The moment the grip weakened, Hasik had his hand free, cutting off the mute’s cry with a punch to the throat. He surged, reversing the pin, and saw Abban drawing near the tent flap.
“Not this time, khaffit!” Hasik cried, throwing the knife.
Abban threw his arms up, but the blade was not aimed for his head or chest. It sank into the thigh of his good leg, and Abban fell again with a scream.
“Father!” Fahki cried, rushing to him.
“Flee now,” Abban told him. “Find warriors and tell them Hasik has killed the Sharum Ka.”
“I won’t leave you,” Fahki said, squatting to try and haul Abban to his feet. Hot blood ran down his leg but Abban grit his teeth and planted his foot, leaning heavily on his camel crutch. He cried for help, but in the chaos outside, no one heard him through the heavy canvas walls.
Hasik and Earless were on their feet now, trading blows meant to cripple and kill. Earless was holding his own—barely. Both men’s faces were bloodied and beginning to swell. One of Earless’ eyes was filling with blood, and Hasik’s nose was flat against his cheek, broken.
But he was smiling. Their army was destroyed, Jayan dead, and Hasik fighting for his life, but the brutal eunuch was smiling like Abban had never seen.
Abban tried to take a step, but even with Fahki to support him, the pain was unbearable.
Hasik managed to get inside Earless’ guard, catching him by the ears. He pulled hard as he drove the crown of his helmet into Earless’ face. His helmet spike tore a jagged hole in the mute’s forehead.
The giant shoved Hasik back hard, then gave a cry, clutching at his head.
“Looking for this?” Hasik laughed, holding up the ear he had torn free. “Now you truly are earless!”
The giant came back in, angry for the first time. His punches would have knocked out a camel, but Hasik batted them aside easily, getting in close and heel-kicking him in the stomach. Earless was knocked back into the central pole of the tent, cracking it in half and bringing the canvas roof down.
Abban grit his teeth and moved for the exit with all his strength. One step. Two. But it was not enough as Hasik appeared from the tangle of canvas.
“Behind me,” Abban said, gripping Fahki’s arm and pulling him out of Hasik’s path. “It’s me he wants.”
“I won’t let him—” Fahki began, moving to stand before his father.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Abban cut him off. “You are no match for him.”
“You should listen to your father.” Hasik was still smiling. “Run and leave your father to inevera.” His eyes flicked to Fahki’s spear. “Or I will fuck you with your own spear.”
“As Shar’Dama Ka did to you?” Abban asked.
The smile fell from Hasik’s face, and Abban thrust his camel crutch out, pressing the release that sprang a six-inch electrum from its tip. The blade was poisoned with tunnel asp venom, the deadliest poison known.
But Hasik moved faster than he thought possible, grabbing the camel foot at the base of the crutch and turning the blade aside. He yanked it from Abban’s hands, sending the khaffit sprawling, and broke the crutch over his knee.
Fahki gave a cry and charged, thrusting with his spear. His spearwork was fine, but he was only a boy, and Hasik one of the deadliest killers alive. He knocked the tip aside with the bladed half of the crutch, stomping hard on the side of Fahki’s knee. The boy screamed and dropped to one knee, using his spear for support.
Hasik kicked the spear from under him, guiding Fahki’s fall with kicks and whips of the crutch shaft to put the boy on his back.
Then Hasik thrust the electrum blade of the crutch up Fahki’s ass. The poison worked fast. Fahki began to convulse wildly, his mouth white with foam.
“You took my cock, but I still fuck in my way,” Hasik said to Abban as he stalked in. He was smiling again.
There was a rustle of canvas and a toneless cry as Earless freed himself from the tangle and tackled Hasik about the legs.
It was a momentary advantage only. Hasik had both arms free, and even as they fell he was driving extended knuckles into the mute’s eyes and neck. He landed heavier blows as they hit the floor, and at last the mute lay still.
“There will be no coming back from this,” Abban warned as Hasik rose for the final time. “The Damajah will find you. Your life is over.”
Hasik laughed. “Life? What life? I have nothing, khaffit. You have seen to that. Nothing but daily humiliation.”
He smiled. “Humiliation, and my revenge.”
“Then kill me, and have done,” Abban said.
Hasik laughed, drawing back a fist. “Kill you? Oh, khaffit. I’m not going to kill you.”