Rustan looked at the blade and it glowed in response, throwing myriad colors of light on his face, which seemed different, exalted somehow. Kyra’s heart pounded an unsteady rhythm in her chest. She was almost afraid of what he would say next, though she didn’t know why.
“It is strange, how we interpret things,” said Rustan softly. “My mother once told me that she would acknowledge me to the world. I did not believe her, not until today. I lay no claim on her katari but that of kinship. I am Shirin’s son.”
Chapter 31
Deer and Snake
It was a while before Unduni could bring any order to the assembly in Sikandra Hall. When Rustan announced that he was Shirin Mam’s son, the elders of Kali leaped up as one and started shouting at him. Tamsyn advanced on the young Marksman, eyeing Shirin Mam’s blade. She stopped short when Barkav blocked her way, his face ominous. Tiny Unduni rushed between them before they could draw their kataris, and implored them to sit. She swooped down on the elders of Kali, scolding and pleading alternately until they too subsided.
At last she returned to her place at the center of the hall. She mopped her brow with a sleeve and said hoarsely, “If I have to shout one more time, I will lose my voice. You will have to continue without me.” She reached for one of the cups on the tray, and quaffed its contents in a single gulp.
The hall went silent. Rustan sat down and sheathed the transparent blade, his face calm.
Kyra stared at him in shock, unable to believe what she had heard. Rustan couldn’t . . . he just couldn’t be Shirin Mam’s son.
Could he? Now that she thought about it, his eyes, his chin, his brow, even his manner of speaking—they were all rather like Shirin Mam’s. No wonder she had felt she could trust him, almost from the start. Why had she not seen the resemblance before?
Because it was impossible. Markswomen did not take mates. They did not have children. It was against the Kanun. Why hadn’t Rustan told her?
Never once in all their time together had he given her a hint of the connection. She had spoken to him of Shirin Mam, given him the terrible news of his mother’s death, and yet he had kept the secret close to his heart. It hurt that he had not confided in her. Although she understood that it was not entirely his secret to share.
Rustan met her gaze and frowned. Focus, that frown said. Now is not the time. She tore her gaze away from him and back to Unduni.
The mediator spoke, her voice uneven: “What—what the young Marksman has declared is unbelievable, but it is not a topic of discussion for the clan assembly. The day passes. There is a matter still to be dealt with. Do you, Kyra Veer, still wish to challenge your Mahimata?”
“I do,” said Kyra, and the two words fell like the funeral tolling of a bell in the deep silence of the hall.
“So be it,” said Unduni heavily. “It has been many decades since a duel was fought in the clan assembly, and I will repeat the rules for the benefit of those present. There will be no use of the Mental Arts. No weapons may be employed except the kataris of the duelists. No one may interfere or influence the course of the duel in any way, on pain of exile. The duel is not deemed finished until one of the combatants is dead or mortally wounded. The katari of the vanquished will pass into the custody of the victor.” She took a deep breath and raised her hands in benediction. “May your blades be true this day.”
She backed away, waving her staff at the men and women gathered around. They withdrew to the edges of the huge hall, clearing a space in the middle for Kyra and Tamsyn. The scene took on a dreamlike quality in the light of the late afternoon sun.
Tamsyn dropped into the hidden snake stance. “Are you ready, little deer?” she asked almost tenderly, stretching an arm out. Her blade flashed bloodred in the hollow of her outstretched palm, and for a moment Kyra felt the fluttery wings of fear beat against her face. The hall went dark and she thought she would faint.
The words of her teacher (which one?) came back to her: “Be aware of who you are. Know yourself and your surroundings. Anticipate her when you can.”
I know you, Tamsyn. You have taught me and hated me for years. I know every move that you can make.
Kyra stood motionless in the middle of the space that had been cleared for the duel, retreating inward until it seemed as if she was the only person in the hall. There was no Tamsyn, no Unduni, and no audience of excited people, shoving against one another in order to get a better view of the duel. There was only herself, and the warmth of the katari in her hand. It was in this moment that she finally understood what Rustan had been trying to teach her: that stillness which was at the center of all things, life flowing around it like an endless stream. Kyra sought the calm at the core of the tumultuous universe, and welcomed it into her being.
Tamsyn cocked her head. “Come come, little deer. It is time to take your stance. Or do you regret your rashness and wish to surrender? I will be merciful if you make a public apology. I will let you live. I may even welcome you back to the caves of Kali.”
But Kyra stayed where she was, still as a rock.
Tamsyn clicked her tongue impatiently and began to circle Kyra. The blade in her hand glowed brighter. Still Kyra did not move.
Tamsyn darted forward, quick as a cobra to strike down her prey. But her katari slashed through empty air. She spun around, her face a mixture of rage and astonishment. Kyra was standing a few feet away. She had slipped out of range at the last moment.
Tamsyn’s teeth flashed. “You have learned a few things, little deer. Good. This will be more interesting than I imagined.”
Kyra did not allow Tamsyn’s voice to penetrate the shield of silence around her. She concentrated on seeing, with her inner eye, the flow of movements that made Tamsyn such a feared Markswoman. When Tamsyn turned her back on her, as if to walk away in boredom, she knew it was a diversion. She held herself still, listening for the minute breath of air that would tell her when Tamsyn threw her blade. When it came, she danced aside so quickly that those watching would have sworn she appeared to be in two places at once.
Tamsyn’s katari clattered across the floor and Kyra launched herself at her foe, knowing that this was the moment to attack.