Part 27 (1/2)
”You think he's been thinking that far ahead?”
”I caught him watching you watching him, just before he won his third bout. I think if you saw an opening, he wanted you to see it.”
”Why me?”
”Because you were the favourite.”
”One of the favourites.”
”Not to anyone who knew what was going on. You're vain, Tal, and show everything you have when you win. You don't hold back. That boy has a complete inventory of your moves. You have no idea what he's capable of; be careful.”
Tal sat back and then said, ”Thank you. You may have saved me another time.”
”Well, at least this time I may have saved you from embarra.s.sment, not from death.”
”No, I think not.”
”What?”
”Look at him.”
Pasko turned and regarded the young Kes.h.i.+an, who sat quietly watching Talon from under hooded eyes.
Talon said, ”Call it intuition or my b.u.mp of trouble, but unless I'm sadly mistaken, he means to kill me today.”
The semi-final round was conducted with more pomp and ceremony than the earlier rounds. Many members of the royal family were in attendance, as well as most of the important n.o.bility.
When the combatants for the first match were announced, Tal felt his stomach flip. Campaneal and Vahardak would go first, and Tal and the Kes.h.i.+an afterwards. He realized that as the favourite, the Masters were saving his bout for last. Even so, he wished to get it over with.
Neither he nor the Kes.h.i.+an watched the first match, each of them content to sit in opposite corners of the room. Vahardak and Campaneal had done the same, each taking a corner with their retainers. The Count was accompanied by at least five servants, while Lieutenant Campaneal had a batsman and a sergeant of the Olasko Household Guard with him. Tal had Pasko, and the Kes.h.i.+an sat alone.
From the droning voices in the distance, Tal could tell that the Master who announced the final matches to take place in the court was indulging himself in as grand a presentation as he could muster and, from the accompanying cheers, the crowd seemed eager to savour every word.
Pasko said, ”I've been asking around. This lad came from nowhere, it's a fact. None of the other Kes.h.i.+ans I've encountered have ever heard of him; seems odd that a youngster with his skills wouldn't have made some sort of name for himself down in Kesh.”
”Yes, it is odd, isn't it?”
”I don't know if he's going to try to kill you or not, m'lord, but there is something very strange about him. He hasn't moved in an hour.”
”Perhaps he's asleep.”
Pasko said, ”Then he has nerves of iron.”
A shout from the hall informed Tal that the bout was over and he watched the door to see who entered and how they carried themselves. A minute later the door flew open and in strode Count Vahardak, clutching his left arm. Blood ran through his fingers. One of his attendants was trying to console him. ”-a close thing, my lord. It could have gone either way, I'm certain. It was . . . luck, nothing more.”
The Count appeared unwilling to be mollified and just barked, ”Stop talking and bind this d.a.m.n thing.”
Into the room came Lieutenant Campaneal, a slight smile of satisfaction on his face. He glanced first at Tal then at the Kes.h.i.+an, as if saying silently, I will see one of you in the palace tonight, I will see one of you in the palace tonight, but he kept silent. He acknowledged each of them with a slight nod, then went to say something to Count Vahardak. but he kept silent. He acknowledged each of them with a slight nod, then went to say something to Count Vahardak.
A Master of the Court entered and announced, ”Talwin Hawkins, Kakama of Kesh, places, please.”
The Kes.h.i.+an carried his sword wrapped in a long black cloth, rather than in a scabbard. He knelt and unrolled it, and Tal's eyes widened at the sight of it. ”That's not the longsword he's been using. What is it?”
Pasko swore. ”It's a katana; katana; they're used either one-or-two-handed and they are sharper than a razor. You don't see many of them around, because the bad ones can't stand against armour, and the good ones are too expensive for any but the richest n.o.ble to buy. But for cutting flesh, they're wicked. He's about to show you a style of fighting you've never encountered.” they're used either one-or-two-handed and they are sharper than a razor. You don't see many of them around, because the bad ones can't stand against armour, and the good ones are too expensive for any but the richest n.o.ble to buy. But for cutting flesh, they're wicked. He's about to show you a style of fighting you've never encountered.”
”Talk to me, Pasko. What must I do?”
As they rose to answer the call of the Master, Pasko said, ”Whatever you saw from Nakor in his open-handed fighting, think of that. Misdirection and sudden strikes. You'll probably only get one look and then he's going to be coming at you. If there was ever a time to chose luck over skill, this is it.”
Tal took a slow, deep breath, then let it out as they walked to the door leading to the main court.
They entered to loud applause and cheers, and each man was directed to an end of the room. Markers had been placed at the corners of the largest rectangle on the floor, so Tal knew he had a lot of room to work with.
When the din quieted, the Master in charge spoke. ”My lords, ladies and gentlemen. This is our final match of the Tournament of the Masters' Court. The winner of this bout will fight tonight in the palace for the Office of the Golden Sword and be acknowledged as the greatest swordsman in the world. ”On my left, I give you Kakama, from the village of Li-Pe, in the Empire of Great Kesh.”
The applause was thunderous, Kakama was the long shot who had earned his way in from the first round, and many who had no other cause to cheer him on did so for that reason alone.
”To my right, I give you Talwin Hawkins, Squire of Morgan River and Bellcastle, Baronet of Silverlake of the Kingdom of the Isles.”
He motioned for the two men to come to the marks on the floor which showed their starting positions. Then he said, ”My lord, master Kakama, this is a fight to first blood. Obey the instructions of the masters and defend yourself at all times. Upon my command . . . begin!”
Tal saw Kakama take a single step back, raising the sword with his right hand, his left hand outstretched, palm outward. Then suddenly he took a spinning step forward, much like a flying kick Nakor had shown him several times, his left hand coming up to join his right and the sword swirling around in an arc at incredible speed, aimed at Tal's head.
Tal ducked and rolled, a move not seen in the tournament before, but one common to ale-house brawls. Several men in the audience hooted and laughed, but most cheered, for it was clear that the Kes.h.i.+an had intended to take Tal's head from his shoulders.
”Kakama!” cried the Master of the Court. ”First blood only!”
The Kes.h.i.+an ignored the instruction and with three little steps made a running charge at Tal. Tal didn't retreat, but leapt forward himself, his own blade coming around as quickly as he could execute the blow.
Steel rang out against steel and the crowd gasped, for even the slowest among them realized that this was no exhibition match, but that they were watching two men attempting to kill one another.
”Halt!” came the command from the senior judge, but neither man listened. Kakama spun again and levelled a blow that would have gutted Tal had he paused to obey the command.
Tal shouted, ”Pasko, dirk!”
Pasko pulled his dirk from his belt and when Kakama lunged again and Tal leapt away, Pasko threw the dirk to him. Tal caught it in his left hand and spun away, as Kakama came at him again.
The type of fighting the Kes.h.i.+an employed was alien to Tal, but he hoped the use of the duelling dirk in his left hand, to block his opponent's blade or to use in close if he got inside his guard, would rebalance the contest.
The Masters were calling to the gallery for men to come and stop the contest, which was now clearly beyond the scope of the rules. No one came forth. The idea of trying to separate two of the deadliest fighters on the island didn't appeal to anyone.
Tal thought he heard someone call for crossbows, but couldn't spare the attention to be sure. Kakama was coming at him hard, again, and this time Tal had run out of room in which to dodge.
He barely saved his life with the dirk, for Kakama's overhead slash suddenly became a sideways blow to the neck with a twist of the wrists. Tal's hand came up in reflex and he caught the blade just enough to parry the blow. That gave him an opportunity and he lashed out with his own sword, catching the Kes.h.i.+an on the shoulder.