“Thanks,” I said, faintly.
“You are a great fighter, Lise,” said Jason, kissing me briefly on the lips. “You just take care of these payasos and then it’s all over and we can go back home. No need to be nervous.”
Though I know he meant well, that didn’t help me. Who wouldn’t be nervous when the results of a war rested on their shoulders?
Auraus came in for a hug. “I have faith in you, as does Caelestis,” she said softly.
Ragar patted me on the shoulder, but it was Dusk who, in coming to give me a warrior’s grip, also gave me his pep-me-up wineskin.
“Drink it,” he said, eyeing me.
I yawned immediately in response. Once again I’d almost been caught out by over-extending myself. I hadn’t gotten to eat or drink anything since, since-well, I couldn’t remember since when. I took a couple of sips, but Dusk indicated that I should drink what was left by making a “bottoms-up” motion with his hand.
“Are you sure about that, Dusk?” said Jason with some anxiety. “I remember what she looked like after doing that the first time.”
“She does not have much of a choice,” Dusk replied quietly. “She has been going at a fast pace for far too long, and she needs this especially now. I can see it in her eyes.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. That I will see this pep-me-up stuff in her eyes,” Jason argued. “Last time she drank that much of it, the blue in her irises almost went completely away!”
I knew Jason was probably right, but Dusk was more right. I was tired, now that it had been pointed out to me. And this stuff would help see me through the battle. While they were arguing, I upended the wineskin and drank all of its contents. Like before, the caffeine fireball sensation of too much pep potion exploded along my veins, waking me right up.
“Is that a magical drink?” a councilor from across the room demanded.
“No,” Auraus called back truthfully. “It is simply made from a variety of herbs that grow on the surface. There is no magic in it.”
“Dusk is right, Jason,” I said perhaps a little too fast as I passed the empty skin back to the amber-eyed Surface-elf and kissed Jason quickly on the lips. “Let’s get this show on the road before the stuff wears off!”
I jumped up to the table top at my end, and the female councilor, wearing for armor only a beautiful plated armored chest piece, leaped elegantly up to the surface of the table at her end. She took a moment to take out a dagger and slash away at the skirts of her expensive-looking grey robe to make it more battle-friendly before sheathing the weapon again.
“Every being, please take a seat along the wall,” High Priest Canalis said pleasantly.
The new Head councilor scowled at being preempted, but Canalis merely sat down among my friends at my end of the room. The councilors took the seats at the other end, leaving the warriors to stand.
“I am Councilor Megran Dool,” my opponent said to me from across the way, giving me a nod of acknowledgement.
“I am Champion Lise Baxter,” I said, echoing her introduction style.
“Arm yourselves,” said Calx.
Wow, Heather was right. It is kinda like a fencing match. Wait, is it? We haven’t really talked about it yet! I panicked, drawing out my goddess-given saber with its wing-shaped bell handle while Dool unsheathed a decorative longsword of bronze from an equally decorated sheath.
“This Intercession will decide whether hostilities between those who support the new order and the old order will cease as quickly as it can be arranged, or if the hostilities will continue until there is a clear winner through war,” the Head councilor stated clearly. “Whomever is the winner here determines the outcome.”
Okay, good. He’s talking. Now we’re getting somewhere. My panic receded a little.
I looked at Dool. She seemed calm and expectant, like a warrior who knew what she was doing. I, on the other hand, probably didn’t look like much of a threat to her since I was shorter and younger; plus I was sure she could see me vibrating in place now because there was so much energy running through me.
“This Intercession will be to the death,” Calx continued.
My mouth dropped open, and I whipped my head around to stare at him. I hadn’t been expecting that, either!
“No way!” Jason said loudly, shooting to his feet from his chair. “No death matches! Or, if you are going to insist on a death match no matter what, then let me do it instead!”
A storm of voices broke out on both sides, both agreeing with and protesting against the type of Intercession assigned.
“Sit down, Jason!” said Dusk, standing up and pushing hard down on Jason’s shoulder.
Jason sat down more from surprise than anything else, if I interpreted the look on his face right.
“Quiet!” Dusk shouted into the noise, but no one listened.
Out of the blue a loud and sharp whistle, like someone might make when trying to hail a New York taxi cab, pierced the room. Everyone fell quiet. Heather, a smug look on her face, lowered from her mouth the fingers with which she’d used to make the sound.
Dusk rounded on the Head councilor. “Why do you say a death match? We have not agreed to these terms! What about first blood?!”
“The Conductivus, or High Priest as he now styles himself, is asking that every Under-elf change what they have believed in since the formation of Under-elven society,” Calx replied in a reasonable-sounding tone. “We, on the other hand, are fighting to keep the very basis of Under-elven society intact. Just because there is now some sort of Under-elven deity does not mean that she automatically gets to rule over us, or whatever it is that a goddess does.”
“Even though she was your Conductivus before this happened?” Ragar called out.
Heather smacked him on his furry arm for interrupting, but Dusk leaned forward as if very interested in hearing the reply.
“Errr, yes. Even so. Do the gods of the Surface rule everyone up there together?” Calx said defensively.
