⇤First ←Prev Archive Next→ Latest⇥
Part 23: THE DUEL
Wilde awoke that evening, sometime during the feasting, but she did not leave the room until she had Cad’s blessing the next morning. When she first arose he brought her to an adjoining room, where Maira and Cynan were sparring.
Their swords rang as they fought, Cynan standing defensive. He parried Maira’s blows and they broke, returning to the centre of the room.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘You’re moving well on that leg – keep up the pressure when I block, force a mistake from me.’
‘You should be resting that leg more, Captain,’ Cad said. ‘Take a break for now – welcome Wilde back to the land of the living.’
Wilde waved at Maira, one hand still clutching Cad’s shoulder. She was still limping and she looked exhausted, but she smiled at Maira and looked about her, alert. Maira grinned back.
‘Glad you made it, kid,’ she said. ‘How are you feeling?’ She sheathed her sword and gestured at Wilde to follow, moving to a threadbare chaise; Cad helped her to the seat and supported her as she lowered down to sit.
‘Everything still hurts,’ she said. ‘But I don’t feel sick and I can move again.’
‘That’s something. How are you feeling about travelling?’ Maira asked. ‘We’ll have Cad with us to make sure you’re healing up, he’s joining on as our ship’s doctor.’
‘I…’ Wilde hesitated. ‘I need a little more time,’ she said eventually. ‘Not to heal, but… to get used to the idea of travelling for the next few weeks. I’ll be okay,’ she added, looking at their confused faces. ‘It just takes me some time to adapt to a new idea, is all.’
‘Alright,’ Maira said. ‘We’ll take our time. I’m sure we can spare a couple of days.’ She turned to Cad, noting the grim cast of his features; but it was Cynan who filled the gap in conversation.
‘And you need time to discuss contracts with the fortress,’ he said. ‘I understand House Bounder has been monopolising your time this past day; they will introduce you to some of the other houses today, let you talk business.’ His eyes flickered to Cad at this last part; the erstwhile patriarch nodded and masked his worry with a smile.
‘Of course,’ Cad said. ‘Captain, allow my family to give you the tour of the fort – Isabella will show you around, with plenty of stops to rest.’
‘Thank you, Cad,’ Maira said. She rose to leave.
As if on cue a horn sounded about the fortress, a long, low sound that rumbled throughout the walls. Maira paused; Cad and Cynan shared a look.
‘That’s the gathering horn,’ Cad said weakly. ‘You should come with us, make your way down to the feast hall. Bring your crew.’
‘Why are they gathering?’ Maira asked, urgency in her voice.
‘At a guess,’ Cad said, ‘to inflict some vile punishment upon my house before we can leave. Come; we must go at once.’
Theresa and Maria led the family down to the feast hall, Maira and her crew hidden in the middle of the pack. At the sound of the horn the whole family had enacted a plan formed entirely unspoken, gathering the humans and ensuring they were prepared to leave.
Vaalhest was arranged around this central room, the long feast hall with its many windows. At the dais Jasik sat on the throne, hair red and wild, teeth bared in a rictus of fury. Her family surrounded her but their stares were directed inward, at one another; and Cad noted with some satisfaction that certain groups were standing apart.
House Defender had assembled quickly, their reduced numbers taking up a third of their table. Shields-Upon-The-Wall and House Eyes-To-The-Soul occupied two inner tables, showing their favour with the Earl. But the central table was clear, and it was draped in House Bounder’s colours.
Maria and Theresa did not hesitate, heading straight down the aisle and taking their seats at the head of the table; Cad saw Jasik pale at that, if anything more confused and enraged than before. But that was nothing compared to her reaction to Cynan, who took his seat below Theresa. She pointed and screeched like a harpy.
‘You would let a Fated prisoner wander loose in these halls and sit at the head of your table?’ she cried. ‘Why is he not locked up?’
Cad glanced at House Shields-Upon-The-Wall, where a young, stoic soldier took to his feet and saluted.
