“You can be our slaves. We will take your women and your eyes, then you shall pay penitence for your crimes until you return to the dirt.”
“The hell we will,” Rafe said angrily.
“You shall soon learn respect,” the Chieftain said.
“Wait,” Tiberius said. “Please, isn’t there another way we can make it up to you?”
“I have coin,” said Lexi hopefully.
“No,” said the Chieftain with a ruthless grin. “I have your gold. I have your weapons. You have nothing but your lives to give.”
“Tiberius,” Rafe said angrily.
“We don’t want trouble,” Tiberius said.
“Take the women,” the Chieftain said. “I shall bless them with my seed. Their children will be true Hoskali.”
“Ti!” Rafe said, his arms straining against the hempen ropes that held them.
“It’ll hurt,” Tiberius said.
“Do it!” Rafe said.
“Ingesco Exsuscito!” Tiberius said softly.
The ropes holding his hands, and those holding Rafe’s, burst into flames. The heat blistered their skin, but one quick pull, an almost involuntary reaction to the pain, burst the ropes. Rafe elbowed the nearest invader; there were only three standing behind the group. From Rafe’s kneeling position, the man’s groin was the closest target. The invader groaned and fell to the ground, as Rafe jumped to his feet. Tiberius raised his hands toward the wagon, and chanted again, louder this time.
“Ingesco Exsuscito!”
There was a feeling of magic pulling toward Tiberius, then the wagon burst into flames. The Chieftain’s eyes grew wide with fear and rage. The big man driving the wagon lurched up and pulled his leader off the wagon to avoid the flames.
Rafe spun around, dodging the club the second guard swung at him. He punched the man in the stomach, then ripped the club free. The third guard was tripped as Lexi rolled back into him. The man fell and Rafe knocked the second guard senseless. Then he kicked the final guard in the side of the head.
The entire tribe was watching the wagon burn; they seemed shocked. Tiberius helped Lexi to her feet and was pulling at the rope that held her hands. Dozens of the tribesmen came rushing toward them.
“There’s too many,” Tiberius said.
“I’d rather die fighting than let them lay a hand on Olyva,” Rafe roared.
Tiberius had expected the tribesmen to attack them, but they ran to the wagon, working franticly to save the horses. They shouted to each other and the horses reared, terrified of the fire.
“Let’s go, let’s go,” Lexi said.
“We don’t have any weapons or supplies,” Tiberius said. “We can’t just leave.”
“We can’t stay,” Rafe said, as he pulled Lady Olyva to her feet.
She seemed oblivious and Tiberius hesitated, afraid that even if they escaped they would just be hunted down. Without weapons or supplies, they wouldn’t survive on the open plains. Before he could make up his mind, the big warrior and the Chieftain appeared in front of them with several tribesmen.
“You challenge me?” the Chieftain said angrily. “You shall have your Tuscogee.”
He clapped his hands and dozen more tribesmen came running and bowed before their chief.
“What’s a Tuscogee?” Lexi asked.
“I have no idea,” Tiberius said.
“You shall fight Ummar,” the Chieftain said. “My champion against yours, wizard. Anyone who challenges my right to rule must face Ummar. The loser dies.”
“Fine, name the time and place,” Rafe said.
“Tonight,” the Chieftain said, then to his tribesmen, “Give them the ullantee. No one may touch them until the Tuscogee.”
The tribesmen rose, and surrounded Tiberius and his friends. They were led to a place apart from the tribe and food was brought. Rafe was still angry, looking for a way to escape. He stalked around the circle of warriors, sizing them up.
“What is this?” Tiberius asked the man who laid a platter of food before him.
“This is the ullantee, the last meal of the condemned,” the tribesman said.
He started to leave but Tiberius stood up.
“Wait,” he said. “What is the Tuscogee?”
“It is a battle for the right to rule the tribe. Anyone who challenges the great chief must fight in the Tuscogee. It is a great honor among the Hoskali.”
“What if we don’t want to fight?” Tiberius said.