Dusk, Auraus, and Ragar exchanged glances and then shook their heads with reluctance.
The Head councilor said smugly, “Now that she who used to be our Conductivus is something-other-it is this otherness that needs to be addressed by Under-elven tradition: the Intercession. But to have this Intercession, which is to see the outcome of the change of Under-elven society, go only to first blood is ridiculous. The weightier the outcome, the more dangerous the stakes are. That is standard. And this decision is of the weightiest. But by all means, let us ask the Champion.”
He and everyone looked at me, making me jitter even more where I stood on the sturdy wooden table.
“Are you willing to defend to the death the belief that Alveo and the Divine are the right path that Under-elven society should follow?” Calx asked.
I sighed internally. When he put it that way… I took a deep breath and then released it, imagining the nervousness his words had caused floating away on my exhale like dirty grey smoke.
“Yes, I am,” I said.
Chapter 43
Over the sounds of Jason, Ragar, Auraus, Heather, and Dusk reacting to my statement, the Chirasnivian Head councilor nodded to me. He then turned to my friends and said pointedly, “I trust there will be no further interruptions?”
They quieted down, but I didn’t turn and look at them. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to see what everyone was thinking showing on their faces. It wouldn’t’ve mattered what they thought anyway because I’d already accepted the commission. If my companions didn’t support that, I didn’t want to know.
“For Champion Lise’s benefit: the length and width of the table is the area in which the Intercession must remain. She who falls off, or slips off, or has two feet or two hands touch the floor either simultaneously or one after the other, forfeits both the discussion and her life. A partial slip, where one foot or hand touches the floor, is permitted as long as she gets herself back up immediately. You may act in whatever manner you see fit. Nothing is barred.”
>
I silently gulped. That meant Dool could use poison if she wanted to.
Calx turned and glared at the people behind me. “No outside interference is allowed—whether by vocal warning, weapon assistance, or magic. If such is found to be used by either side, the discussion is over and the one who was helped automatically forfeits.”
He turned back to us on the table’s surface. “Give verbal assent that you understand these rules, combatants,” he said.
“Yes,” she and I replied simultaneously.
“Watchers, I require your verbal assent as well.”
Sounds of agreement came from both ends of the room.
“Ready?” Calx asked Dool and me.
She and I nodded, raised our weapons defensively, and went to the balls of our feet.
“Begin.”
Neither my opponent nor I moved right away, but I knew one of us would have to make the first move eventually. The piste-errr, table–was the width of one of the narrower conference room types, which was broader than the six foot wide mats I’d been fencing on for the last couple of years, though not by much. There was room to duck by each other, perhaps, but certainly no room to circle around in and not much room for error. I started to sweat, and the saber in my hand shook a little.
“Afraid?” taunted Dool. “Let me relieve you of that feeling, then!”
Dool dashed across the table towards me, sword leading the way, and my years of fencing coupled with my intensive fighter’s training in the last couple of months kicked in. I didn’t take her attack seriously because I could tell it was a bluff; no experienced sword fighter would lead a charge like that. I had no room to backpedal since I was already at the end of my side, so I darted forward and ducked under her sword to slide by her to my right instead of rushing that way immediately. My opponent brought her sword down hard on my left shoulder blade as I got around her. It hurt, but the double layer of Under-elven armor and my Champion’s chainmail, a long ago courtesy of Caelestis, held. I scrambled beyond her and then we both turned to face one another again, though this time I was the one who had more room to maneuver in. Belatedly I thought, Man, I should’ve hip-checked her or something as I passed by her. Gotta remember to do something like that the next time we’re in close.
We moved at the same time towards each other and spent the next couple of minutes attacking and blocking, more testing each other out rather than all-in fighting, then we both sprang back. I found that Dool was good, but she was cautious. There has to be a way to play that to my advantage, I thought, sizing her up. We each breathed a little heavier now, and I noticed with an uplift to my spirits that my opponent eyed me a little more respectfully. I took the initiative next. I turned sideways in a classic fencing posture, and presented my sword the way my instructor, Mr. Bronson, had taught me. The look on Dool’s face was confused at the way I stood, as I was sure she’d never seen anybody fence before, and I took advantage of her confusion by lunging forward to catch her in the arm with my saber’s tip and then just as quickly withdrawing.
“First blood,” said the Head Councilor tensely.
I startled a little. I had narrowed my focus so much on the fight I’d kinda blocked out everything around me. Dool took advantage of my startle and bullrushed me. Surprised out of my stance, I dodged the sword trying to spear my guts; but I couldn’t dodge her, too, and she slammed into me and pushed me back several steps. I dropped straight down and threw myself at her feet trying to knock her over, but she leapt gracefully over me. I got swiftly up to my knees to face her, sword at the ready. Dool didn’t take advantage of my lowered position so I bounced to my feet and bullrushed her back. She deflected my sword as expected and I slammed into her, knocking her backwards towards the side of the table, but not before I felt a pointed pressure at my stomach. I hopped backwards to discover a hole in the Under-elven armor and a dagger in my opponent’s other hand. Once again my Goddess-given chainmail had saved me.