‘Your Majesty,’ he said, his face a mask. ‘Sverre of Shields-Upon-The-Wall; this was a delicate situation, his having just arrived on a ship bearing honoured guests of another house. He has been under house arrest among his extended family, as his branch has no relations here.’
‘And yet they let him sit at the head of the table,’ Jasik hissed, finger jabbing towards Cynan. ‘And they let him wander these halls with a sword!’
Cynan looked down and chuckled, as though only just now noticing it. He stood and bowed low.
‘A blunt-edged training blade, your majesty,’ he replied. He drew it, resting the blade in the palms of his hands. ‘I promised my captain a sparring session before I died, if there were time.’
‘I note that you have not yet died,’ Jasik sneered. ‘Why has the Fated not been killed already?’ Sverre saluted again. Cad noted the set of his jaw and the laziness of his arm – a calculated disrespect.
‘Forgive us, your Majesty,’ he said. ‘It requires three spears, and only two houses have offered theirs.’
That set the hall to muttering. Lance leaned over to Cad; he had sat in the centre of the humans, Wilde and Maira to his right, Lance and Ham to his left.
‘What are they talking about?’ he asked. ‘What spears? What’s Fated?’
‘A Fated is one who will die if they return to the Dimmerlands,’ Cad murmured. ‘They are an outcast and a criminal. To kill one requires the assent of three houses within the homeland; they show their assent by giving a weapon, their spear. Those are then used to kill the fated.’
‘So why can’t they get the spears here?’ Lance hissed. Cad smiled darkly.
‘They will have House Shields’ and House Authority’s – that’s Sverre’s house and Jasik’s house. At a guess: Defender recently tried to overthrow the Earl, so they’re none too keen to help her kill a Fated; House Eyes are objecting because of some disagreements with house Shields; and House Bounder always renounces their spear, as they renounce all violence.’
Indeed, Jasik was raging against this very thing right now.
‘Two houses!’ she yelled. ‘Two houses who refuse to lend their spears over petty politics! And one who renounces all violence – I should revoke your spear, House Bounder!’ She looked set to continue her tirade, but a member of her family stepped forward and whispered in her ear. ‘What?’ she barked. Then she rolled her eyes and snapped, ‘Fine! Serve the food, let us dine together – see that House Supreme Authority keeps a cordial, brotherly court!’
Wilde watched with trepidation as servers appeared from behind the dais, bearing enormous earthenware bowls on their shoulders. It took two servers apiece to carry these bowls, one on either side, and as they walked down the aisle they knelt at every other step, allowing a third server behind to dish out slices of raw meat on a long, broad messer. The cannibals took from these blades and dropped the meat into their mouths, silent and solemn.
Cad’s face had become a rictus and so had Maira’s. Wilde looked between the two of them.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘It’s a loyalty ritual,’ Maira hissed. ‘We’ll be asked to eat it – take a piece and eat, try not to think about it.’
‘It looks slimy,’ Wilde whispered. She made a face, wrinkling her nose as the bowl-bearers approached. ‘…I might throw up,’ she added. ‘If I have to eat that.’
‘Then skip it,’ Cad muttered. ‘If anyone asks, I’ll claim medical exemption.’
The bowl approached. The knife stabbed the air between Lance and Ham – they stared at it, and each took a piece hesitantly. Lance took a breath and swallowed it down, passing off a wave of nausea as a cough. Ham chewed his well, grimacing, and swallowed it after a long minute.
The knife went between Cad and Wilde. Cad took his and swallowed it, face passively neutral.
‘Um,’ Wilde said. ‘Um… No, thank you?’ She glanced at the server’s face – he looked nervous, the sword began to waver.
Maira’s arm reached across and she plucked two slices from the blade.
‘She’s my charge,’ she said. ‘I eat in her stead.’
Wilde could see the relief on the server’s face. But that was brought to sharp heel by a cry from the Earl.
‘Who is this whelp who will not eat at my table?’ she snapped. Cad stood at once, not bothering to bow.
