Blades Falling Softly, page 3
part #1 of The Brightest Shadow Series
"That's the wrong question." She came over to stand beside him, staring at the closed door. "They don't need strength for this, they need you. That means they're using us. It might be true that they can't afford a war right now, but how far do you think they'd go for peace? Not this far. I don't like that we don't know what they want."
"Neither do I, but..." Canumon reached around her waist again, this time just lashing the two of them together. "Does that mean we're considering this?"
"I don't think we have a choice."
Anyinn
The bluff loomed at the northern end of the Taynol Valley, a gargantuan tortoise fallen asleep amid the fertile hills. Over the course of her life, Anyinn had fought rites there three different times, losing as an adolescent but winning both rites as clan representative. Despite the tension, all three duels had been surprisingly peaceful, a sober contest of skills to resolve a conflict.
As soon as her escort brought her within sight, she knew that this time would not be so simple.
One of the vast stones at the base of the bluff lay sundered, a body lying in the newborn crevice. Anyinn could see the blood staining the man's combat robes, but he had sold his life dearly: two bodies crumpled nearby. Above them, she saw several fighters exchanging stances on the path upward and two more atop the bluff.
"This isn't..." The young woman who had escorted her stared in shock, eyes struggling to follow the rapid movements. "The rites were meant to start at noon... how can they have...?"
"You've fulfilled your duties by bringing me here." Anyinn gave the escort an encouraging smile and gestured back to their path. "Return and tell them that someone has disrupted the rites, and we must determine who before we leap to conclusions."
Thankfully, the young woman kept her head and hurried back. The primary goal was to take her away from the danger, but if she was able to bring reinforcements with order on their minds instead of revenge, that would be better. Anyinn drew her sword but held it at her side as she approached, resolved to understand the conflict before she struck.
The dead man was indeed Nolese, his hair a familiar blond-black, but the bodies around him seized her attention. They could only be mansthein: their skin was a mottled orange she had never seen in humans, the blankly staring eyes were crimson, and their hands ended in short claws. She could have overlooked accidents of coloration, but she found herself fixating on the sides of their heads: instead of ears, they had only protruding ridges of bone. It was easy to imagine how young warriors could mistake them for legendary Deathspawn.
But these fallen corpses looked like nothing but casualties to her. Perhaps they had betrayed the terms of the rite, but they might also be victims. As Anyinn gathered her sein to prepare to leap, she let her eyes slide over the bluff to find the point where she could be of the most use.
And the first thing she saw was another Deathspawn, crouched like an animal with his teeth dripping blood. He had struck down a Nolese warrior and apparently torn into his neck. Despite her desire for restraint, Anyinn felt a surging impulse to strike him down before he could savage anyone else.
She floated to their position on her own memories and saw the mansthein turn toward her in alarm. His rising fist was far too slow, sliding through the air so lazily that she had time to check her impulse to run him through and instead gather a blade of pure sein.
When the Tranquil Blade struck him he had no defense and slumped to the ground, overwhelmed by the serenity of her sein, but Anyinn was struck by the uncontrolled explosion from his soul. His sein was a flood of his most recent memories, fragments of a desperate battle with the man fallen beside him. She felt an echo of the intense pain in her arm and the desperation that led her to sink her teeth into her opponent's neck.
Anyinn wavered, her tongue tasting blood even though her mouth was clear. She was in no danger, her opponent thoroughly stilled, but she was no longer certain what to do. Even if he was more than a savage beast, his hatred and intent to kill had been clear as well. Looking down, she realized that his opponent still lived, gripping his neck to limit the blood loss.
Before she could decide, she heard a terrible crack of stone meeting bodies that were yet more durable. When she looked toward the source, she saw that the duel atop the bluff had broken off a large fragment of rock that now rumbled down the slope toward them.
Even she had little time to act, so Anyinn swiftly picked up the fallen man, not hesitating when she realized that she was leaving the stunned mansthein to die. It was a poor decision, but if she could save only one life, her own people came first.
Another mansthein skidded down the side of the hill, faster even than the tumbling stones. Anyinn braced herself to evade, but aside from a glance in her direction, he ignored her, instead scooping up the fallen mansthein and leaping from the avalanche.
Their robes fluttered around them as they leapt to a safe distance, eyes partially on the rocks as they crashed to the ground and mostly watching one another. Judging from his ease of movement, the mansthein could have taken the opportunity to attack her, but chose not to. After a wary glance, they retreated to set down their injured warriors, and she used that moment to observe him more carefully.
Unlike the other mansthein, he had short dark hair that could have been Nolese if not for the greenish tint. Skin lighter than others she'd seen and striped instead of mottled. Thin horns ran back from his head in the same line as his hair. His robes, as yet untouched, might actually have been Nolese linen, even if the cut was no clan she knew. Instead of bone ridges, oddly elongated ears lay flat against his head. Seeing him, Anyinn understood what her husband had said about mistaking some mansthein for human... but his eyes glowed an infernal crimson far worse than that of the corpse or the savage.
