kaddim darted to the side, avoiding the blow, but the metal orb moved in a sneaky spin, coiling around the blade very close to the hilt. Mai gave it a sharp tug, but Nimos held on. For a moment, they stood opposite each other, tugging at the chain. Then Mai threw the dagger, aiming for the hand holding the blade. Nimos let go, sweeping his hand out of the way. Mai tugged the chain and caught the saber with his free hand.

  He kept the orben in his right hand, using it as a shield as he launched a left-handed attack with the saber. He was perhaps moving slower than usual, so that spectators could fully appreciate the quality of his movements, so smooth and precise that they seemed like a dance. Nimos parried each of the blows, but from the start of the melee he never had a chance to launch an attack, forced to stay firmly on the defense. His face was composed, but Kyth sensed concern behind the calm mask. He was clearly having trouble fencing with one saber against a highly skilled left-handed opponent. The fight wasn’t going the way he anticipated.

  As Mai thrust his blade forward, his orben hand unfolded, sending the metal sphere straight at Nimos’s chest. It came so fast that even Kyth, having a good side view, had trouble catching on. The Kaddim saw the orb too late. He tried to jump out of the way, but the metal spikes caught him on the shoulder. He dropped the saber. The tip of Mai’s blade touched his throat.

  Kaddim Farros rushed toward them, stretching his hands to launch a terrible blast of power at the Majat, but Kyth held his invisible spear at the ready, cutting the power away like soft butter with a hot knife. Haghos stood back, hesitant to join the fight.

  Nimos’s eyes showed panic. He glanced around and fixed his gaze on Kyth.

  “Get the boy!” he shouted. “He’s the one doing this!”

  The Kaddim Brothers regrouped toward the new target, but Mai was faster. He dove forward and rolled over the ground, coming up to his feet beside Kyth. With a quick move he cut through the ropes, then turned, shielding Kyth against the advancing Kaddim. Kyth shook off the ropes and jumped to his feet.

  “We have to get out of here,” Mai said. “Can you do this thing you’re doing and run at the same time?”

  “I think so.”

  Mai flicked the orben at one of the attackers, sending him rolling on the ground. The Kaddim Brothers backed off, avoiding the sweep of the spiked metal ball.

  “Get to the horses,” Mai ordered.

  They turned and ran. Barked orders, cursing, and cracking echoed behind. Kyth kept all the distractions at the back of his mind, concentrating on holding his invisible spear above Mai’s head.

  As they emerged from the protective shade of the trees, they saw horses gathered in the field. Each horse was tied to a short pole, with sufficient rope to wander around the pasture.

  “We’ll have to ride bareback,” Mai said. “No time to saddle up.”

  Kyth nodded. He could hear the rapidly approaching sounds of pursuit behind them.

  “Get those two.” Mai pointed. “Ride out and wait for me. Now!”

  Kyth rushed toward the chestnut and the bay at the edge of the field. As he unfastened the ropes, he saw Mai glide in between the horses, moving very fast, in what looked like some sort of dance. The saber glittered in the moonlight, a streak of light in the Majat’s hands.

  Kyth mounted just as the first of their pursuers emerged from the deep tree shade. A dark shape flew by, and Mai jumped onto the horse next to Kyth.

  “Move!” Mai threw his face up and produced a long, shrill whistle between his teeth, answered by an
erupting stampede behind. Amidst the whinnying, shouting and cursing, they threw their horses into gallop. Kyth kept his invisible spear at the ready, but no one behind them was trying to use any power. A quick glance back told him that the pursuers had other things on their hands. The chaos of horses running off in all directions and men trying to catch them left no room for any other action.

  “What happened?” Kyth shouted to Mai above the wind.

  “The Cha’ori battle signal. I ordered the horses to retreat.”

  “How do you know–” Kyth stopped himself. It didn’t matter, as long as they were away. He sensed a wisp of power sent in their wake and focused to counter it. Then he glanced at Mai.

  The Majat looked very pale. It clearly took effort for him to stay on horseback. In the glistening moonlight, Kyth thought he saw a streak of blood running out of the corner of his mouth. Mai caught Kyth’s gaze and wiped it off with the back of his hand.

