Silk And Steel: The Skeleton King Part 35

"Then the bargain was kept."

His rage exploded. "But there never should have been a bargain! Not among allies."

She nodded like a sage. "Two sides of the truth. Both claims have merit." She gave him a small smile shrouded with meaning. "Let the G.o.ds decide the sword's fate."

"What?"

"Let the blue sword belong to the winner of the challenge."

A fight, he could live with that...but only if he fought the challenge. Turning on his heel, he strode towards Kath. "Name me as your champion!"

Kath gave him the smallest shake of her head. "I cannot."

"But I'll win."

"I know."

"You know! Then let me fight!" He stared at her, struggling to understand. "There's no loss of honor in naming a champion."

"It's not about honor."

"It's a fight to the death!" but she just gave him an obstinate stare. He wanted to shake her, to slap some sense into her, but he used words instead. "Look at him! He has the advantage of reach and strength, and he has a blue steel sword! You dare not fight him! One mistake and he'll gut you like a spring lamb."

"Then I best make no mistakes." Her face was ghost-pale but her voice was steady.

"You're mad! There's too much at stake. You can't afford to lose."

"I know." A shadow of fear touched her eyes. She handed him the harness with her throwing axes, "Hold these for me?" and buckled on her sword.

The girl was stubborn beyond reason. "Tell me why?"

Around them, the dais was being cleared.

Kath pulled the crystal dagger from her belt, "Because of this." She gestured with the blade toward the tattooed crowd, "and because of them. We need allies...and they need proof."

"Proof?"

"Proof enough to follow a woman into battle." She gave him a weary smile. "The G.o.ds gave me the crystal dagger, mine to wield against the Darkness, but they did not make me tall, or strong, or male...so I must always find more proof." She reversed the crystal dagger, extending the hilt toward Blaine. "If I fail, then this is yours to wield."

The crystal dagger, her trust staggered him. He took the blade but it felt awkward in his hand. He was meant to wield a sword not a dagger. "You best not fail."

She nodded, her face solemn, and then she did something that totally ambushed him. Standing on tiptoes, she brushed a quick kiss across his cheek. "For believing in me."

His face flame red. Unsure what to say, unsure how to feel, he just stared at her...but she'd already turned away, studying her opponent, preparing for battle.

A voice at his back said, "You must leave."

It was the lion faced man, gesturing toward the stairs. Blaine shook his head, realizing he'd wasted precious time; he should have been counseling her on the fight instead of arguing, but it was too late for that. He tucked the crystal dagger in his belt and followed the lion faced man down the stairs, into the crush of spectators. Frustrated and angry, Blaine shouldered his way through hostile faces till he reached the monk and Danya.

Zith stared at him, his face haggard. "She does what she must."

Blaine glared at the old man. "She'll get herself killed, and then where will we be?"

An expectant hush settled over the crowd.

"Challenge has been given and accepted." Royce extinguished the single candle burning on the central pillar. "The champions are named. Swords are chosen. The War Helm is in the hands of the G.o.ds. Let the swords decide." Bowing to Kath and the fox faced man, he descended the stairs.

The dais stood empty except for the two combatants. The fox faced warrior stood to the right, six-foot tall, broad shoulders, a nimbus of bright red hair surrounding an insolent face. He wore a patched chainmail s.h.i.+rt over a leather tunic, a seasoned warrior ready to fight. Bristling with bravado, he twirled the blue steel blade, slas.h.i.+ng the air with sweeping strokes. The blue sword was mesmerizing, a thing of beauty, so keen it whistled as it cut the air. The great blade scribed five foot arcs, a deadly swath unmatched by any other weapon. To Blaine's eyes, the strokes were wild and undisciplined...but every cut held the promise of death. Even in the hands of an unskilled warrior, a blue steel sword was a weapon to be reckoned with.

On the opposite side, Kath stood alone. Long blonde hair tied at the nape of her neck, clad in brown fighting leathers, no s.h.i.+eld, no greaves, no armor, nothing but a simple short sword. She stood flat-footed, the sword hanging listless in her right hand, the point dangling toward the ground, looking vulnerable and unprepared, but Blaine knew better. He recognized the flinty look on her face. She was thinking, trying to outsmart her opponent, and that was good, because everything else was stacked against her. Blaine ground his teeth, knowing she should have named him her champion. A trial sanctioned by the G.o.ds should be fair. Not leather against chainmail, not a short two-foot sword against a five foot blade, and certainly not ordinary steel against a blue steel blade...but then the G.o.ds weren't known for their fairness. Blaine balled his hands into fists, praying for Valin to intervene, knowing Kath would need more than luck to survive.