"We did not strike first." The mansthein warrior spoke in clear Nolese, though with an eastern accent. He turned toward her without aggression, setting his feet carefully. "This was meant to be a peaceful rite of combat and we were set upon."
"If that is true, you deserve our apologies." Anyinn kept her sword at her side. "But you will forgive me if I do not accept your word without evidence. Will you wait for the authorities to arrive and determine the truth of what happened here?"
"What reason do I have to believe that they won't exterminate me as soon as they arrive, as the others tried to do?"
"You have my word. If you are innocent, I will prevent them from laying a hand on you."
"With all due respect, I'm not sure either of us is in control here." And as he spoke, he smiled, and all of Anyinn's intuitions came tumbling down.
It had been decades since interpreting the expressions of others had been anything other than effortless, yet now her second nature led her wrong. The mansthein's smile didn't part his lips, but the muscles beside his eyes did shift. Yet their pattern was subtly different and she had no way of knowing if that was due to his nature or if it threatened deceit.
"Then I see no alternative." Anyinn raised her sword at shoulder height to point toward his heart. "Why did you come here?"
"To engage in the rites and earn a place in the Taynol Valley for my family, with the strength of my own hands."
He knew the words, and she wanted to believe him, but Anyinn kept her expression neutral. "Then as a representative of the Tayn clan, it is my duty to meet your challenge."
Though he might have looked disappointed for a single heartbeat, the mansthein soon raised his hands in front of him and shifted his stance. Their first exchange of blows passed so swiftly that she reacted on pure instinct, and though Anyinn soon regained her calm, she found herself smiling.
His footwork reminded her of the Circling Leviathan stance, though it was a crude imitation. Despite that, he had the strength to meet her blade with his bare hands and the speed to neutralize the greater reach of her sword. Unlike so many young warriors, who sought to batter down their opponents with greater sein, he understood himself deeply.
Yet as they exchanged techniques again, she saw that he couldn't overcome the flaws in his training. Since he had been so civil, Anyinn had no intention of killing him, but knew that as a sein-trained warrior he could survive a direct blow from a sword.
At last she saw another flaw and thrust forward, her blade a glimmer of sunlight... an inadequate glimmer. Her opponent evaded the thrust in a twisting moment that would never have been used from Circling Leviathan, then struck out with a blow more akin to Punishing Willow.
She managed to evade his palm, but the momentum sent her sliding over the grasses, barely remaining on her feet. A younger warrior might have been bested in that moment, but Anyinn had faced more than a few surprises in her time. When he pursued her, she kept him at bay with Waterfall Cascading Upward and regained her footing to match him.
With each exchange, she realized that she had misjudged him. His stance was not a crude version of Circling Leviathan, but a polished art unfamiliar to her. Realizing that her own assumptions would lead to her defeat, Anyinn resolved to end their duel in the next exchange.
For that, there was only one technique: she raised her free hand and drove the Tranquil Blade into his heart.
Yet to her shock, the mansthein caught the thrust between his palms. The blade was nothing but a shimmering fragment of sein, yet he managed to intercept a spiritual presence. While her mind recoiled, her training automatically pushed forward, finally piercing him with her technique.
This time, the sein flooded into her beyond her control. Anyinn at first flinched at the memory of a monstrous woman, yet the sein carried with it so much warmth that she was caught up in her opponent's mind. In a moment, she found herself falling into images of a loving wife and a laughing baby, a scene of such overwhelming domesticity that she stumbled backward.
When the connection ended, Anyinn emerged taking deep breaths, trying to ready herself if he intended to attack her. Yet her opponent stood still, the expression of peace on his face mixed with a longing that she couldn't understand. He turned toward her with a pained smile that still rang false to her, yet after experiencing those emotions...
"I have enjoyed dueling you... but I do not want it to continue like this."
"I agree." Anyinn straightened her spine and sheathed her blade, finally allowing herself to smile at him. "I struggle to believe that you comprehended my technique and reacted so quickly."
"Ah, you do me too much credit." As the peace faded, he shook his head ruefully. "It is a formidable technique and I could never have countered on my own. I was fortunate enough to see you perform it before, on my ally there."
So he had seen her blade of sein once, from across a battlefield, while leaping down the side of a bluff. In another man's mouth, she would have thought the humility only another boast, yet she found herself believing him. Though it might only have been the feel of his sein - which she reminded herself was an intentional counter he might have used to deceive her - she didn't think he meant anything but respect.
"If you are to be my opponent," he said, "I suppose that it will not be so easy to earn our place in this valley."
"That was your family?" Though she asked the question, the look in his eyes was all the answer she needed, so Anyinn shook her head. "I don't think it will be allowed, no matter your skill... what you said about being attacked first was true?"
"It was. I don't know if it was a moment of anger or if this was planned as an ambush from the start, but one of your warriors killed one of ours without warning."
"If that is so..." Anyinn turned away and began thoroughly inspecting a patch of ground. "Perhaps it would be best if you evaded me and escaped, despite my best efforts."
She thought that she saw him grin from the corner of her eyes, but not well enough to know if the expression was authentic. Even if she had been able to see his face, it would only have been a mixture of alien and familiar that she couldn't read. So Anyinn remained focused away for several heartbeats longer until she felt his presence diminish.