Damn, I forgot about that knife! I thought with concern to myself. I gotta watch that.
My opponent sweated a little at seeing how close to the edge I’d taken her, and I knew it would be hard to do that maneuver again. She then attacked in a more standard way, two weapons to my one, and started wearing me down as we went back and forth across the table’s surface by slowly carving my Under-elven armor and my chainmail to pieces. I may have drawn first blood, but Dool started drawing more than me because she now was twice as armed as I was. I grew far bloodier from the slices she gave me than she did from the wounds I managed to give her. I had to grip my saber with two hands at one point to prevent me from dropping it, because the blood dripping down my arms to my hands made the handle more slippery. Fortunately for me the effort of wielding two weapons was tiring for her, too.
The table carvings became more defined as our mingled blood and sweat started filling in the whorls and curls under our feet, but all too soon I felt the buzz of over caffeination fading away. I swiped at my eyes to clear them as I adjusted my footing, and just like that, my feet slipped. I sat down sharply and found out the hard way how close to the edge of the table I’d recently been driven when my left foot swung down and dangled in the air above the floor. I only sat there for a few seconds, stunned, but it was enough time for Dool to drop her sword and retrieve her dagger sheath. She opened a secret compartment in it to reveal a purple paste. She jabbed the dagger’s tip into the goo and then lunged for me, an evil smile on her face.
Bascom’s pain stuff? I wondered, but quickly discounted that thought. No, poison. It has to be poison!
Scared, I rolled diagonally back and up away from where I’d been, scrambling with little coordination to my feet. Dool gracefully turned to follow me, or would have if she hadn’t skidded on the same patch of blood that had brought me down. I didn’t even stop to think—I threw myself at her while she was recovering and took both her and me off the table, dropping my sword in the process and with me landing completely on top of her on the floor. The dagger went flying out of her hand as she hit flat on the carpet, the breath whooshing out of her from my knee in her stomach. I was so glad that Dool’d been knocked breathless and unable to fight as I lay on top of her and panted from exertion. I looked at her face, and felt some satisfaction at seeing her amber eyes staring at me in astonishment as she tried to get air back into her lungs.
“Lise!” I heard Jason’s voice say despairingly somewhere behind me.
His voice reminded me of the discussion rules. I carefully stood up on Dool’s body and then launched myself back to the table top to land there on my hands and knees, all without touching the floor. The councilor gave out a sharp groan of pain from my leap behind me, and then an outbreak of yelling such as I had never heard before broke out from all around the room. The people supporting me were yelling that I had won, while the Under-elves against me were shouting back that I had forced a forfeit, that I had been given vocal help, that both combatants were disqualified and should be put to death, and that a new Intercession should begin.
I got to my feet and stood shakily on the table top, blinking towards the other end of the room that refused to stay in focus, and tried to make sense of it all. Hadn’t I just won by their rules? I was pretty sure I hadn’t touched the floor. But just then the herbal potion in my veins ran out; and that, combined with my blood loss from the fight, made me collapse to the table and into oblivion.
Chapter 44
Once again I woke up in a large, soft bed. It looked like another medieval New York hotel sort of room like the one I’d woken up back in Kelsavax, but differently styled in black and about four kinds of purple. As usual, the only exception to the color décor chosen was the white air moss and luminescent lichen mix growing decoratively on the ceiling.
“Hey, chica, you awake now?” Jason’s voice asked.
I turned my head and saw him sitting in a padded black chair beside me.
“My eyes are open, aren’t they?” I teased him a little, surprised to hear how m
y voice cracked in my reply. I cleared my throat.
He frowned, then helped me to sit up, plumped some purple pillows up behind me, and then took off the cover of a tan colored ceramic cup and gave it to me. “You’ve been talking in your sleep, so I wanted to make sure.”
“Really? What did I say?” I asked, sipping at the clear, warm, mushroomy broth inside. It definitely soothed my insides all the way down to my stomach.
He waved the question away. “Nothing important. Just bits and snatches from conversations you seemed to be having in your dreams.”
“Huh. I wonder if I’ve slept-talked before or if this is new?”
“After all we’ve been through the last while, would it be so surprising if it was new?” he replied, smiling.
That reminded me forcefully of what I had been doing before I blacked out. I handed him back the cup and peeked under the neckline of the long, thin black shift that was presently serving me as a nightdress. I looked clean, whole, and unscarred. “So, how long have I been out?”
“Long enough,” Jason sighed. “And by that, I mean I have no idea. I can’t tell time down here from the lichen stuff that these loco Under-elves use. But I’ve been here at least twice. Everybody in our party has been sitting here in shifts so that you wouldn’t wake up alone.”
My heart melted from gratitude at the thoughtfulness of my friends, and I smiled. “Thanks for that,” I said, leaning over to give him a peck on the cheek.
He turned his head at the last minute so that we kissed instead, turning it into a longer one than I had planned. I didn’t mind.
“But really,” I said when the kiss was over, “What has been happening?”
Jason said, “After much yelling and much dissection of the words of the rules as they had been laid out for the fight, and of the rules for similar ‘discussions’ in the past, High Priest Canalis was judged the winner.”
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