Blades Falling Softly, page 5
part #1 of The Brightest Shadow Series
Step by step, they retraced their techniques. Canumon saw the suspicion in her eyes, waiting for the moment where he would break the pattern to strike her, but he walked it like a paved path. Gradually their movements became smoother, the formalized ritual of two allies in a single school. It was a moment of peace that would not be sufficient, but it would end in the brilliant technique he had seen before.
Just as he had hoped, she manifested the shimmering blade that slid into his heart with deceptive simplicity. Even as he countered, he took a deep breath and welcomed it.
The momentary experience captivated him in a way that sein rarely could, the memory crystallized to perfection. His heart was at peace, the sunlight fell so gently, the pond represented tranquility itself. No doubt this memory had been formed and reformed in her mind, made more perfect than it had ever been in reality. But that fact actually told him more about who Tayn Anyinn was as a person: no one could lie in their soul itself, so this peace was truly what she sought.
He had no sein arts that could equal her polished memory, but Canumon had already planned for this. Instead of letting her overwhelm him, he responded with the rush of passions that he had prepared. She would feel the years of sweat in Nolese arts, the seething hatred surrounding him, the desperate drive to find a place for his family.
Canumon had thrown himself so fully into the sein of it that he took several heartbeats to recover, moments in which his opponent could easily have ended his life. Instead, as he returned to himself in the present, Canumon saw that she stood opposite him, her steel sword hanging loosely.
The sein sword had vanished along with the moment.
For a long time she simply regarded him without expression. He wanted to imagine that he could see a reflection of what he had passed to her, mingled with the tranquility of her sword, but that was self-deception. She was too old and familiar with her own soul to be so easily shifted, or at least if she had been, he would never see it on her face.
"The duel is over," she said at last, returning her sword to its sheath. "You have earned your right to a true challenge to settle in Taynol Valley. Our clans will negotiate the terms."
With that, she turned away and the mansthein beside the Lonely Diamond released sighs of relief. Canumon simply stared, wondering if he wanted what he wanted.
Anyinn
Though Anyinn wasn't sure what level of ferocity was appropriate for a young girl, she couldn't help but feel uncertain as she fended off her daughter's attacks. There was no real danger to either of them, as Heraenyas's juvenile sein made it easy to avoid any injuries. She was sure that the girl knew that, given the respect she had for her parents, and passion was better than apathy.
And yet... she didn't like how the girl threw herself into each technique. It was one thing for her daughter to possess a different quality of sein and another for a girl so young to strike with such a vicious edge. Not long ago Anyinn had smiled while facing an opponent, but the grin as her daughter caught herself on the ground and lunged forward again...
Deciding that it had gone on long enough, Anyinn used her full speed to end the sparring. It took so little effort to sweep Heraenyas off her feet with the flat of her blade and catch her in her arms, tumbling the girl end over end before depositing her on the ground.
All at once, Heraenyas was laughing like she had as a much younger child, face so utterly free of anger that Anyinn doubted if she had seen anything at all. She had been facing so many grim or bloodthirsty adults, it would be no surprise if her awareness of others had been knocked askew.
"You're doing well, daughter." Anyinn knelt down beside her, sword across her knees. "But very few warriors can safely throw themselves toward an opponent like that, and you're not one of them, not yet."
"I know, but it's so fun." Heraenyas stifled her giggle and abruptly looked too serious. "You've been so busy. And Father is always talking to boring people. You didn't even tell me what happened. Did you really fight the Deathspawn to keep them out of the valley?"
"Where did you hear that?" Though Anyinn kept her tone neutral, her daughter knew her too well, drawing back with a frown.
"You told me. You told me and Father when you were going out to fight."
"No, why did you call them Deathspawn?"
"Oh, everybody knows that!" Heraenyas regarded her as if astonished that her mother could be so ignorant. "The Legend says that the Dark Lord will lead all the Deathspawn to destroy the world and the Hero will lead everyone to stop him."
