Age of Swords (The Legends of the First Empire #2)

“That’s the idea.”

The boy crossed to the seaward side of the bedroom and continued opening shutters. The kid was still skinny as a bag of bones, but he did have better color. And for the first time, Raithe noticed a fine haze of hair sprouting on his chin and upper lip. A pang of disappointment stabbed him as he realized he’d never see the man this kid would become. Despite his earlier reservations, Tesh had grown on him, as had the idea of shaping his future. Tesh wanted Raithe to teach him to fight, but Raithe wanted to teach the kid so much more—all the things Herkimer had failed at. “I suppose you’ll choose a new Shield, then. As keenig, you’ll need a real Shield.”

“You are a real Shield.”

“You know what I mean.”

Raithe was going to die in a few hours, what difference did it make? “Listen, you’re the only Dureyan besides me. Sure, you might be a bit on the small side now, but you’re good stock. You’ll grow, fatten up, build muscle, train hard…harder than any of them, and one day you’ll be the best warrior in the world, mostly because you’re Dureyan.” He picked up a boot and pulled it on. “But…” He hesitated, stomping his foot into place.

“But what?”

“I can’t teach you what you want to know. No human can.”

“You’re the God Killer. Of course you can. You—”

“And I told you I was lucky. I survived by sheer accident, and because Malcolm has a fixation with rocks and people’s heads. The point is, there isn’t a human alive that can teach you how to fight as well as they do.” He shook his head. “The way you learn how to kill someone is to have them teach you. You learn how they fight. Discover their strengths and weaknesses. Uncover their secrets, and never let them see yours. You want to learn how to kill Fhrey? You learn from them. And yes, they may hide their weaknesses, but you have to see through their deceptions.”

Tesh opened his mouth to object, but Raithe cut the boy off. “And don’t tell me you don’t like them,” he said when Tesh started to frown. “Did you like your village? Did you like the rocks and snakes? Did you like freezing in winter because there wasn’t enough dung to burn? Did you like going days without food? Did you like drinking that muddy water that tasted of metal? I know I didn’t. And no one I knew who was Dureyan ever has. But we still got up every day, still drank that water, dug those rocks, and burned that dung, because Dureyans are survivors, and we don’t complain. So, if you want to learn how to kill elves, you learn from them. Do what you’re told. Listen to what they say. That’s how you beat them.”

“What are elves?” Tesh asked.

“They’re what you want to kill.”

The boy looked puzzled.

“Do you think they deserve to be called gods?”

Tesh smiled. “I have been watching them, going to the practices, seeing what they do. They have different fighting styles. Did you know that? Each of them is a master in a different skill. Sebek uses two small swords and a very aggressive attack. Tekchin relies on a long, light blade and uses a lot of footwork, very complicated. Eres is all about throwing things, spears and javelins mostly. Anwir uses a sling, a net, and a cleve that he spins. Grygor uses a gigantic sword, big even for him. In close quarters, he grabs it partway up the blade, where he dulled the edges for a handgrip. That means he can use the blade as a sword and spear. And Nyphron uses a sword-and-shield combination, sort of like you.” The kid thought a moment. “If I join the practice sessions, let them teach me, I could learn each of the different techniques.”

“Good plan.”

The boy watched Raithe pull his other boot on. “You are going to kill him?”

“We just went over this.”

“It’s just…he’s really big.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“But he carries it easy. He’s got great balance, and he’s naffing light on his feet.”

“Naffing?”

The boy shrugged. “My father used to say it a lot.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s what he used to do to my mother first thing after coming home from the High Spear, but I guess it means different things at different times because he used to say our sheep were lousy naffs, and Haden Woolman was a crazy naffer.” The boy paused, thought a moment. “Then again, maybe not.”

Raithe laughed; it felt good. Probably the last time. The kid continued to impress him. Not with his mastery of language, but the fact that he was dead-on about Udgar. How can a kid his age see so much? He has a real gift. Maybe he really could be a great warrior, assuming he lived long enough.

Raithe stood up, slamming his heels into place. He grabbed up his leigh mor and looked for the piss pot. “Where’s…” he started, when he saw Tesh leaning out the window so far that his feet were coming up off the floor. “What are you looking at?”

“You can see the docks from here. One of those Dherg ships is coming in.”

—

The Gula keenig had already arrived. Raithe spotted Udgar and his lieutenants in the courtyard. That’s where the fight would be held, a good enclosed space where spectators could sit up on the walls and watch. They weren’t scheduled to begin blows until midday, but already the parapets were filling. The big event had arrived.

This was the inevitable fate of all Dureyans, try as they might to avoid it. The Mynogan couldn’t be denied their blood. Unlike his father, who offered sacrifices before each fight, Raithe had little use for the Dureyan gods of war. Yet it seemed they had a use for him.

His death would have a grand audience, at least. How many could say that, unless they were the guest of honor at a hanging, beheading, or burning. A lot of people died in unremarkable ways, choking while eating, frozen on a hillside, or drowned in a river. When he and his father had crossed to the west, Raithe was certain he’d exit life because of a stupid accident. He would break his leg somewhere in the wilderness, and being alone, he’d slowly starve. Death by Udgar was better. Udgar was a professional. He’d make it quick.

Once again, Raithe recalled the words of his father, the worst that can happen is you’ll die. Might even be a step up. Everyone died. Raithe had already outlived his whole clan.

He hadn’t made a career out of killing like his father and brothers, but he wondered if this one battle would grant him entrance to Alysin. It sounded nice, but if that meant he’d spend eternity with the likes of his brothers, then Rel would be good enough. That’s where his mother and sister would be anyway. What kind of mess is the afterlife when vicious killers are rewarded through eternity for being cruel? His mother and sister were just as brave, just as courageous, and never vicious. They didn’t kill anyone, and for that, the pair were relegated to a lesser reward. Doesn’t make sense.

Since there didn’t seem any point in waiting until midday, Raithe walked out of the lodge. He intended to challenge Udgar right then, just to get it over with, but that was before the three women entered the gate.