80 A Duel Between Kings (2/2)
His hands already balled into fists, Corco's head shot over to Caelestis. He could hear Fadelio's steps move in from behind, ready to hold back or support his master's charge. Despite the cold, large drops of sweat formed on the elder's brow, his throat moved to swallow down his fears. In the end, the old man took a heart and stepped forward, a quiver still present in his voice.
”King Pachacutec is correct. The agreed upon treaty lacks detail. These details must be decided now, through an agreement between the Kings.”
”In this case!” Pacha screamed, ”This king will challenge the southerner to a duel.”
Corco ignored his uncle and looked around the crowd. The peacock wasn't nearly smart enough for a scheme like this. Someone else must have planned this. Again, his eyes landed on Caelestis, who ducked down and disappeared into the onlooking masses.
”Your arm is better, is it not, brother? This time, there is no excuse to reject, is there?”
Finally, Corco gave up his search for the culprit and focused on the smug smile of Pacha. He thought back to all the things the little bastard had done. The assassination, the silver turtle, the insults... and back into his head it went, that damn phrase. He still remembered clearly, back when they had met at the banquet. At that time, his hopes had been so high to, after all those years, reconcile with his family, yet all hopes were crushed by the peacock's innocent sounding 'how's your arm brother'. It had only taken a single sentence for Corco to lose all hope in having peace with his family, especially with uncle Pacha. The bastard had always underestimated Corco, always thought he would just roll over and make way to a bit of grandstanding. Unlike the night of the banquet, this time there was no injury holding him back. This time, there was no reason to back down.
”Okay. I'm in.”
”...”
Pacha's dull face became even duller as the crowd of shadows in the back began to whisper.
”Once agreed upon, there will be no more way to weasel out of the duel. This hero will go easy on no man, not even his brother!” Once he had registered what his brother had said, the peacock began to play his villain role again.
”...yeah, I get it. Undefeated in a hundred bouts, right? Let's just see what you've got.”
Corco answered his brother's faked concern with bared teeth. Like a fly, the bastard had done his best to annoy him to death. Today, Corco was determined to swat him down at last.
__________________________
Once again, the crowd had assembled within the central yard. After the assembly and throughout the coronation, the furniture had already been removed and the space cleared out. At this late hour, the pale moonlight, enforced by sparse torches, shone onto the circle of sand prepared for the duel and onto the surrounding crowd. As was Yaku tradition, the two duelists would determine just whose fist was the most just under the moon and the stars. For now, the onlookers had to wait for the fighters to get ready.
The roles on the edges of the circle were well distributed. Corco's loyalists stood to Amautu's right, with his brother's giant attendant first among them. Meanwhile, Pachacutec had amassed the dependencies of the Ichilia clan behind himself to Amautu's left. The newly crowned northern king himself occupied the middle between the camps and would pretend a neutral position for now. As servants smoothed and flattened the arena, Amautu watched the whole proceedings around himself with a sardonic smile.
”Well done,” Amautu said to the warrior in his back.
”It was as master predicted,” the gratified voice of his servant returned.
”Indeed,” Amautu answered back. He was very pleased with how his plan had been going so far.
”Though...”
The warrior hesitated, but Amautu's patient ”go on” urged him to continue. He would never silence his people. He would rather be wrong than be ignorant.
”If King Corco were to win it would pit the two southern kings against each other from the start, with us to move freely to balance the scales and gain advantage. However, if King Pacha were to be the victor...”
”It would make no difference. If the bastard wins, he gets the castle, but the castle alone is not worth much. After that, he still has to invest the time, money and men to win a war against the south. And then he has to somehow hold his new land. Whatever he intends to gain from Sachay, he will have to spend double that amount to suppress the rebellions. No matter what the bastard does today, it will be his loss.”
A smile crept onto Amautu's face as he watched his giant uncle step out into the center, with all the posturing inherent to the proud peacock he was. Amautu looked forward to crushing him into the mud. With a thought back to the hole in the foreigner's corpse, he just hoped his brother would leave him enough to make him satisfied.