"Not all stories are true, Heraenyas." Anyinn set her sword aside and settled onto the tile beside her daughter. "You remember when you and your cousins told me that a flying dragon got your clothes all muddy?"
"But that... that was just being silly! It wasn't a... a Legend. Everyone is saying it, and now there are even Deathspawn just like in the stories..."
"I'm not sure there are. They might not be exactly the same as us, but they're alike in one way: some are good and some are bad. You shouldn't call them names and tell cruel stories about them."
The somber words made Heraenyas settle back, though it was obvious that she would require more than that to refute the powerful evidence of childhood rumors. She tucked her robes around herself and stared up thoughtfully. "But you did fight him, right? Everyone says you did."
"Yes, but it was no different than when I duel your aunts or uncles. Just a way of resolving disagreements."
"Did he have big horns and fires for eyes? I heard that they're as tall as trees and just as big around and they use huge axes bigger than me."
"The one I met was about my size, though I think some are taller. He does have small horns." Anyinn put a hand on her daughter's shoulder and rubbed it as she thought back to their encounter. Though she did remember how Canumon's eyes nearly glowed, what stuck with her was the human depth in them. "He didn't have fires for eyes. They were red, but that's not such a strange color, is it? There are people with all sorts of different colors."
Heraenyas settled back, deeply disappointed. Anyinn wasn't sure how far her words had reached, but before she could consider how to approach her daughter, she felt another presence. One so powerful that she reached for her sword before recognizing it.
Feinouya Tayn entered the small building where they had been training with a rush of sein, as if she had run the entire distance and stopped only at the entrance. The head of the entire Tayn clan had every fold of her robes immaculate and every pin in her hair precisely placed, but Anyinn saw the tension in the older woman's eyes. She had guided their clan through feuds and droughts and worse, yet now she looked more apprehensive than Anyinn had ever seen her.
"Auntie Feinouya!" Heraenyas hopped to her feet and bobbed a polite bow. Normally Feinouya might reprimand a child for addressing her so casually, even a favorite child, but today she barely gave the girl a glance.
"I need to speak to your mother, girl. Go and train."
Though disappointed by this as well, Heraenyas nodded, picked up her sword, and trudged to the door. She lingered outside the entrance, hoping to eavesdrop, but a glance from Anyinn sent her on her way. As soon as she was gone, a fist of tension closed around the room. Even though there was no urgent danger, Anyinn straightened her back and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword.
"What is it, Feinouya Tayn?" Anyinn tried to discern more from the other woman's face, wondering what could have required the head of their clan to visit personally. They had been in correspondence to arrange the rites, of course, but Anyinn had not expected any direct involvement.
"We've scheduled the challenge rite to take place thirty days from now," Feinouya said. "The terms are still being decided, but it will likely be a series of five or seven duels. Yours will be the first, at the thirty day mark, with perhaps several days in between the others."
It was a considerable delay, but that fact was obvious and Feinouya hated when people stated the obvious to her, so Anyinn shifted to the next step. "Why are you delaying the rites?"
"Because we're getting tangled deeper and deeper in this quagmire." Feinouya clasped her hands together, the fingers that had rebuilt a clan with raw force strained white. "If this was just another clan, you could defeat their champion and throw them out. I'd fight one of the duels myself. But there's an army sitting in eastern Nol and I don't think a loss would be accepted."
"Then is our goal to negotiate terms that will allow a few concessions?"
"I don't know. This is just buying time." Feinouya took a deep breath and finally faced her. "The Nolese Coalition is pretending that this isn't a challenge to Nol itself. That means that we'll be facing their best, the equivalent of many mansthein clans together. And they have masters, Anyinn. Masters who are my equal and... perhaps even worse, if the stories are true."