  They rode on through the night, first at a gallop then at a fast trot, until the sky in the east became gray, foreshadowing the arrival of a new day. Every once in a while Kyth threw glances behind them, but there was no pursuit.

  After a while Mai slowed his horse to a walk and Kyth followed. As he looked at the Majat in the dawning light, he realized with horror that Mai was barely holding on, and that the reason his horse had slowed to a walk was because it was getting no more signals from its rider. As he watched, Mai swayed, his head dipped forward and he slid off the horse onto the ground.

  Kyth dismounted and ran toward him. The Majat lay very still, his body turned in an unnatural way. Kyth carefully took him by the shoulder and rolled him onto his back.

  Mai’s eyelids trembled and slowly opened. He seemed to have trouble focusing.

  “Ride on,” he whispered, his words barely audible above the rustling breeze. “Leave me.”

  Kyth glanced around. They were alone in the middle of nowhere. The only company they could expect in the near future was that of their pursuers. They had to move on.

  “Are you badly hurt?” he asked. The question seemed redundant, but he just wasn’t sure what to do. It was so frightening to see Mai in such a state that Kyth couldn’t even hate him anymore. Against reason, his heart quivered with worry as he looked searchingly into the Majat’s face.

  Mai turned his head with visible effort. “I’m… fine. Just need a little rest, that’s all.” He closed his eyes and went still.

  Fighting rising panic, Kyth reached to the Majat’s neck to feel the pulse. It was there, but very weak and irregular. A streak of blood appeared from the corner of his mouth, dark against the ghostly white skin. Kyth didn’t know much about healing, but he knew enough to understand that such insistent bleeding without an obvious wound couldn’t be good. Mai was bleeding inside, and that meant trouble.

  It was clear that the Majat wouldn’t be able to ride further on his own. Yet, leaving him here as suggested would mean certain death. Kyth had no doubt their captors would eventually recover their lost mounts. The ride through the night had given Kyth and Mai a few hours’ head start, but their pursuers couldn’t be far behind.

  True, only a short while ago the only thing Kyth wanted was to see Mai dead. He tried to tell himself it was still what he wanted, but seeing the Majat so helpless was too much. He wanted to defeat Mai in a fight, to make him suffer for everything he did. But to let him die like this, wounded and helpless, after saving Kyth from his captors, was wrong.

  He carefully leaned down and put his arms around Mai’s torso, trying not to touch the chest wound oozing though its crude bandage. He lifted the unconscious body and slowly rose to his feet, supporting Mai’s weight against him.

  The Majat was surprisingly light. He was about the same height as Kyth and his entire body was sculpted of muscle, toned even in his unconscious state. It took Kyth much less effort than he imagined to walk Mai back to his horse that was fortunately standing still, calmly watching the action.

  Kyth crouched and hooked his arm around Mai’s knees, lifting him up onto the horse. Then he mounted, careful not to disturb the body. Firmly settled, he pulled Mai higher up, easing him into a sitting position in front and using one hand to hold him around the waist. It was awkward, but after a moment Kyth was able to find the right balance. He urged the horse on at a walk, focusing on keeping Mai upright and cushioning the movement so that the ride wouldn’t cause any more damage.

  The second horse followed. Kyth had no free hand to lead it by the rope, but the horse seemed intent on keeping up on its own. They rode on, the sun slowly rising from behind the Eastern Mountain Crest, lighting up the wavering grass with the pinks and blues of the early dawn.

  A movement off to the left drew Kyth’s eye. Two riders had emerged from the line of bushes by the river and directed their horses toward him at a gallop.

  Kyth’s mind raced. He had no means to defend himself. He didn’t even have time to lower Mai off the horse so that he could free his hands. And, he couldn’t afford to let go. In Mai’s fragile state, a fall like that might well kill him.

  His eyes darted around, searching for possible help.

  The riders were approaching fast. From this distance he started to make out their features. They looked familiar. He narrowed his eyes, heart pounding in his chest. Could it be?

  The rider in front was middle-aged, with a huge, ugly scar crossing his face. Behind him rode a lean, graceful man whose quality of movement left no doubt he was an unmatched fighter.

