Siege of Stone

CHAPTER 7

Bannon felt uneasy when he and Lila returned to the fighting pits near the combat arena. The place held only terrible memories for him, but that was where the hundreds of seasoned warriors wanted to gather. That was where they felt at home, where they had learned to fight for the entertainment of the people of Ildakar. Now they had to defend the city that had enslaved them. Everyone could see the enormous military force outside.

Bannon had rested after the night of the uprising, but he couldn’t relax. The city was under siege and he, too, might have to fight for Ildakar, a place he had never dreamed of calling his own. The awakened stone army filled the plain, and for three days now they had battered the walls, with little effect. General Utros had sent no ultimatum, no emissary, but Ildakar needed to be ready.

Lila remained by his side, though he didn’t understand why she stayed so close to him. He couldn’t forget how many times she had browbeaten him, challenged him, ground him under her heel as she imposed exhausting, painful training so he could fight against some desperate warrior or hungry beast in the arena. Now Lila seemed to consider him her friend, or at least her special project, though he had not asked for her company.

For these training exercises, Lila had called more than two dozen surviving morazeth to help prepare the warriors for what might be a far more terrible fight. The hard-bitten women seemed to be composed of tightly wound springs, hard leather, and sharp edges. The morazeth served their city without question, without deviation, and did not accept that their roles had changed despite the uprising. Ildakar was still Ildakar. Though the arena warriors outnumbered the morazeth by nearly ten to one in the training areas, they showed clear deference to the women.

The fighters had returned to the combat pits to rearm themselves. Many of them, including Bannon, had helped Mirrormask’s cause during the bloody revolt, but now, faced with the ancient army trapping them inside, the various parties had come to an uneasy, though unresolved, truce. The downtrodden slaves still felt generations-long enmity for their former masters, but most of these warriors recognized the common enemy. Once they defeated General Utros, they would continue their philosophical argument and reshape the government, if anyone remained alive. Bannon hoped to be gone by then.

In the tunnels near the arena, many hollowed-out grottoes had been painstakingly converted into combat rings, training floors, and sunken pits where warriors could face off against each other. Bannon had sparred with Lila many times here, once even with the captive sand panther Mrra.

With Ildakar under siege, the fighters gathered as if for a daily training session, but they realized how much more was at stake. They were muscular, scarred, flinty-eyed—survivors all. Many wore only loincloths, though some had donned leather chest armor. They chose sharpened staves, square knouts, curved hooks, short swords, whatever weapons made them most comfortable.

Lila stood in the torch-lit grotto holding a whip in one hand, a short sword in the other. At her hip, she also had her agile knife, its small handle engraved with spell runes, the tiny pointed blade capable of delivering a burst of enormous pain. Bannon had felt its sting himself when Lila had used it to control him, to punish him, to drive him to fight harder. Now she disregarded how she had treated him, seemed to think he didn’t even remember.

Lila raked her hard gaze over the gathered warriors. The rest of the morazeth stood in their places looking just as beautiful, just as deadly. Bannon had watched them train other warriors, and he knew some of their names—Kedra, Lyesse, Marla, Thorn, Genda, Ricia—but none of them had given him “special” attention, like Lila.

“While we wait for General Utros to make his next move, we will train you into the best fighters possible. We may have to prepare you for war,” Lila said, stepping into the role of leader. “Adessa is gone. Some saw her leave Ildakar on the night of the uprising, perhaps on a mission of her own. If she’s not here, she’s no longer our concern. My sisters and I will continue to harden you. For Ildakar.”

Bannon spoke up. “We’re not training to fight for the entertainment of the gifted nobles. None of us are. I want that understood.” He looked around at the other warriors. “But we have to be ready to fight against the army outside. That’s our real enemy.”

“Of course, boy,” Lila said with a mocking smile. “Do you believe battling those ancient soldiers will be less demanding than arena combat? Don’t be ridiculous. A fight to the death is a fight to the death, whether it’s on the arena sands or out on the battlefield. I want you to have the skills to survive either.”