“You challenged Moswanee with fire magic. You must fight. But be warned, he knows many dark secrets.”
“Do we get our weapons?” Rafe asked.
The man shook his head.
“So I fight Moswanee?” Tiberius said.
“No, no, your champion fights his champion. It is a Hallinsae, a fight to the death.”
Chapter 34
Rafe
Rafe sat quietly. He ate the food that was brought to him. It was some type of boiled meat in a rich sauce made of berries. There was a flat mealy bread, and long root vegetables that Rafe didn’t recognize. He was offered some form of ale or wine, but he refused it, drinking only water. His father had been challenged to duels, the stories were legendary, at least in Avondale. Rafe had grown up hearing about them. It seemed like Grentz was challenged whenever he went to one of the Nine Cities with the Earl. He always won, but he had a few scars to show for his many victories. Of course duels weren’t fights to death, and what Rafe faced was different.
Tiberius was ignoring his food and asking the tribesmen who served them questions. Rafe ate silently and listened.
“Tell us more about Tuscogee,” he said. “Do your people fight often for leadership of the tribe?”
“Anyone may challenge,” the man said, his eyes never rising to meet Tiberius’. “No one fights Ummar, he is too strong.”
“What weapons are used?” Tiberius asked.
“The sacred Yellist.”
“What is that? A sword? A club?”
“Heavy sword, ancient,” the man replied, looking over at Rafe. “You must be very strong to wield the Yellist.”
“What does Moswanee do during the fight?”
“He works the black arts,” the man said, his voice rising as he spoke. “Moswanee carries the Illepax, the death sticks.”
“The Illepax is a weapon?”
“No, you saw the death sticks. He carries it, and has many trophies hanging on it. It gives him power.”
“Oh, the staff with all the feathers and skulls,” Tiberius said. “That’s the source of his power?”
“Yes,” the man said. “Moswanee is very strong in the dark ways.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that your Chieftain is strong in the dark ways?”
“Each man chooses his path. Some walk by day, others walk by night. The Hoskali have lived free on the flat lands for many generations. It has always been thus.”
“So if Ummar wins, I’ll be killed?” Tiberius asked.
“It is so,” the tribesman asked.
“And what about Lexi and Lady Olyva?” Tiberius asked, indicating the girls sitting near Rafe. “What will happen to them?”
“Short hair will die with you,” the man said. “Long hair is touched by the tree people. She will be replanted. It is a great honor to join the tree people.”
“The tree people?” Tiberius asked. “You know about the trees by the base of the mountain?”
“There are many Hosscum, the creeping trees,” the man explained. “When Hoskali grow old with honor, many choose to live again as Hosscum.”
“You saw that she’s touched,” Tiberius said carefully. “Do you know what will happen to her?”
“She will be returned to the trees,” the man said.
“No, I mean, what if we win the Toscogee?”
The tribesman chuckled.
“You not win. Your champion is too small, too weak.”
“I might surprise you,” Rafe growled.
“If we did win,” Tiberius probed
. “Is it possible that Lady Olyva could be saved from becoming a tree?”
“Why?” the tribesman asked. “It is a very great honor. Not everyone can live forever.”
“But suppose she didn’t want to become a tree, not yet at least. If we kept her away from the Hosscum, would she still become a tree?”
The man just shrugged his shoulders as if to say he didn’t know, and he didn’t care. Tiberius changed the subject.
“Are there other tribes of Hoskali?”
“Of course,” the man said, as if it were a stupid answer.
“And they live out on the plains like you do?”
“Of course.”
“And you fight with each other?”
“Sometimes. We raid for women or food. Captured Hoskali are slaves until they marry.”
“Your tribe is very interesting,” Tiberius said. “I wish we were here under different circumstances.”
The man nodded and left. From where Rafe and the others sat, they could see the tribe working diligently. The women were busy setting up small shelters and building fires. They gathered the dung patties to use as fuel and saw to the animals. The men worked to clear a space of any debris, then they formed a circle.
“I guess that will be the arena,” Rafe said.