‘She is a guest of my house and my patient!’ he snapped. ‘She is in recovery, and should not be having unfamiliar food at this time.’
Wilde felt countless eyes upon her and wished she could sink under the table. But Jasik’s eyes were fixed on Cad, and she grinned triumphantly.
‘She is a disobedient flat-tooth!’ she cried. ‘I demand satisfaction!’
‘She’s a child!’ Cad objected, but some of House Supreme Authority had come to the fore and were now chanting it. ‘Satisfaction! Satisfaction!’ Soon the room would pick up it.
Maira rolled her eyes.
‘Cad, is the Earl challenging Wilde to a duel?’ she asked. Cad glanced back and nodded, and Maira stood. She planted one foot on the bench and strode up onto the table.
‘I volunteer as her second,’ she announced. ‘She’s a passenger under my charge – any quarrel with her shall answer to me.’
The Earl slammed the butt of her spear upon the ground and stood.
‘I demand satisfaction from her, and her alone!’ she roared back. ‘You have no power to interfere here!’ Maira scoffed.
‘As a human on board my ship, and bound for human lands, she is under my charge,’ she replied. ‘Even here, your Majesty – after all, who are you to interfere in human affairs?’
The Earl made an animal sound in the back of her throat, and was only stopped from charging forwards by two of her own house who grabbed her around the shoulders and arms. Cad rose to stand beside Maira.
‘Name your terms, Majesty!’ he called. ‘Your satisfaction shall be answered by Wilde’s champion.’
‘We fight,’ the Earl said simply. ‘Right here; right now!’ She shook herself free and descended the dais, pulling herself up onto the table.
‘Her Majesty has named the place and time,’ Cad said to the room at large. ‘Maira, the rules and weapons are yours.’
Maira leaned towards him.
‘What do you suggest?’ she murmured.
‘Weapons are yours to choose,’ Cad whispered back. ‘For rules: to the death, first blood, or to score.’ Maira sighed and smoothed back her hair.
‘We fight to first blood,’ she announced. ‘With only the weapons we have on us now.’
‘Your sword against her spear?’ Cad whispered urgently. ‘Captain, I don’t think-‘
‘Quiet!’ Maira hissed. Cad backed down; aloud, she said, ‘is that to your satisfaction, your Majesty?’
Earl Jasik grinned in anticipation.
‘It will be,’ she said. ‘When I plunge this spear through your heart!’
At once the four houses left their benches and crowded around those of House Bounder, their bright eyes staring between Maira and the Earl. Maira drew her sword and twirled it, setting her foot forward in a duelling stance.
‘Maira!’
She glanced down; Cad stared up at her.
‘Be careful,’ he said. Maira nodded, turning her attention to Jasik.
The fight began.
Jasik wielded an enormous golden spear, taller than her own height by half, but she wielded it as though it were as light as a feather. She jabbed it towards Maira, at centre mass, once, twice, thrice; and each time, Maira turned the blow aside with her sword. She backed up in the face of the Earl’s onslaught as Jasik rained down blows quickly and heavily, swinging the spear in a wide arc to maintain distance.
Maira, for her part, gritted her teeth and concentrated on defence. She ducked a spear thrust aimed at her chin and bound her blade against the haft, driving it back and up, searching for an opening.
‘Not so fast!’ Jasik hissed; she let go of the spear with one hand and drove upwards with her claws. Maira danced back, and then back further as the spear head whipped around in a wide circle.
‘You’re good with that sword,’ Jasik acknowledged. ‘But you’re weaker and slower than I am – you can’t hope to win!’
‘We’ll see,’ was all Maira said in reply. Privately, though, she felt the knot tightening in her stomach. She was skilled, it was true – she knew her swordsmanship better than most aircrew these days – but this was a life-or-death fight against someone who had used that spear to kill many a Cannibal. She glanced down, and her eyes caught Cynan in the corner, staring at her; he grinned at her and winked.
Keep up the pressure. Right.
Jasik came in for another attack; Maira glanced up just in time to parry the blow, taking a wide step out with her back foot as the weight of the impact sent her off-balance. Her toes found the edge of the table… and slipped off.