Her anonymous opponent had taken the injured mansthein with him and it looked as though the others had retreated. Remembering her own fallen ally, Anyinn knelt to bandage his wound. His sein was strong, so he would live, but if properly cared for he might be able to avoid a lingering injury or even a scar.
As she worked, Anyinn found herself staring past the bluff, at no one.
Canumon
"This one came close." Gowanisa held up his combat robes in one hand, poking a claw into the cut. "A little slower and she might have torn open your guts. Was it really that close?"
"I don't even remember that as a close call, to be honest with you." From his seated position, Canumon continued to mend another of the cuts to his outer robe. "She was so fast that staying far away was a luxury I couldn't afford. I had to stay on the edge the entire time or I would have lost."
Gowanisa snorted. "Then fighting her up close is lunacy. I've always said that you need to be better fighting at range."
"Maybe so." The apparent scorn was just her concern for him spilling over, so Canumon nodded without arguing. Besides, she was right. If he could have had his life to live again, he would have focused on different techniques to make himself more flexible. But he was an old man and his deep knowledge of his own sein left it rigid as a building's foundation.
As he continued repairing his robes, Canumon couldn't help but look around the room yet again. Even though there was no threat and he knew the floor plan by heart, he felt uncertain outside of their familiar home. Tent walls were less secure as well, giving little warning if someone attempted to attack through them.
Still, he had to admit that the army had placed them comfortably. This tent was nothing like the draped tarps he remembered from the military, instead an elaborate construction that had required several soldiers to raise. Divided into three different chambers, it was actually more spacious than their original home. Chairs and cabinets had been provided for them, workmanlike but in better repair than what they'd owned before. There was even a cradle for Laghy.
It wasn't home, though. And given how the fight had gone, he wasn't certain that he could earn one.
"What if..." Gowanisa hesitated as she set down his robe, just staring at him. "If we fought her together, do you think we could win?"
"I'm not sure." It wasn't quite honest and her eyes narrowed, so he pressed on. "We were evenly matched, so with you striking at range, she might be overwhelmed. But she was very experienced... I think she'd likely turn on you, and I don't know that we could counter effectively."
That rubbed up against sore subjects, but to his surprise, his wife just shook her head. "Be careful." She moved to embrace him and ran her claws gently over the muscles of his back. "I want to go along next time, just in case it's another ambush."
"I hope that it won't be. She had a sense of honor, I think."
"But still. Is it worth the risk?" One of Gowanisa's hands slid down to her stomach and he knew that she was contemplating every one of the risks. All he could do was hold her tighter.
They barely had a few heartbeats together before a loud cough interrupted them and then Kanavakis pushed through the tent flap. Despite the circumstances, he was grinning, trying and failing not to show his teeth. Gowanisa immediately pulled back and handed Canumon his repaired robe, remaining in the door of the next room.
"I knew I was right to pick you, you old bastard." Kanavakis saluted him as if he was still a subordinate. "I thought it might go to hell, but apparently you made an impact on one of the humans. They spoke up for our version of events and none of the clans are going to war. If you hadn't earned their respect, there would be fighting already."
Canumon sighed and didn't return the salute. "Our version of events is the real version."
"That may be true, but it doesn't really matter, does it? All that matters is the story people tell about it: and right now, everybody is still talking treachery. On both sides. We need to do a proper human rite and we need to do it soon. Or maybe an even quicker duel, before things boil over."
"Just what is boiling?"
"The main army, of course. The veterans might be happy to let the real warriors fight, but most of this group is unblooded idiots straight from Fein Karnak. How long do you think a bunch of Feinans can be trusted to stay civilized?" Kanavakis belatedly glanced at Gowanisa and tapped his cap. "No offense intended, Naena."
"How could I possibly take offense, Kaen Laenan?" Gowanisa spat the words like acid and then turned away, though she would still be listening closely. Since the two of them would never get along, Canumon decided to stand up and face the issue head on.
"So you intend to set up another combat rite as soon as possible?" he asked. "Are you sure it won't be another ambush?"
"The official human line is that one of their warriors just wanted to start the battle and it was only our weakness that led to a death." Kanavakis snorted and shook his head. "I told you, they only respect strength, and only on their own terms. There was another clan, where we tried to send Catai... we won, but the humans didn't respect it."
Canumon frowned. "This has been tried before? What happened?"
"That's more than you need to know, Nin Canumon. What we need you to do is sign an official challenge, as soon as we can get the details worked out. Then win, or at least fight well enough that the humans will treat fairly with us."
"Who would I be fighting against?"
"I told you, we need to work out the details. But we wanted to start with a challenge according to their customs, so I need your signature today."
Though Kanavakis pulled a piece of parchment from his bag and set it down on the table, Canumon remained where he stood, considering. Part of him deeply wanted to fight the human woman again. Their blows had reached one another even in the midst of the bloodshed: if they fought without anger, how much more might they learn from each other? But Kanavakis already had quill and ink ready, eager to draw him into the broader scheme.