  Egey Bashi and Raishan!

  Kyth pulled his horse to a stop, feeling the deadly strain in his exhausted body give way to an overwhelming wave of relief.

  38

  VIPER’S KISS

  Kyth sat on horseback, waiting for his rescuers to approach.

  “Thank Shal Addim!” Egey Bashi exclaimed, pulling his horse to a stop.

  Raishan dismounted and rushed up to Kyth’s horse, eyes fixed on Mai’s lifeless shape.

  “He broke us out,” Kyth said. “But he’s very badly hurt. I think he’s bleeding inside.”

  Raishan’s hand shot up to Mai’s neck to feel the pulse. His eyes locked with the Keeper’s.

  “I believe I have something that might help,” Egey Bashi said, “but it’ll take some time. Why don’t we get back to our camp?”

  Raishan looked back across the Grassland plain. “They might be followed, Magister. If we camp and they catch up with us, I’m not sure I can deal with the Kaddim any better than last time.”

  “If we don’t treat these injuries right away, Aghat Mai will die. It may be too late already, but if you want him to have a chance, there’s no other alternative.”

  Raishan’s frown deepened as he appeared to consider the options.

  “We’ll have to stop anyway,” Egey Bashi pointed out. “If not now then later on. We can’t ride on forever. And from what we’ve seen so far, an entire Cha’ori hort is just as useless against these men as you and I, Aghat.”

  “I think,” Kyth said slowly, “I can protect at least one of you from their power. If I do this, do you think you can handle them, Raishan?”

  “How many are there?” the Majat asked. “Back in the Cha’ori camp I heard different numbers, from fifty to several hundred.”

  “It was about three dozen or so to start with. During our escape Mai took down at least ten, maybe more. He also scared away their horses.”

  Raishan nodded. “Should be manageable. If you’re sure you can really do what you say.”

  “That’s how we broke out,” Kyth said. “Mai did all the fighting, I just kept their power off him.”

  Raishan nodded. His face was grave as he carefully lifted Mai off Kyth’s horse into his own saddle. He rode at a walk, forcing Kyth and Egey Bashi to slow down as they made way to the line of bushes by the river.

  The cozy campsite was surrounded by bushes on three sides and open to the river on the fourth. The dying embers emanated warmth, a kettle and two empty bowls scattered around as if aba
ndoned in a hurry. Matted grass marked the places where Raishan and Egey Bashi must have slept, only a short time before spotting Kyth and Mai down on the plains. The sight made Kyth’s tired muscles ache with desire to lie down and rest. He suppressed it. He had to be awake if the pursuit came. Raishan needed him if they hoped to fend off an attack.

  Raishan spread his cloak and lay Mai on top of it. After a short survey he took off his belt knife and cut away the remaining strips of the ragged shirt. Then he removed the bandage from Mai’s chest, exposing the ugly wound that looked even worse than Kyth remembered on their first day of captivity. Its leaden color suggested that it was beginning to become infected.

  Raishan shook his head as he peeled away the last pieces of pus-soaked cloth. “These men really spared no effort on him, did they?”

  Egey Bashi crouched on the ground next to Raishan, taking a small vial from a pouch at his belt.

  “The internal bleeding is what’s going to kill him first, unless we do something about it,” he said. “This liquid should help, but he needs to drink it. I can’t just pour it down his throat while he’s unconscious.”

  Raishan nodded. He took out a small flask and forced several drops of the substance between Mai’s lips.

  After a long moment Mai coughed and opened his eyes. He looked at the faces bent over him, recognition slowly stirring in his gaze. A streak of blood appeared in the corner of his mouth.

  “Aghat Raishan,” he whispered, his lips twitching into a ghostly smile. “How the hell–”

  “We’ll discuss that later, Aghat. First, Magister Egey Bashi wants you to drink something.”

  “It’s going to hurt,” the Keeper warned.

  Raishan frowned. “From what I know about injuries this looks bad. He’s had a nasty blow to the head and this wound on his chest is about to poison his blood. Are you sure he can take this treatment of yours?”

  “It’s rough, Aghat, I know. But I see no other choice.” Egey Bashi leaned over Mai, holding the vial in his hand.