“Jalav, I find myself nearly at a loss for words,” said Aysayn, something of upset to be heard in his tone. “You spoke of how easily the blade was taken from you—you must pardon me, wench, for I recall no such easy accomplishment. When it was done, even Chaldrin spoke of the number of times you nearly had me. Your skill has not been bested by any swordsman I have yet come upon.”
“And even were you the loss and hazard you now believe yourself,” put in Chaldrin, “think you that one blade less would be to our benefit? We are scarcely likely to live through our attempt, and I am sorely tempted to lock you in slave chains to insure your survival, yet do I feel that survival as a slave would be worse than death for you. We but offer you your freedom again, wench, in one manner or another.”
I continued to gaze upon the golden-masked male for a moment, then I turned to look upon the two who stood behind me. Their eyes were filled with the calm of truth, and it was not difficult to nod in agreement.
“Very well,” said I, looking first upon Chaldrin and then upon Aysayn. “As you merely seek a death with dignity, I will raise my sword beside yours. And should Mida grant me more than a moment’s use of it, we may not march to the final darkness unescorted.”
“I do not mean to march there under any circumstances save that Sigurr himself comes before me and demands it,” said Aysayn with a short laugh. “It is barely possible that Ladayna means to best me with no more than her concept of a superior warrior.”
“Even were that so,” said Chaldrin, a quick grimace crossing his features, “it is scarcely likely to be all that is attempted. I feel sure that Jalav will have considerably more than the moment she wishes.”
“Undoubtedly we will all have the same,” said Aysayn, looking more closely upon Chaldrin. “And should you wish your own way with the foe, brother, it would be wise of you to rest a few reckid. Your strength has not yet returned in its entirety.”
“For which I will take Sigurr to task when I face him,” sighed Chaldrin, stepping to one side to lower himself carefully to the stone of the floor. “As I mean to stand in the cause of his rightful Shadow, his continuing anger with me should clearly have been withheld for the time.”
“Continuing anger is rarely withheld, even for a moment,” said Aysayn, and then his eyes came to me. “Truth to tell, I had expected naught save anger from this wench here. Though we meant no insult, our words and actions with her were rather abrupt. Do you feel no burning, justifiable anger toward us, Jalav?”
“For what reason would I waste thought and strength in anger against you?” I asked, unconcerned with the gleam of amusement which lurked in his eyes. “The two of you are merely male, and therefore unable to do other than as you do. Should you ever find yourselves among my Midanna, you will be shown the proper matter of things.”
Aysayn had seemed prepared to find deeper amusement in whatever words I spoke, yet even when I had turned from him to look again upon the fighting sands, his laughter had not rung out. Chaldrin, where he leaned against the stone off the wall, chuckled deeply.
It took no more than another hand of reckid before the male Chaldrin had favored saw to his last opponent. The matter was decided with swords, for neither had been able to reach the waiting crescent spears. Though the first male eliminated had merely been wounded, the second was run through the heart by his opponent when he attempted to press with too much vigor. The body collapsed to the black sand with bedlam sounding all about, and the victor stood with arms and sword held high, his bare, sweat-glistened body proud beneath the acclamation. Then, even before the screaming approval had faded, the male threw his sword to the sand, turned his back upon the fevered throng, and made his way back toward a corridor recess to our left. He paid no mind to the slavies who saw to the wounded and dead beneath the bright glare of torches, yet the slavies shrank back till he had passed on his way.
“He is one of those few fighters I have enlisted to stand with us,” said Chaldrin from where he sat, speaking of the victor he had not had to see claim his victory. “He is an excellent fighter with great potential, and is more than willing to risk his life to regain his freedom.”
“Indeed,” said Aysayn in a thoughtful manner. “He is indeed an excellent fighter. For what reason was he condemned to the Caverns?”
“That is a question we do not ask of those who come,” said Chaldrin, his voice empty of all emphasis. “If we are told, by others or the man himself, the information is allowed to slip from memory. We are concerned only with that which a man does here, not with that which was once done elsewhere.”
“I see,” said Aysayn, a quiet acceptance in the pair of words. No further was said upon the matter, and the Shadow and I returned our attention to the sand.
The two remaining combatants, one living, one gone to the final darkness, were removed from the black sand, along with every one of the weapons. The weapons were taken up by white-clad males, the slavies being forbidden their touching, and then two unclad fighters appeared to the ringing of small, thin-sounding bells. These two had not fought previously, yet their bodies were glistening bright, more so than the sweat of exertion would account for. The two males carried swords, yet they halted perhaps two gando-strides from each other, plunged the points of their swords into the sand, then put themselves into the sand. The two rolled about in the black sea of sand till they were well covered, then did they rise to their feet, reclaim their weapons, and stand at the alert without closing with each other. I knew not why the battle had not begun and was about to remark upon the matter, when the many torches about the Cavern began being covered.
“Watch closely, wench,” said Chaldrin, remaining where he had seated himself. “You will soon see the reason why Treglin and I were able to follow you into the darkness when you first attempted escape.”
I turned from him to look again upon the sands, and felt my frown as the torches, by the hand, were covered with solid metal brackets. The heavy darkness closed in quickly, and only then did Chaldrin’s words come clear. Rather than melt into the darkness, the two males and the black sand they stood upon now glowed as though torches burned within and below. The swords, too, I now saw, were marked with single lines of glowing yellow-white upon each of their sides, from broad hilt to pointed tip. Only the sharpened edges were unmarked, deadly hazards in unseen dark.
“When exposed to the light of torches,” said Chaldrin, “the black sand becomes the Shining Sands, easily seen in deep darkness. That thick mane of yours was well-enough dusted so that Treglin and I were able to follow you with ease. Those two who battle out there will not find a comparable ease, no matter that they are clearly marked for each other.”
I studied the two upon the sand as Chaldrin spoke, and realized that he spoke the truth. Midanna warriors are taught to know the length and breadth of their blades as well as they know the same of their arms. yet the males who now closed with one another to the encouraging screams of unseen onlookers had not been taught the same. They swung clumsily at one another, as though unsure of whether or not the strokes would find their targets, unsure of whether they stood too near or too far, unsure whether they, themselves, would be touched. They moved in hesitation in a small circle, their glowing forms touched with odd gaps where the sand had fallen away, and then one had further sand removed from him by the tip of his opponent’s sword. A gap appeared across the chest of the male, from left shoulder to right ribs, and the male so struck shuddered and staggered backward away from the single glowing line which had touched him with pain. The other, encouraged despite the lack of visible lifeblood, pursued the first and struck at him again, this time attempting a head blow. The blow was more a crushing than a cut, and the first went down beneath it, to return the glowing sand from whence he had taken it. The second turned somewhat and plunged his sword into the first, and the screaming shouts again crescendoed into chaos. As the remaining glowing form raised his arms in victory, the torches began to be unbracketed again.