“And now comes the time for the blasphemer to face his fate,” said Chaldrin, raising himself from the stone of the floor with less agility than usual. “You had best remove that loincloth, Aysayn, else will there be notice taken by those whose notice we wish to avoid.”
“I find the need distasteful, yet you are undoubtedly correct,” said Aysayn, his hands going reluctantly to the white cloth about his loins. “To be forced to go about unclothed is a great humiliation for a man, and highly insulting as well. This should not be.”
“In our domain, it is necessary that all fighters be instantly recognizable should there be difficulty during training,” said Chaldrin. “I also find it extremely demeaning, yet they must be marked in some manner, and this course changes them the least. To be consigned to these Caverns is change enough.”
I turned away from the two as Aysayn grunted his agreement, finding it unnecessary to waste words in comment. That they spoke so showed them as true males, unreasoning and concerned only with self. Had it not been so, they would have seen that their dislikes might perhaps be shared by others.
The vanquished fighter and the victor were gone from the sands in less than two hands of reckid, leaving behind an eager stir and mutter among the watchers. He who sat behind the mask of gold continued to laze negligently, yet an odd stiffness seemed to have entered his body. He gazed out upon the empty sands which had returned to their original black, unconcerned though clearly awaiting the next bout, and it came to me to wonder upon the whereabouts of the female Ladayna. I had hoped to see her there, within reach of dagger or spear; how was I to be sure of surviving the coming battle, to seek her elsewhere?
“In another moment, the spears will be set,” said Chaldrin, watching as two white-clad males carrying crescent spears walked to the center of the sand, then turned with backs to one another and paced away from each other. They continued on till they stood perhaps three gando-strides apart, then did they turn to one another again, thrust the hafts of their spears into the sand, and walk from them toward the crevasse they had entered by. They slowed as they passed the slavey who had been about setting a large oval metal shield into the sand by its rim, waited till he had completed his task, then hurried him out before them. The slave, trembling with fear at being upon the sand, required little urging to depart as quickly as possible.
“You must recall,” said Chaldrin to Aysayn, “that there is a choice before you. You and your opponent will enter the sands at the same distance from the shield, yet will only one of you find it possible to claim it. Should you try for the shield and fail to secure it, you will then be some distance from a weapon, the while your opponent will already have a weapon in his hands—the shield itself. Many an excellent fighter has gone down with the back of his head crushed in, long before a spear was in his reach. At the same time, you must understand that you will find it nearly impossible to keep your opponent from his spear even though you reach yours first.”
“Yes, yes, I am well aware of these things,” said Aysayn, interrupting what had promised to be a lecture of considerable length as he gazed out upon the sands. “The chimes are about to ring, and my presence will be required elsewhere. Before I go, there is a thing I must do.” He left the crevasse opening, strode to the dim corridor he had emerged from, reached within to grope at the right-hand wall, then returned to me. “I return this to you more easily than I took it,” said he, placing a sword in my hands. “Use it with all the skill you possess, and we may yet win free.”
His hand then came to touch my face gently, yet before I was able to speak a word in answer, the tinkling sound came which summoned fighters to the sand. Aysayn lifted a fist toward Chaldrin, kicked his discarded body-cloth aside, then trotted through the crevasse.
“He believes he is aware of his options,” muttered Chaldrin, moving to stand beside me at the opening. “To witness this battle from the seats is not the same as fighting it—which he is about to learn. We had best ask Sigurr to see that he survives the lesson.”
“Ask naught of Sigurr that you are not willing to pay a price for,” I muttered in turn, yet the male made no reply, for a second tinkling had sounded. Aysayn and his opponent had stood upon the sand, awaiting the signal to begin, and when that signal came, each moved immediately with the speed of life-threat—yet each moved differently.
Aysayn’s opponent, with hair as dark as Aysayn’s was light, raced directly for the beckoning shield, while Sigurr’s Shadow set himself for the more distant yet equally beckoning crescent spear—upon the other’s side. Those watching from above gasped out their surprise and delight, yet Chaldrin made a sound of disgust.
“Had he spoken to me of his intentions, the fool, I would have brought the greater distance to his attention,” said he, a bitterness in his voice. “He is quicker than most, that I’ll grant him, yet is he scarcely quick enough to keep his opponent from the second spear. Watch.”
Just as the male spoke, so it came to be. Aysayn’s opponent, divining that something was afoot from the exclamations of the watchers, glanced across to see where the Shadow ran. With scarcely a falter in his stride, he scooped up the shield without slowing, set it upon his left arm as he ran, then made directly for the crescent spear which was to have been Aysayn’s. Aysayn reached the spear which had been his goal, tore it from the sand as he whirled, then ran on no more than five paces before slowing in defeat. The second male, not yet having reached the other spear, had nevertheless run to intercept Aysayn’s line to the spear. He side-stepped and backed in the treacherous sand nearly losing his footing, yet succeeding in keeping the shield and his body toward Aysayn. He had not yet reached the direct line Aysayn would have taken to the second spear, yet had Aysayn pressed the matter, the second would have reached the line before Aysayn reached the spear. I raised one arm to move the heat-dampened hair which clung to my back, and Chaldrin stirred where he stood.
“Hear them howl for blood,” said he, referring to the growing frenzy of the watchers. “They now count Aysayn done, for his opponent all but has both spear and shield in his possession. Should it be Sigurr’s will, they shall find themselves mistaken.”
I, too, felt highly doubtful upon the subject of Aysayn’s position, and my fist tightened about the hilt of the sword I held. The dishonor I had been given might be washed away only in the blood of my enemies, no matter whether I survived or no. Should Aysayn die before full battle was joined by we who waited, there would undoubtedly be no battle.
“The spear is now his,” said Chaldrin, his observation coming but heartbeats before the second male wrapped fist about haft. Aysayn had closed and swung his spear in graceful arcs, attempting the head, feet and arms of his opponent, yet the presence of the shield had shortened and blocked his attempts, allowing the second male to put groping hand to weapon. With a single pull the spear was freed of the sand and lowered, and then it was Aysayn who knocked thrusts away and backed in haste, too concerned with defense to mount an adequate offense. The bodies of the two males glistened nearly as much as those of the two who had rolled in the sand, their grips were precarious upon their weapons by cause of that, and those who watched screamed themselves into frothing madness. The glare of the many torches fought with the natural darkness of the cavern, much as those upon the sands fought.