Maira felt the lurch of sudden, empty space where she was trying to put her weight.
Jasik smiled a catlike grin, her pupils growing wide and dark.
‘All too easy,’ she announced. She swung her spear down like an axe, the star-shaped crossguard aiming for Maira’s chest.
The sky is fickle. You never know when it’s going to drop you a thousand feet or send you into the eddies of dead air. To keep people safe, aircrews are trained to deal with sudden changes in gravity and to respond to any drops or turbulence almost instinctively.
Maira reacted on instinct. She lunged forward, gathering what weight she could over her solid foot, and let it collapse, turning the sideways fall into a forward roll.
The crossguard buried itself deep into the woodwork, so deep it stuck.
Maira moved fast, taking advantage of this sudden inertia. She dragged her sword along the length of the spear haft, throwing up sparks and forcing Jasik to let go or lose her fingers; the Earl hissed and drew back, dropping into a defensive stance, claws bared.
Don’t give an inch! Maira thought desperately to herself, lunging with her sword to gain some space and reaching into her jacket.
‘Die!’ Jasik snarled, throwing a desperate claw forward. Maira stepped aside to dodge it and pulled her pepperbox pistol from her jacket, pointing it at the Earl’s face.
‘No; you.’ Jasik froze.
Maira shifted her aim and pulled the trigger.
Jasik grunted as five pellets buried themselves in her shoulder, red blossoming through her tunic. She fell back against the table and was borne off by members of her own clan, who took her to the steps of the dais.
There was an uncertain beat.
Then the room erupted into cheers.
Maira collapsed to her knees on the table and Cad helped her to a seat, where she was mobbed by proud Bounder clan members and other houses alike. She sighed and sheathed her sword, waving everyone away.
‘Well done!’ Cad murmured.
But all was not finished. A commotion at the dais: Jasik stood, pointing a finger at Maira.
‘Guards!’ she yelled. ‘Seize her! She broke the rules of our duel!’
Maira’s party was surrounded by House Shields-Upon-The-Wall, all of them staring her down with intense, glowing eyes.
‘Cheated?’ Maira cried. ‘How did I cheat?’
‘You pulled a gun!’ Jasik announced. ‘The rules were clear: it was your sword against my spear!’ Maira stared at her, nonplussed. Then she leaned back and laughed.
‘You dare!’ Jasik cried, leaping forwards, and it took half of her family to pull her back and keep her at bay.
‘Cad,’ Maira said. ‘Would you please remind Her Majesty of the terms I set at the beginning of the duel?’
Understanding dawned. Cad grinned as he stood, straightening his tie.
‘I believe the words you used,’ he said, ‘were: “first blood, with the weapons we have on us now.” Is that about right?’ Maira nodded; Sverre of House Shields turned to Jasik, a hungry look in his eyes.
‘Those were the terms she set, Your Majesty,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid, by Dimmer Law, she has broken no rule.’
‘She cheated,’ Jasik argued, ‘by concealing a weapon about her person in the first place! Those terms were not fair!’
‘You could always have asked, Your Majesty,’ Cad said, ever the picture of reason. There were some sniggers throughout the crowd, which rippled out to House Supreme Authority and caused Jasik to struggle against her restraining family with renewed vigour.
‘I note,’ Sverre added, ‘that you did not hesitate to resort to your claws when she bested your spear. By your interpretation, did you not break the rules when you first slashed at her?’
‘Bah!’ Jasik sniffed. ‘A Cannibal’s claws are a natural extension of the Cannibal; it’s different to a sword. Or a gun! Seize her!’
‘I think,’ Cad said quietly to Maira, ‘that discretion in this instant is the better part of valour.’
‘I agree,’ Maira sighed. ‘Besides, I’m too tired to get into another fight right now. Alright, we surrender; take us in, Sverre of House Shields.’
‘Congratulations,’ Sverre said, as he clapped a pair of chains on Maira’s wrists, ‘on your victory.’