A murmur rippled through the crowd, and he realized the fight had begun.

The fox faced warrior circled the dais, slas.h.i.+ng the air with his sword, as if intimidation alone would win the fight.

Kath stayed still, letting him come to her.

The warrior barked a laugh. "Aren't you going to fight?" His voice changed from a taunt to a sneer. "A barefaced woman pitted against a painted warrior. Of course you're scared stiff, turned to stone."

Kath remained statue still, watching through narrow eyes.

"Soon your fear will turn to water, running down your leg." Laughing, he drew close, the blue sword whistling with menace. "Beg for mercy and you'll live." He sprang forward, aiming a viscous slash at Kath's head...but the girl was already gone. Dancing backwards, she kept one step away from the great sword.

Snarling, he gave chase, "Stand and fight!" but Kath did not listen. Round and round the dais, she led him on an intricate dance, flirting with death, always staying a handbreadth away from the blue blade. Her timing was uncanny, always dodging at the last moment, goading her opponent to a fit of wild rage.

Blaine leaned forward, his fists clenched, knowing the girl played a dangerous game. It took skill and nerves to dance so close to death...but she couldn't afford a single mistake...and sooner or later she'd have to attack.

Kath dodged left...and slipped!

The crowd gasped as she fell, sprawled beneath the blade of her opponent.

The fox grinned, struggling to change a horizontal swing into a downward slash.

Blue steel struck stone, sending up a shower of chips...but Kath was already gone. Springing to her feet, she lunged forward with a lightning strike, her sword slas.h.i.+ng toward his face. "Yield!"

Steel met flesh with a sickening crunch.

Kath danced away.

Blood blossomed on the fox's face. He staggered backward, his nose smashed flat...but he did not die! Blaine groaned; she'd attacked with the flat of her sword! The girl was going to get herself killed!

Kath backed away, her sword raised, her voice loud enough to echo through the cavern. "Yield! We aid the Mordant by fighting amongst ourselves!"

Enraged, the fox was beyond reason. Wiping the blood from his face, he charged like a bull.

Kath dodged away, narrowly evading the sapphire sword.

The fox swung wide. Slash and hack, he fought like a demon enraged, wild swings seeking Kath's head, attacking with a flurry of blows.

Kath sidestepped, dodging the blue sword by a mere whisker.

Blaine bit his lip, drawing blood, bitterly aware of Kath's deadly dilemma. Against blue steel, she couldn't engage and she couldn't parry, speed and grace her only weapons. A small woman fighting against a tall man, like pitting a deer against a lion, the outcome seemed inevitable. Blaine couldn't watch, yet he couldn't look away, knowing a single mistake would cost her life.

Drenched with sweat, both combatants slowed but neither gave up. Locked together like ill-fated lovers, the macabre dance moved to the center of the dais. Kath retreated, almost in a straight line, her footsteps dragging, her blond hair streaked with sweat, her eyes glazed.

The crowd stood, sensing the end was near.

Blaine edged towards the dais, his hand on his dagger, but Zith grabbed his arm. "No."

Time had nearly caught Kath. Exhausted, she staggered backwards, her sword a frail weapon against blue steel.

The fox rushed in for the kill. He loosed the blue steel blade in a mighty shoulder-high swing, a killing blow aimed at her neck.

Kath stared as if transfixed.

Blaine screamed. "No!"

At the last moment, Kath stepped sideways...and the sword struck stone! Sparks flared. Blue steel cleaved into the stone pillar, shattering the wax sheath, biting deep into the red rock pillar...and then it stopped, the sapphire blade held fast. The sword stuck in the stone.

The crowd gasped in disbelief.

Kath raised her sword to the warrior's throat. "Yield."

The fox strained to pull the sword free, corded muscles bulging at his neck.

Kath forced his head back, the tip of her sword drawing blood. "Yield!"

s.h.a.grith, the leader of the eagles, leaped onto the dais. "Kill him!"

Blaine gaped, ambushed by the eagle's betrayal of the fox.

