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was he banded. It seemed to me I saw the bruises on his skin fading as he
worked within. But his hand shook, as he received the uris from Chayin. And in
touching that pouch to his lips, Sereth amended his longstanding custom. Never
had he used it, in all the time I had known him.
I got them the weapons; all that I had procured from the fitter, and two
blades of Khys s. While I fetched them, I worried the implications of their
manner. Chayin would not miss it if I sought within him. Sereth was
inaccessible behind his shield.
When I brought the arms before them, Chayin had his hands upon Sereth s back.
With each other, they shared strength.
I spread the tas, exposing what blades I had chosen, and added to them what I
had taken of Khys s.
Sereth, after a momentary hesitation, took that blade I had blooded, that one
I had worn into his cell.
 That is the one I had meant for you, I said softly.
A tiny humor came over him as he reappraised it.  It is near the weight I
favor. Let us hope it is near enough. Still did he have that isolate
bearing. I had seen it before on him upon the kill. From it I sat back.
 Chayin, what rises? I demanded in a whisper as Sereth got up from couch to
try the blade and his limbs.
But Chayin did not answer. Then he, too, was standing. I found myself, in my
turn, shocked to my feet.
Khys weaved, legs spread wide, upon the rust-toned mat. The spiral Estrazi had
put upon his chest glittered malevolently. He had lost all but chald. Upon the
left side of his face, and in a strip down his chest, great chunks of the
flame glow that once lurked ever about him had been torn away. The dull and
darkened skin, exposed, seemed to shrink from the air. His eyes were gleaming
slits. From out of that countenance blazed such anguish and fury that I moaned
and shrank back. Chayin took me in his arms and from behind. He put his hand
over my mouth, even as the dharen s name escaped my lips.
 Sereth.
 Khys.
 Thought you I would quit the Lake of Horns?
 Never for a moment.
 Do you hold stra by reason of choice?
 It is the weapon with which I would meet you.
I opened my eyes.
 That choice I have ceded you, agreed Khys, his stance firm. But I knew him,
and what was meant by the ridges upon his jaw and neck, by his knotted belly.
And tears rolled out of my eyes onto Chayin s hand as he crossed the mat.
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Slowly and with great dignity Khys approached, to take up the chosen weapon.
Sereth threw his head, his eyes narrowed. He stared at Khys s back, his wrist
and forearm of their own accord making ready.
Khys, as I had known he would, chose the chased blade, its hilt a single fire
gem, which bore the seal of his own skin mimicked. When he raised up, his
glance slid by me. Sickened by what the fathers had wrought, I was. And he
knew. He touched gaze and mind to Chayin s. They communed a time, and while it
occurred, the cahndor s every sinew pulled tight against my back.
 I will give you quarter, said Khys, turning around to Sereth.
 I will give you quarter, Sereth rejoined, his crouch belying his words.
 For the Lake of Horns, if you wish. For all of Silistra.
 I can put nothing against that but my life.
 It is enough. Witnesses have heard it.
I moaned under Chayin s hand and wriggled. He slid his other arm around my
waist.
They stalked.
They circled, and as they did so found that infirmity had evened the odds
between them. I saw it clear, in Khys s uncertain advantage, and in Sereth,
who slipped ever out of contest. I threw myself hard against the cahndor s
imprisoning grasp.
 Hush, crell, he whispered.  We will know your new master soon enough.
At first it seemed no battle of mind between them. Even the clash of stra was
sporadic. They still tested, limbering, each awaiting his body s own signs.
Through blurred eyes I saw Khys s first strong pass a slash across Sereth s
chest. And sobs racked me, that these two had come to contest. The wound
seemed to wake Sereth, to free him, as if he had been elsewhere. He shook his
head. He reached, and connected with a side cut to Khys s neck; unexpected
upstroke, a hair s breadth from death cut.
Khys stepped back. The blood raced in a dozen streams, eager, down his chest.
The shock of the cut, the burning, coupled with surprise at his own fragile,
fickle flesh, came first. Life right warred with honor within him. It consumed
his shield, pouring over me, freezing my tears. He noted. He could no longer
afford attention to shielding, not even for privacy. Victory, cold, bitter
triumph that his body would not understand, flooded him while his physical
form poised shocked and shivering upon the edge of the abyss. He sorrowed,
momentarily, that he had no time to explain to it, that collection of muscle
and nerve that demanded to survive, that he had sold the years it held yet
banked within for this moment, for freedom from all detested manipulation, for
an act and consequence solely of himself. Poised there, by his will, he
laughed through the waves of anguish and loss and his body s terror that he
would no longer heed its needs. He laughed again, realizing that at this
moment, which he had chosen, even such an eloquent statement of fully
actualized will became as nothing, for where he went no fathers reigned, nor
self recalled. Freed of them, and even his mind s craven judgment of the
precipitousness of his folly, all that remained was the act itself. He strove
desperately to retake control of his fear, grinding his teeth together to
still their chatter. For out of presage came an awful foreboding, a terrible
yawning chasm of possibility: that even this would be denied him, that this
death toward which his life had labored would be aborted.
With an effort of will that had me lunging mindless against Chayin s
restraining arms, he closed with Sereth. Out of the sharper weapon of turmoil,
wielded by ineluctable decision, he thrust. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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