As the silence stretched, Anyinn realized that the head of their clan might be looking for reassurance instead of giving commands. Yet mere words would accomplish nothing, so Anyinn sought another angle of attack. "Why not accept a simple rite and allow one family to enter Taynol Valley? Even if they intended to follow with more, you could block them at every step, and potentially draw in other clans."
"It wouldn't be accepted by our allies, because they're treating this as an invasion. They want us to fight on behalf of a nation that refuses to join us in battle."
"I can fight one duel for you, but no more. My opponent... I believe that we are roughly equal and that he is not without honor. Would neutral results and further delays benefit us?"
Feinouya regarded her somberly, then suddenly let her hands fall to her sides. "Only if I can acquire allies capable of balancing those our opponents will bring to bear. And I don't know that I can. Going to any other clan would be a sign of weakness and place us in their debt. Asking a clan from Tur-Nol would be a betrayal. I can find perhaps one warrior from Estronn, but we need more."
So that was the true reason for the visit: Anyinn had traveled further beyond the lands of Nol than most of the clan. "I assume you've already spoken to our allies in the port cities and no masters from Teralanth or Reynt will answer?"
"There's no time for a sea voyage - we need someone who can run overland."
"Then you've made it clear that we have only one choice: we need to draw an ally from the Chorhan Expanse."
"Barbarians?" Feinouya regarded her skeptically even though she must have known that was the only conclusion. "I've fought a few Coran knights with some spine, but their sein is not like ours. They could never stand in one of our duels."
"But there are other groups in the Expanse. I spent some time with the Rhen tribes and met some of them with arts similar to ours." Anyinn smiled at the memories despite the circumstances. "But if the situation is truly so dire, then you need to find one of their best. The greatest of their warriors are called the Four Winds, and I have heard that the West Wind dwells on the border between Estronn and Nol."
"Even if someone could find them and return in time, would it be enough? Can you promise me their strength would be adequate?"
"No. But I trained under masters stronger than you who claimed that the Four Winds were greater than they. The West Wind in particular is said to enjoy foreign lands and strange challenges. His price might not be so high, if you can convince him of our cause."
"Then perhaps that is our only choice." Feinouya turned to her and extended a hand, which Anyinn kissed gracefully. "Thank you for your words, Anyinn. And if I have not said it... thank you for representing us so effectively. The burden that has fallen to our generation..."
She drifted off, and though propriety insisted that Anyinn should remain silent, she had too little time left for such things. "If I can offer any advice about negotiating with the Rhen, I will give it. And you know that you have my sword in the duels to come. Thirty days?"
"No, you must leave soon. Representatives from both sides will be meeting in the Straedi territory, north of the valley. One of the great lodges is being prepared and I need you to go. Avoid any violence, but learn what you can of them."
Concern about leaving her home faded into a smile as Anyinn considered what that would mean. "I think I can do that."
Canumon
After days of talk about how the humans were all brutes living in austere fortresses, the expansive lodge seemed to make no impact on the other mansthein at all. Canumon had yet to press any of them on the matter, so he could only wonder how they saw such a grand complex and changed nothing about their opinions. Perhaps they just defaulted to thinking they were back in civilization.
He, at least, couldn't spend any time in the great lodge without considering it. The name suggested a smaller building, but the mansthein and human factions were placed on opposite sides of a vast complex. Much of it was built to impress, wide marble walkways with towering pillars along the sides, but even the smaller buildings for staff were well-constructed and in good repair. That spoke to the strength of the clan that owned it more than the grand construction.
It was technically a place of peace, though he saw that it had been made with war in mind. Not for a siege of armies, but a siege of powerful warriors. The walkways were stabilized for jumping, the roofs reinforced by redundant pillars so they would not easily collapse, the angles of the windows providing defenders with a moment's initiative.
At least their personal quarters were built for their defense as far as he could tell, instead of being a prison or a death trap. Moving from place to place with no time to settle still left him disgruntled. Gowanisa seemed to adapt easily, but Laghy was fussier than usual.