“Don’t take this lightly,” Tiberius said. “All our lives hang in the balance.”
“Not Lady Olyva,” he said, grimacing. “She’s becoming a tree.”
Olyva didn’t even look up. As night fell, she was becoming more and more lethargic. The tribesmen lit fires around the edges of the big circle they were forming. The sky grew pink, then purple, before finally fading into darkness.
“Have you ever heard of an Illepax?” Tiberius asked.
“No, but it sounds like a bronze sword. I’ve heard of them.”
“You mean like, really old swords before people knew how to make steel?”
“Yes,” Rafe said.
“So you know how to fight with one?”
“I can fight with any weapon, Ti. It won’t be what I’m used to, but I can do it.”
“Are you scared?”
“Should I be?”
“Of course you should,” Tiberius said. “You’re fighting to the death. This isn’t like sparring or even fighting a duel. You loose, you die. We all die, Rafe.”
“I know that,” he said.
“And the other guy is bigger than you,” Lexi said. “I think maybe it would be better if we made a break for it.”
“No,” Rafe said. “I can handle this.”
“She’s right,” Tiberius said. “He’s bigger and stronger. Those swords are heavier than you’re used to. Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
“You’re the one who said escaping without supplies is suicide,” Rafe argued. “You know they’ll just hunt us down if we run. We don’t have anywhere to go. They took our horses, so we can’t outrun them.”
“I could get our horses back,” Lexi said. “Probably some supplies too.”
“No, I’ll take my chances fighting,” Rafe said.
“This is insane,” Lexi said.
“Look,” Rafe said quietly. “I get it. You know how to get stuff. You know how to survive on your own. You could probably escape from these people and survive a long time out here. But fighting is what I know. I’ve been doing it since I was a child. My father is the Sword Master of Avondale. I’ve trained with every weapon in the Earl’s armory. I can fight on foot, on horseback, from positions of strength and weakness. I know how to turn my enemy’s strengths into weaknesses. I fight with a rapier because it takes much more skill than just hacking and slashing with a traditional sword. I’m an expert at using speed and swordcraft to nullify my opponent’s superior strength, whether it is physical strength, or a heavier weapon than my own. Yes, this Ummar is strong, but I’ll bet he’s slow too. I’ll bet that just his appearance intimidates most of his opponents. He’ll be overconfident, but he’s never fought anyone like me.”
“What about the chief and his dark magic?” Lexi said. “What if he casts some spell on you?”
“That’s Ti’s job,” said Rafe. “Make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Tiberius nodded. He already had his little scroll out and was busy searching through the spells that Princess Ariel had given him. The tribesmen came back and brought a tub of water.
“To wash with, before the toscogee,” they said.
Rafe took off his tunic and washed his face. The water was warm and he splashed it over his body. Tiberius looked worried and Olyva was passed out again. Rafe doubted that anyone could wake her. On the one had, he felt like his life was spinning out of control. On the other hand, he finally felt like he was facing something he was prepared for. His father’s words echoed in his mind as three more tribesmen approached carrying the white body paint in a small crock, and a gleaming sword.
Don’t limit yourself to just one weapon, his father used to say. Everything around you is potentially a weapon. Use whatever you can to end the fight as quickly as possible.
Rafe examined the sword. It was short, only about three feet long, sharp on one side and curved slightly. The blade was golden, with nicks up and down the sharpened side, which ended in a point.
“Looks sort of like a cutlass,” Tiberius said.
Rafe nodded. Then he said, “Paint me up.”
“What? With symbols and stuff like the Hoskali?”
“No, just a thick layer all over my body,” he said.
Tiberius and Lexi took handfuls of the white pasty ocher and began spreading it over his chest, stomach, and back. In his mind, Rafe was already battling the big warrior Ummar. He could imagine the different ways the larger man might attack, so he mentally prepared a defense for each tactic.
