Chapter 9
Dusk came early to this rocky wasteland, for the Channel Mountains cut off the sun. In darkness, Sunbright found the tribe waiting for him. Silently, Blinddrum led the way. Boys and girls toted torches with hardwood handles split at the top and jammed full of poplar bark. At the center of the crooked village, tribesfolk had rolled up rocks to make a rough arena. There were over three hundred barbarians now, including many who'd moved to town but had been fetched back by runners. The shaman smiled to see the changes. His coming-for good or ill-had already made an impact on the tribe.
Now, if he could just survive to get his message out.
Sunbright entered a ring of torches and people to stand alone. Monkberry and Knucklebones were admitted to the edge of the ring. The big barbarian shucked off his belt knife and back scabbard, tossed them aside so as to fight unencumbered. The crowd parted, oohed and ahhed, as giant Blinddrum stepped forth with only a long steel sword in his hand. The huge, craggy instructor raised his sword in a lazy salute, then took the first stance a student learned: left toe pointed, right foot and sword back. But he blinked when Sunbright lifted a bare hand.
'Wait!' Sunbright called out. 'We must pray!'
The crowd gurgled a question. Blinddrum blinked again, as if his eyes were aging, and asked, 'We must? Why?'
Sunbright tilted his sword down, raised his voice so all could hear, and said, 'This is a formal duel, not a brawl. We needs pray so Amaunator, Keeper of Law, will oversee the fight and maintain fairness. Otherwise Shar, the Shadowy Seductress, might cast a veil over one of us; or Tyche, Lady Doom, might, on some whim, visit one with luck. To pray before a duel has always been a tradition amongst our people, has it not? Or has everyone forgotten that?'
Folk muttered. Some frowned at the interruption, but old Iceborn, blind and seeing only in his mind, quavered, 'He speaks aright! It was always thus!'
Sunbright twirled a circle, raised his arms, and called out, 'Rengarth, pray with me! Keeper of the Sun, please hear us! Send us truth, send us light, send us wisdom as we see these men battle for what is just! We praise thy name!' The crowd echoed, 'Praise Amaunator!'
Grinning foolishly, Sunbright waggled his blade at Blinddrum. 'We may begin,' he said.
But the swordmaster stood still. 'Your travels addled your brain, Sunbright,' he said. 'You grin before a death duel.'
'I'm just glad to be home.'
The fighter's grin had become a death's head rictus. White teeth gleamed in the torchlight.
'To come home to die is foolish.'
'I could have died a thousand times in battles past, Blinddrum, but my sword prevailed because I had fine instructors. Probably the best in the world. You and Thornwing.'
The straight sword drooped. Almost petulant, Blinddrum rumbled, 'You make it hard to kill you. And I don't think you came home to fight.'
Children scuffled bare feet around the ring, eager for battle. Adults stilled them to hear.
'I came home to talk to my people, to make them listen and think. They will not listen, only let me fight. So I fight. Prepare!'
Sunbright Steelshanks leaped into battle. Illuminated by torchlight, Harvester of Blood glittered like a crescent moon as it swung across the night sky. The shaman's howled war cry, 'Ra-vens!' sent a shiver and thrill through the audience.
When his blade crashed on Blinddrum's upraised sword with an awesome clang! sparks scattered. The crowd roared.
Instantly, Sunbright dropped back for the parry, as he'd learned long ago. And it came, for Blinddrum scythed his sword sideways to shear Sunbright's leg or knee. The young man was not there, having hopped free, and Blinddrum had to snap his blade up to protect his shoulder from a hissing sideswipe. When their blades clashed and rebounded, Sunbright feinted a head blow, then aimed for the same spot again. His quadruple blows came so fast that Blinddrum was slashed across the shoulder. The big man grunted and stepped back.
'You learned much in the southlands.'
'I learned everything from you,' Sunbright panted. 'And practiced it every day. Have at you!'
Blinddrum stepped back, almost into the crowd, as Sunbright grabbed Harvester's pommel in two hands and slashed sideways. The giant tilted his blade, and banked Sunbright's off. Normally a fighter using two hands couldn't poise his blade quick enough, and Blinddrum swung at exposed ribs. But Sunbright surprised everyone by whirling a complete circle and slashing again. Blinddrum whipped his blade too slowly, and was pinked across the wrists.
The giant, much older than Sunbright, waggled his blade as a shield. He puffed, 'You make me recall tricks I'd forgotten!'
'Recall them then! That's why I'm here!' Sunbright shouted. 'Hyaah!'
Two-handed, Sunbright aimed a down-angling slash, but feinted once, then twice. His blade spanked Blinddrum's both times, lightly, then he knocked it high. Leaping, he tipped Blinddrum's tunic at the breast, shearing the old hide and drawing a trickle of blood.
But the wily instructor took the nick and snapped his steel up to wound Sunbright's right elbow. Blood dripped from the barbarian's forearm as he stamped backward.
'The lion is not toothless!' Sunbright shouted over the yelling of the tribe.
'The cub is,' Blinddrum gasped. 'You won't kill me! You pulled that blow!'
'Prove it!' Sunbright yelled. 'Huzzah!' Stamping forward and driving hard, Sunbright aimed a two-handed lunge at Blinddrum's belly. The instructor batted it aside heavily and swung wild, just clipping Sunbright's chin. The younger man flicked his head aside, reached too far, but snagged Harvester's barbed hook behind Blinddrum's bicep. Whipping it back, he dug a furrow in the man's bronze skin. So sharp was the cut, it bled little at first, but soon ran a river.
Blinddrum hollered, stamped and slashed, feinted and double-thrusted, but only pinked Sunbright once in the thigh. By then the instructor's left arm was spider-webbed with blood and hanging limp. Finally he cried, 'Hold!' and dropped his point to the rocky ground. 'I cannot continue. I concede.'
'No!' cried many. 'No! To the death! Finish him! Kill the outsider!' Yet others yelled, 'No death! Honor is satisfied!'
Blinddrum shook his head, handed the long steel blade to Thornwing waiting in the ring. The tall, thin woman used her hem to wipe blood from the pommel and blade, then entered the ring and saluted.
Sunbright blew like a bellows, wiped sweat off his brow and blood off his chin. Salt stung and he winced, for he was pinked in four places. He kept his swordpoint down.
'You'd make me fight another duel right away?'
'Yes,' Blinddrum wheezed. 'We counseled, and decided it was best to get it over-'
'You cannot council,' the shaman interrupted, 'for you have no council fire.'
The giant demurred, corrected, 'We talked then, and decided it was just. You must abide by the decision.'
'Talk is fine,' the shaman said, shaking his head, 'but only the council can change the rules of a duel. True?'
Confused, Blinddrum turned to Thornwing, who nodded and dropped her swordpoint. 'He is right,' she said. 'Tradition gives him a day to rest before the next duel.'
'Saved by tradition!' Sunbright gulped. 'I choose to rest.' He limped to the circle, where he joined Monkberry and Knucklebones to return to the hut.
Behind, noise swelled as the crowd argued. Why didn't Blinddrum strike to kill? Why grant Sunbright a day of rest? Was the duel even necessary when Sunbright was under a sentence of death to begin with? Why not just execute him? Who would wear the wolf masks? Did they even have a wolf mask now?
Monkberry smiled in a small way, resembling her grinning son. 'You're not back one day, child,' she said, 'yet the tribe buzzes and talks as they haven't in months. Would your father could see this.'
'See people squabble endlessly?' Knucklebones demanded. 'They gabble like ducks in a pond and say nothing!'
