Part 35 (2/2)
Blaine bit his lip, drawing blood, bitterly aware of Kath's deadly dilemma. Against blue steel, she couldn't engage and she couldn't parry, speed and grace her only weapons. A small woman fighting against a tall man, like pitting a deer against a lion, the outcome seemed inevitable. Blaine couldn't watch, yet he couldn't look away, knowing a single mistake would cost her life.
Drenched with sweat, both combatants slowed but neither gave up. Locked together like ill-fated lovers, the macabre dance moved to the center of the dais. Kath retreated, almost in a straight line, her footsteps dragging, her blond hair streaked with sweat, her eyes glazed.
The crowd stood, sensing the end was near.
Blaine edged towards the dais, his hand on his dagger, but Zith grabbed his arm. ”No.”
Time had nearly caught Kath. Exhausted, she staggered backwards, her sword a frail weapon against blue steel.
The fox rushed in for the kill. He loosed the blue steel blade in a mighty shoulder-high swing, a killing blow aimed at her neck.
Kath stared as if transfixed.
Blaine screamed. ”No!”
At the last moment, Kath stepped sideways...and the sword struck stone! Sparks flared. Blue steel cleaved into the stone pillar, shattering the wax sheath, biting deep into the red rock pillar...and then it stopped, the sapphire blade held fast. The sword stuck in the stone.
The crowd gasped in disbelief.
Kath raised her sword to the warrior's throat. ”Yield.”
The fox strained to pull the sword free, corded muscles bulging at his neck.
Kath forced his head back, the tip of her sword drawing blood. ”Yield!”
s.h.a.grith, the leader of the eagles, leaped onto the dais. ”Kill him!”
Blaine gaped, ambushed by the eagle's betrayal of the fox.
”I said kill him!” s.h.a.grith raged at Kath. ”The fight is to the death! You dare to claim the War Helm yet you're afraid to kill!”
Kath's voice shook with rage. ”I kill enemies not allies. Are the lives of your men worth so little?”
Anger ripped through the crowd.
Kath kept her sword pressed to the warrior's throat, drawing a bead of blood. ”For the last time, will you yield?”
Confusion played across the fox's face. He looked from the eagle to the sword and then slowly raised his empty hands, his voice distorted by his smashed nose. ”I yield.”
Kath lowered her sword, weariness cras.h.i.+ng across her face. She stared out at the crowd. ”Now do you believe? Do you have the proof you need?” Striding to the front of the dais, she raised her voice to a shout. ”We are allies! Our swords are joined with yours. Together we're destined to defeat the Mordant.”
The crowd stirred but they did not cheer.
Blaine kept his gaze fixed on Kath.
Movement on the dais, s.h.a.grith raced towards Kath, a dagger poised to strike at her back.
The crowd gasped.
Blaine screamed, ”Behind you!”
Kath whirled. Swift as lightning, she parried the blow and then lunged forward. Strike of the dragon, so fluid it was like nothing he'd ever seen. Her sword struck deep, taking the a.s.sa.s.sin in the chest, a killing blow straight to the heart.
Impaled, the eagle sagged dead on her sword, surprise scrawled across his face.
Kath shook her head and pulled her sword loose, blood dripping from the blade.
Blaine vaulted onto the dais and stood at her back, his fists clenched, his voice a hoa.r.s.e whisper. ”I've got your back.”
She nodded, her sword held in a warrior's stance.
A chime of bells filled the cavern, like the sound of soft rain.
The Old One was carried onto the dais, followed by a procession of lion faced men in pale white jerkins and raven faced women in sheepskin cloaks. They stepped around the slain eagle and nodded to Kath, taking positions around the dais.
Royce, the big man with the wild mane of auburn hair, the one Blaine thought of as the leader of the lions, was the last to climb the steps. Solemn with dignity, he carried a swath of sheepskin. Nestled on the sheepskin sat a helmet, a simple conical half-helm with a cruciform nose guard. Made of ordinary steel, the helm was burnished bright. Despite the polish, it had an ancient look about it, a relic of the past. Blaine was tempted to dismiss it, till he saw the detail on the nose guard. Cunningly wrought in gold, a pantheon of predators decorated the helm, wolves, badgers, foxes, and owls, too many to count, and on the crest reared a roaring lion, a single paw outstretched in victory. Something about the helm stirred Blaine's blood, a call to battle. ”The War Helm!” The words whispered out of him, a touch of envy in his voice.
Royce turned towards the crowd, his voice echoing to the far reaches of the cavern. ”The G.o.ds have spoken. The War Helm is fairly won!”
The crowd sat stunned, thousands of faces staring at the dais.
Royce carried the helm to the Old One, leaning down for her approval.
The Old One raised her arms, gnarled hands hovering above the gleaming helm like a benediction. ”The will of the G.o.ds has prevailed. May the Light lead us to victory.”
The crowd remained silent, the weight of judgment hanging in the air.
Blaine stood behind Kath, his hands balled into fists.
Royce walked towards Kath, offering her the helm. ”Great change is upon us. Never before has a woman, let alone a barefaced stranger, won the War Helm. Yet the G.o.ds have spoken. Your claim is proven in front of all the people. Predicted by the vision of a Taishan and sealed by the test of combat, it is yours by right. Lead us well.”
Blaine whispered, ”Take it.”
Kath hesitated.
Royce smiled, his voice dropping to a whisper. ”By tradition, the war leader places the helm upon his...her head...in front of all the people.”
Still Kath hesitated. ”And there are no words to speak? No oath of fealty?”
His smile deepened. ”Your deeds speak louder than any words.” He proffered the helm toward her, his voice dropping to a whisper. ”The Old One had it lined with sheepskin to ensure a better fit.”
Blaine glared at the old woman. So the wrinkled witch had foreseen the outcome, yet she'd made Kath risk her life. The painted people were hard to understand and harder to trust.
Royce said, ”Will you accept the War Helm?”
Kath reached out with both hands, gently lifting the helm. Turning to face the people, she raised the helm into the air. ”By the Light, I swear to value every sword among you.” She slowly settled the helm on her head, burnished steel set over long blond hair. ”By the Light, I'll find a way to victory!”
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