Drums began to pound, and voices chanted in a language Rafe didn’t recognize. He chalked it up to part of the ceremony. He’d heard of ancient indigenous tribes that lived off the land. They were warrior cultures with leadership being earned in battle. It made sense that some of the people who survived the cataclysm would have been people who had once lived out in the wild places of the world. And it also seemed reasonable that they would revert to the old ways of living. The tribesmen of the Holsaki looked normal enough. Their skin was a little darker, but Rafe guessed that came from being out in the sun day after day. They shaved their heads, and wore white paint on their bodies, but who’s to say that if they put on proper clothes and washed off the paint that they wouldn’t fit right in among the people of Avondale. They spoke the same language, although with a heavy accent, which Rafe guessed stemmed from being separated from the Nine Cities for so long. In fact, it might have been the people in the cities who developed an accent while the tribal people maybe spoke more like the people of Valana before the cataclysm. Either way, it all pointed back to a common heritage. These people didn’t just suddenly spring up in the void left after everyone else fled the blighted lands.
He picked up the sword. It was heavy, but there was a balance to it as well. It was forged by someone who knew what they were doing. Rafe swung the sword in the traditional four step pattern that every novice swordsman learned. Grentz had trained his son so hard that Rafe knew the pattern by heart, his muscles carrying it out without any input from his mind. Swipe, parry, block, and thrust. Rafe repeated the pattern over and over, letting his body get used to the weight of the blade. He moved his feet, stepping forward and back, first in the complicated stance he used with his rapier, then making some adjustments to make the most efficient use of the heavy bronze sword.
The only thing he couldn’t anticipate was the effect of his opponent’s strength. The big warrior would rain down heavy blows, and even using what he knew about angles to deflect his opponent’s sword strikes to minimize the impact and thus the strength it took to parry the attack, he knew that fighting the bigger man would be difficult. Rafe decided that speed would be his greatest asset. He took the sword in two hands, one on the grip, which was made of bone wra
pped in leather, the other hand he held on the blunted edge of the blade, just where the curving was thickest. If he moved fast enough, he could dodge most of the bigger man’s attacks, which would maximize Rafe’s strength. He decided it would be best to keep moving, let the bigger man wear himself down chasing Rafe, then, when the bigger man was winded, Rafe would move in for the attack.
“It is time,” said a tribesman.
Rafe glanced at Tiberius and nodded. His friend gave him a thumbs up and followed him toward the circle of warriors, who were jumping and shouting in excitement.
Chapter 35
Tiberius
Lexi slipped her hand into his as they followed Rafe toward the arena. Tiberius felt a ball forming in his gut. He was terrified for his friend and frightened of what would happen to himself and Lexi if Rafe lost. He felt weak. He’d gone through the list of spells over and over: Fire, Far Sight, Find North, Find Water, Calm Minds, Hiding Spell, Shielding Spell, Summon Wind, Sleep Spell. Only two of the spells seemed useful during a fight, and Tiberius really had no idea how they would work. He had memorized the spells for Hiding, which he hoped meant a spell that would make Rafe invisible to Ummar, and Shielding. Still, he feared what might happen during the duel. The large warrior who was Moswanee’s champion was enough of a threat, but if the Chieftain used magic to tip the odds in his favor, Tiberius feared he wouldn’t have the knowledge or skill to keep Rafe safe.
“Are you afraid?” Lexi whispered.
“Terrified,” Tiberius said. “I don’t know enough to really help him.”
“You can do it,” she said. “I believe in you.”
Tiberius squeezed her hand, unable to say how much he needed to hear her say that.
“I’d feel better if you disappeared until this was all over,” he said.
“What about Olyva?”
“I don’t think she’s in any real danger at the moment. Just make yourself scarce, just in case.”
“Are you sure? I could stay, maybe help?”
“No, I’d feel better knowing you were somewhere else.”
She brushed her lips across his cheek, then she let go of his hand. It was more painful than he expected. The tribesmen paid her no attention. When Tiberius glanced back, she was gone. The camp was lit by fires here and there, but the darkness encroached all around. Tiberius didn’t think it would be hard for Lexi to disappear in the dark, especially with everyone occupied by the Tuscogee.
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