his mind, Ash could tell. The man had been holding them back ever since Ash had first returned to the monastery of Sato with an apprentice in tow.
'I'm just surprised, that's all,' said Kosh at last. 'I didn't think to see you with an apprentice after all this time. And they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks.' His tone changed, became softer. 'Has time healed, at last?'
Ash looked sidelong at him, the answer in his eyes.
Kosh nodded. His own eyes turned away and squinted into the distance – perhaps seeing his own memories of that day neither of them wished to speak of.
Long ago, Ash had found that he could not bring to mind his son's face unless he recalled it in those last moments of the boy's life. It was the irony of memory, he thought: to see clearly only those moments most painful of all.
He could see his son's features now, more like his mother's than his own. His son, his battle-squire in training, just fourteen years old, and awkward in his heavy leather half-armour, carrying the spare spears and with the water bags hanging from him. The boy struggling towards him over the dying men and corpses scattered on their position, on a small hill to the far left of the main battle line, tripping in blind fear. Ash's words were lost in the deafening tumult of the fighting that raged around them. His son's young face suddenly gone white as he turned back towards the steaming cavalry thundering into the rear of their tattered ranks without warning. Men of General Tu's, their own men of the People's Army, gone over to the side of the overlords in exchange for a fortune in gold.
Ash had realized in that moment that the battle was lost to them. He had known too that his son was dead even before a rider swept low in his saddle and hacked his blade against the boy's neck, taking his head clean off in one blow… so that one moment the boy was there, the next only a horror to be relived in the mind forever afterwards, a thing falling lifeless, to be lost amongst the other dead on the field.
Ash would have gone berserk if Kosh, and his own squire, had not clubbed the strength from him and dragged him away from the boy's body and out of the fray, their entire left flank already scattering like seedsails on the wind. From Osh's position the signal for retreat waved unnoticed, for it was already a full rout. As they fell back through one of the ravines cutting across the field of action, the general had placed himself and his bodyguard in the path of the main body of horse pursuing them, and there fought a stubborn retreat while the rest of his men, three thousand or so, ran without heed for anything else but their skins.
At the time, most had thought themselves lucky to escape alive. But Ash had never considered it so.
A bell was now ringing. It might have been ringing for some minutes before either of them paid heed to it.
Ash and Kosh stirred and looked back towards the monastery.
'Is it breakfast?'
'We had breakfast two hours ago.'
'So what is it, I wonder?'
But Ash had already risen, beckoning Kosh after him with a jerk of his head.
*
Nico stood with a growing self-consciousness as the bell continued clamouring, while the assorted men of the monastery gathered in the courtyard around them. No one had asked for the bell to be rung – neither Olson nor Baracha – but another Rshun, his name unknown to Nico, upon seeing what was about to take place, had grinned and set himself the task of beckoning everyone to witness the afternoon's sport.
Every Rshun in the monastery seemed to have turned out in the open space. Since it was a Foolsday, and was their day off, they stood chattering and laughing, the warmth of the late-summer sun drawing easy smiles.
Aleas stood ten steps away, with Baracha hissing in his ear. The young man appeared no happier about their present circumstances than was Nico.
Just then, Ash came striding through the gateway with Kosh by his side, the two walking with the careful gait of men who were already somewhat drunk. Wonderful, thought Nico. Now I get to make a fool of myself in front of the old man too.
Ash stopped and surveyed the scene before him. The swollen lip of Aleas, his chin still stained with dried blood; Baracha hovering over him; Olson's expression sombre but his eyes amused; the open ground between the two apprentices, and the collection of items lying there – two rolls of fishing twine, each fitted with a hook and silver twists of foil, and beside them two large weighted nets.
Ash said nothing as he joined his apprentice, and Nico resolved not to address the old farlander until the man spoke first. Thus they stood side by side like a pair of mutes, the Rshun muttering amongst themselves all around. Aleas was shaking his head, but Baracha scowled, then hissed in his face. He pulled his apprentice towards the equipment strewn on the ground, the blood flowing again down Aleas's chin.
'It's all a nonsense,' Nico blurted out at last to his master.
From the corner of his eye, he could see the old man nod his head.
'See it through,' he said.
Olson raised his hands to quieten the gathered audience. 'Step forward,' he commanded the two apprentices.
Both young men stepped up to the fishing items; Aleas studied them or the ground they lay upon. Nico studied Aleas instead, but the other wouldn't meet his eye.
'We have a way of dealing with feuds here at Sato,' announced Olson. 'You will settle your differences, both of you, in this the old way, for it was inspired by wisdom.'
Olson gestured to the equipment. 'You will each choose one of these items. Armed with that, you will make your way to the chain of pools at the very top of the valley. There you will keep fishing until noon, catching as many as you can, of whatever size you can, and then you will return promptly. You have three hours. If you are not back by the ringing of the bell, then you will be disqualified. He who brings with him the most fish to display in this courtyard at that time will be declared the winner. Your dispute will then be settled. Do you both understand?'
Aleas nodded grudgingly. Nico followed his example a moment later.
'Good. Now make your choices.'
Nico looked to the old farlander for guidance. Ash blinked, giving nothing away.
Fishing? he thought. Maybe they really do just mean fishing.
But, at the same time, it had to be more than that, and the interest of the other Rshun made this clearly so. The apprentice was the mark of the master. A public contest between these two was a public contest between Baracha and Ash.
Nico wished he could say as much, to tell the two grown men to go and settle their differences between them, and to leave him out of it. Instead, he remained silent. After all, he considered, I may actually have a chance at besting Aleas here.
With a sudden renewed focus of mind, Nico found his gaze roaming over the items before his feet. Fishing twine or net? he pondered. He would catch more fish with the net, but it would be heavy, by the looks of it, weighed down by a number of stone weights attached around its edges. He would first have to run all the way to the top of the valley carrying that load across his back, and then set out on his return early in order to make it back in time for the ringing of the bell. No, he was hardly strong enough for that. He would waste too much time. Besides, Nico knew how to fish. A net like that would scare away all the fish after the first haul. So instead, he knelt and scooped up the small ball of twine.
He glanced to Ash again. Almost imperceptibly the old farlander nodded.
Aleas made his choice, too. Nico felt a brief feeling of satisfaction, for the other youth had chosen the heavy net.
'Remember,' said Olson, 'he who returns here with the most fish, within the given time, is the winner. Now go.'
A chorus of jeers and yells rose among the Rshun, as Aleas tossed the net across his shoulders and sprinted for the gateway. After a moment of hesitation, Nico set off in pursuit.
*
It was a hot, sweaty climb. Nico jogged until his legs ached but still he maintained his pace, gaining some encouragement early on as he overtook Aleas on the stony track, the young man already slowing under the weight of the net slung on his back.
'I'll keep some fish for you!' he shouted over his shoulder, but Aleas didn't answer, just kept his head down, his legs pumping.