His wife emerged in the kitchen while he was brewing neth, bouncing Laghy while he whined and squirmed. Canumon saw the weariness in her eyes and belatedly realized that he should have taken the boy for a time, since he soon wouldn't be able to. He didn't see any incrimination in her eyes, only exhaustion.
"Weren't you going to go meet the human?" she asked, rubbing one eye. Laghy whined and grabbed her arm as it rose, trying to pull himself higher.
"I didn't get a response, but I need to wait for the neth anyway." He gestured at the kettle, completely uselessly. "If no one comes, I'll meditate until noon and then come back to take Laghy. If the humans throw me out... I'll be back a lot sooner."
"They won't throw you out. Not with the army itching for a fight." Gowanisa started to work at something on the stove, but sniffed the tea with a look of distaste and shuffled away. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and let Laghy bite his finger for a while, though when she was this tired, she just grunted in response.
Once the neth was fully brewed, Canumon picked up the kettle and two porcelain cups. This had been a risk from the beginning, so he was only a little nervous to leave their quarters. Perhaps the day would be simple meditation and a failure on every other level, but he wasn't willing to wait for that long and endure the maneuvering of so many politicians.
As he left the mansthein-controlled side of the lodge, he reflected that his wife was right: this was a military position that wouldn't be idly challenged. Towd Catai stood guard, looming masses of muscle that always intimidated humans. He felt small and shabby next to them, even if he probably could have taken any of them in a fight. Being so bulky would have made it impossible to perform most of his techniques... though he wouldn't have refused their iron skin. They probably didn't have neck pain when they got up in the morning, either.
Entering neutral territory, Canumon looked back once and considered the crimson eyes at the other side of the walkway. All at once, the human fear became much clearer to him. Even for those who saw beyond the foreignness, the mansthein represented an existential threat to the balance of clans.
With luck, there was one human who wasn't afraid. Assuming the message had even reached her.
A pagoda sat at the end of a walkway between the two branches of the complex, mostly unused. Canumon sat down and poured a cup of neth for himself while he waited. It wasn't his best kettle, but it carried his sein clearly and didn't taste of fear or anger. That would be enough, if it mattered at all.
For a time he stared out into the mists covering the mossy crags beneath the clan lodge, then he shifted into his meditation. He was just about to consider the day a loss when she settled down on the opposite bench.
"Good morning," Anyinn said. "There was considerable discussion about whether or not your invitation was a trap."
"You told your superiors?" Canumon asked, but was gratified when she shook her head.
"Only my husband. I'm a swordswoman, so I'll try a direct thrust: does this meeting compromise our position in some way I'm not seeing?"
"I just wanted to talk. Cup of neth?"
She regarded him for a time, then nodded. They sat too far apart to make that easy, and he wondered if her back ached like his did. To his surprise, she drew her sword and adroitly flicked the unused cup into the air, catching it on the flat of the blade. Canumon filled the cup and she slid it back to her other hand for a sip.
They drank in silence for a time before she nodded. "This is good, but I suppose I should not be surprised. You've been brewing this since you came to Nol, no doubt."
"We have neth back on Orphos, too." Canumon let a bit of sein flow through the kettle, reheating it, then refilled his cup. "There are even places like this there, though they aren't controlled by clans. We have more in common than our superiors want to admit."
"That's true." Anyinn took a slow sip, eyeing him over the rim of her cup. "But not everything is so simple. They don't grow humans as large as those huge fellows you have guarding your side."
"Those are the Catai, specifically Towd Catai. They weren't born that way, as I'm sure their mothers were grateful. But instead of undergoing a natural rebirth, they go through a very expensive artificial one. It leaves them tough and strong, though-"
"Rebirth?"
And like that, the distance between them seemed just a little further. Canumon was no fool, to think that humans had the same life cycle as mansthein, yet he'd still neglected to consider the difference. He withdrew his mind for a time, trying to consider everything from outside himself. No doubt this conversation had occurred before, but not for the two of them.
