a feeble gesture he stopped them, wonder and horror blossoming all over again when he turned back to Isak. ‘How is this possible?’
‘Not easily,’ King Emin suggested before Isak could reply, ‘but perhaps it goes some way to showing the power we possess?’
As he spoke Isak raised his right hand and a burst of black light exploded from it. General Dev and King Emin both recoiled from the sudden flare of darkness that had struck with painful speed; when they opened their eyes again Isak’s fingers were wrapped around the grip of Termin Mystt. In the light of day its deep, unnatural blackness absorbed the sun’s rays so completely it looked like a tear in the fabric of the Land.
‘I hold Death’s weapon in my hand,’ Isak announced to all those watching. ‘The Dark Place could not hold me; the Menin lord could not stop me. Do you want me as your enemy?’
‘General Dev,’ Emin interjected hurriedly, ‘my army outnumbers any you could field, I am certain; we possess many Crystal Skulls and Death’s own weapon. You must see reason.’
‘I’ve told you,’ Dev said with a helpless gesture, ‘my people have sworn blood oaths! The honour of the tribe demands blood be spilled, forcing trade agreements on us as alternative to unleashing Ghenna upon us does not satisfy honour.’
— You want blood? Legana wrote on her slate in Chetse, holding it up for Emin and Dev to see while she spoke the words into Isak’s mind.
‘My people will have blood; they will fight the Menin, no matter what threats you make.’
Legana looked from the general to King Emin and back. ‘ You men and your honour — look what it does to you, ’ she said into the minds of Isak and Emin. She used her sleeve to erase the first message and quickly wrote a second.
— A duel. Amber against a Chetse. You will have blood.
‘A duel of champions?’ Emin echoed, thoughts racing. ‘A formal resolution to satisfy your honour? Even your more bloodthirsty warriors must realise the Chetse can ill-afford the huge loss and battle would mean, General Dev. This practice is ancient; the Gods themselves endorsed it before the Great War.’
‘This is some sort of trick,’ Dev muttered. ‘You planned all of this.’
‘I didn’t,’ Isak said with a crooked grin. ‘I only planned threats.’
‘This is no trick, General Dev,’ Emin said, shooting Isak a warning look, ‘but it might serve your purposes. You do not want to fight, I assume? Might your people accept such a thing? The terms would be simple enough — if your champion wins, our Menin allies turn back and we go on without them. If their champion wins, we are all granted passage. The trade terms I’m prepared to offer would not be contingent on either outcome, but the formal contract would serve to satisfy the dignity of your tribe?
‘The Chetse consider combat a noble trial, do you not? One that rests in the skill of the warriors and the will of their Gods? General Amber is a skilled fighter for certain, but he is no mage nor white-eye, just a veteran soldier. Surely you have a man to match him, so we can put it to the will of the Gods?’
General Dev was silent a long while, scrutinising the faces of all three but gleaning little from a Goddess, politician and mangled white-eye.
‘Perhaps,’ he admitted at last. ‘I must speak to my people to see if they will honour any such outcome.’
He bowed and turned away, walking back to his advisers with heavy footsteps. From somewhere high above came the mocking caw of a crow.
Amber marched out to the battle-ground as soon as dawn came. A circle was marked in the earth between the Narkang army and the far smaller Chetse force, twenty yards in diameter. Spears had been thrust into the ground at regular points around the furrowed circle and already there were soldiers standing at them, keen to get a good view of the duel to come.
‘General Amber,’ King Emin called from his right.
The Menin soldier stopped and turned to face his ally. ‘King Emin.’ He stood tall, not bowing — and realising he didn’t even feel the urge to bow. Strange. In- In my lord’s presence I always felt unworthy, blessed to be there. Now I feel nothing. The whole sham of formalities sickens me.
‘Thank you for agreeing to this,’ the king continued. ‘This is not what I wanted, but I thank you for the risk you’re taking for my cause.’
‘For your cause?’ Amber said. ‘You think that’s why I’m doing it?’
King Emin inclined his head. ‘I think you are serving your army and honouring the agreement we have made. Your motives are your own; my gratitude remains.’
Amber looked up at the sky where thick bands of cloud reached up from the eastern horizon. ‘Hope it doesn’t rain. I hate fighting in the wet.’
‘Kill ’im quickly then!’ Daken suggested with a laugh, trotting over to join the two men. He had a mug of beer in his hand and offered it to Amber, who shook his head. ‘No? Might be your last chance — I hear they’ve got a big bastard for you!’
Amber looked at the Chetse soldiers. They were all broad men, with wild sandy-brown hair; their barrel chests and thick arms made it clear how easily they could swing the long-axes each man had on his back.
‘Big, eh? Well that’s not much of a surprise.’
‘Aye, could be right there. Either way, the odds on you were lengthening all bloody night.’
‘You’re running a book?’ King Emin demanded. ‘We’re supposed to be maintaining the dignity of the situation — preserving the honour of the Chetse and the nobility of this ancient practice.’
Daken grinned. ‘Never been one for honour, didn’t you know? And this nobility thing’s harder than I realised — you might have made me a marshal of some place I’ve not managed to visit yet, but nobility? That escapes me.’ He raised a finger. ‘Soldiers, though, I get them well enough. Gossipy, money grabbing bastards, no matter what tribe they come from, and bugger me, do they like to gamble. So yeah, I’ve been running a book. I spent half the night in the Chetse camp, gauging their mood, finding out who their champion’s likely to be.. There’s a whole mixed bag of feelings about this and our hero Amber here, but when you’re offering brandy and good odds you get to make friends quick in an army camp.’
‘And what have you found out?’ Amber asked.
‘That he’s a big bugger.’
‘That’s all? It was my brandy you took there, wasn’t it?’
The white-eye’s grin widened. ‘Once I heard he was a big bugger, didn’t seem like you’d need it.’
‘By which time you’d already stolen it.’
‘Aye well, I’ve got a nose for this sort of thing.’
Amber shifted the baldric loosely slung over his shoulder so his scimitars were in a more comfortable position. ‘Did you find out anything else?’
‘Aye. Them buggers like good odds. If you lose, I might need t’ sell that marshalsy you gave me, your Majesty.’
The king regarded Daken for a long moment. ‘Maybe I’ll just let them cut bits off you instead for payment.’ He turned away from the white-eye and offered his hand to Amber. ‘I’ll leave you now; I’m sure you want to prepare alone. If you need anything, let me know. Otherwise — good luck, General.’
Amber took the man’s hand stiffly, not trusting himself to speak, but the king just turned and moved towards Doranei and Endine.
‘Any more words of advice?’ he asked Daken as he watched the king walk away.
The white-eye shrugged. ‘Pointy end goes in the other bastard. Aside from that, wouldn’t surprise me if the king had a trick up his sleeve, but don’t count on it.’ He ushered Amber to the circle, where Carel joined them and gruffly wished him luck too. Trailing along behind were Amber’s Menin guards, each of them looking about to explode as they matched glares with the Chetse, but it never went beyond that. General Dev had assured the king that his men were bound by the honour of the duel not to spill blood outside it, while Amber had threatened to execute every man in the squad of any Menin starting a fight.
Once inside the circle, Amber handed his weapons to Carel and rolled his shoulders in slow circles to loosen them up. Thanks to the efforts of Narkang’s healers, his various injuries had all healed, but still he felt stiff and old — too old to be fighting this close to dawn, whether or not he’d managed much sleep.
‘Reckon they’ve found a white-eye?’ Carel asked, conversationally. ‘Can’t have many to pick from, what with their best marching with your lot.’
‘I’ve fought white-eyes before,’ Amber said.