"I said kill him!" s.h.a.grith raged at Kath. "The fight is to the death! You dare to claim the War Helm yet you're afraid to kill!"

Kath's voice shook with rage. "I kill enemies not allies. Are the lives of your men worth so little?"

Anger ripped through the crowd.

Kath kept her sword pressed to the warrior's throat, drawing a bead of blood. "For the last time, will you yield?"

Confusion played across the fox's face. He looked from the eagle to the sword and then slowly raised his empty hands, his voice distorted by his smashed nose. "I yield."

Kath lowered her sword, weariness cras.h.i.+ng across her face. She stared out at the crowd. "Now do you believe? Do you have the proof you need?" Striding to the front of the dais, she raised her voice to a shout. "We are allies! Our swords are joined with yours. Together we're destined to defeat the Mordant."

The crowd stirred but they did not cheer.

Blaine kept his gaze fixed on Kath.

Movement on the dais, s.h.a.grith raced towards Kath, a dagger poised to strike at her back.

The crowd gasped.

Blaine screamed, "Behind you!"

Kath whirled. Swift as lightning, she parried the blow and then lunged forward. Strike of the dragon, so fluid it was like nothing he'd ever seen. Her sword struck deep, taking the a.s.sa.s.sin in the chest, a killing blow straight to the heart.

Impaled, the eagle sagged dead on her sword, surprise scrawled across his face.

Kath shook her head and pulled her sword loose, blood dripping from the blade.

Blaine vaulted onto the dais and stood at her back, his fists clenched, his voice a hoa.r.s.e whisper. "I've got your back."

She nodded, her sword held in a warrior's stance.

A chime of bells filled the cavern, like the sound of soft rain.

The Old One was carried onto the dais, followed by a procession of lion faced men in pale white jerkins and raven faced women in sheepskin cloaks. They stepped around the slain eagle and nodded to Kath, taking positions around the dais.

Royce, the big man with the wild mane of auburn hair, the one Blaine thought of as the leader of the lions, was the last to climb the steps. Solemn with dignity, he carried a swath of sheepskin. Nestled on the sheepskin sat a helmet, a simple conical half-helm with a cruciform nose guard. Made of ordinary steel, the helm was burnished bright. Despite the polish, it had an ancient look about it, a relic of the past. Blaine was tempted to dismiss it, till he saw the detail on the nose guard. Cunningly wrought in gold, a pantheon of predators decorated the helm, wolves, badgers, foxes, and owls, too many to count, and on the crest reared a roaring lion, a single paw outstretched in victory. Something about the helm stirred Blaine's blood, a call to battle. "The War Helm!" The words whispered out of him, a touch of envy in his voice.

Royce turned towards the crowd, his voice echoing to the far reaches of the cavern. "The G.o.ds have spoken. The War Helm is fairly won!"

The crowd sat stunned, thousands of faces staring at the dais.

Royce carried the helm to the Old One, leaning down for her approval.

The Old One raised her arms, gnarled hands hovering above the gleaming helm like a benediction. "The will of the G.o.ds has prevailed. May the Light lead us to victory."

The crowd remained silent, the weight of judgment hanging in the air.

Blaine stood behind Kath, his hands balled into fists.

Royce walked towards Kath, offering her the helm. "Great change is upon us. Never before has a woman, let alone a barefaced stranger, won the War Helm. Yet the G.o.ds have spoken. Your claim is proven in front of all the people. Predicted by the vision of a Taishan and sealed by the test of combat, it is yours by right. Lead us well."

Blaine whispered, "Take it."

Kath hesitated.

Royce smiled, his voice dropping to a whisper. "By tradition, the war leader places the helm upon his...her head...in front of all the people."

Still Kath hesitated. "And there are no words to speak? No oath of fealty?"

His smile deepened. "Your deeds speak louder than any words." He proffered the helm toward her, his voice dropping to a whisper. "The Old One had it lined with sheepskin to ensure a better fit."

Blaine glared at the old woman. So the wrinkled witch had foreseen the outcome, yet she'd made Kath risk her life. The painted people were hard to understand and harder to trust.

Royce said, "Will you accept the War Helm?"

Kath reached out with both hands, gently lifting the helm. Turning to face the people, she raised the helm into the air. "By the Light, I swear to value every sword among you." She slowly settled the helm on her head, burnished steel set over long blond hair. "By the Light, I'll find a way to victory!"