The other morazeth squared their shoulders, lifted their weapons, and faced the countless opponents. Lila continued, “Today my sisters and I will fight our utmost to help you survive in a real war. The few of you who die immediately in a battle will be of no benefit to our city.” She looked at Bannon as the other fighters shifted restlessly. “And I intend for you to survive, boy. I’d be greatly disappointed if you got yourself killed too soon on the battlefield.”

“So would I,” Bannon said, without any trace of humor. He raised Sturdy, swung the sword to loosen his arms. As a farm boy, he had worked in the cabbage fields, the son of an embittered man who drank too much and couldn’t control his violent tendencies. The man had beaten Bannon, but unleashed the worst of his temper on his battered wife; he’d finally clubbed her to death, because Bannon hadn’t been there to stop the vile man. His father had been hanged for his crimes, but Bannon took no satisfaction from it.

Feeling the darkness in him, he bunched his muscles, squeezed his grip on the hilt. He didn’t care about the cold morazeth or the warriors who fought in the arena because it was their job. Rather, his anger flared when he thought of how he wanted to kill his father, how he had failed to save his mother. Crouching, he swept the blade through the air, letting the violence simmer inside him, but not letting it boil into uncontrollable rage. Sometimes in the heat of battle, Bannon had a tendency to fly into a blood fury and forget where he was, simply fighting and killing, without returning to himself for a long time. Now, he kept the anger under control as he imagined facing the giant ancient army outside the walls.

Even adding these hundreds of warriors to the ranks of the city guard, he didn’t know how they could make a dent in the vast siege.

A blade clanged against his own, startling him from his thoughts, and he whirled, instinctively bringing up Sturdy in defense. Lila smashed hard with her short sword, intentionally catching the guard at the end of his blade so as not to hurt him. Bannon backed away, crouching into a defensive stance. “I wasn’t ready.”

She laughed. “So you think General Utros will send a polite notice when he intends to attack you?” She struck again, swinging her sword while cracking the whip with her other hand.

Bannon couldn’t afford to be distracted now. He parried her attack, blocked her sword, and ducked beneath her snaking whip. The torch-lit training grotto was large, with plenty of places for combat. Lila and Bannon sparred near one of the shallower pits. Five feet down, the bottom was raked sand mixed with ashes to absorb spilled blood.

“We need to give these others room to fight, boy,” she said, then raised her voice. “All of you, battle my sisters! Fight against one another, and fight for your lives, because your survival may well depend on what you learn from us and from each other. Kedra! Thorn! Lyesse! Assign opponents.”

As the other morazeth separated training candidates, Bannon looked at the smooth side of the pit. “I don’t think—”

Lila slammed her shoulder into him, shoving him backward. He stumbled, tried to regain his balance, but she dove at him and knocked him over the edge. They both landed hard on the soft sand below, the young woman on top of his chest, pinning him down.

He thrust her to the side as he got into a fighting stance. As Lila rolled, she laughed, “You have to do better than that, boy, if you want to earn your reward from me tonight.”

“It’s not a reward.” He thought of the times she’d claimed his body, plying him with just a hint of softness along with a hungry lust that his body couldn’t help but respond to. “I’m free now. I’m not your pet. I’m not your captive.”

“Freedom just makes you stubborn,” she retorted, “and disappointing. I don’t like to be disappointed.” She attacked him with a flurry of sword maneuvers, lashing her whip. Bannon concentrated on meeting her blows.

Above, in the main training chambers, Genda, Ricia, Marla, and the other morazeth plunged into a melee with their selected opponents. Shouts and outcries echoed along the rough stone walls, ringing down the tunnels. To Bannon, it sounded like all-out war, but he knew it was merely practice combat. Although the morazeth imposed ruthless violence upon their trainees, he understood that they all shared the single-minded goal of protecting Ildakar.

“Sweet Sea Mother,” he panted as Lila threw herself upon him again. He fought faster, pushed her back, struck a ringing blow that made her short sword shudder, and she lashed out with her whip, trying to catch him, but close quarters rendered the long whip ineffective. He reached out, grabbed the braided leather, and yanked hard, making her stumble toward him. He let go and in a swift blinding motion, seized her wrist instead, pulling her even closer to him.

She pressed her face close to his, smiling. “So, you want me now? Are you trying to take me right here on the sands? That would be exhilarating! Maybe I’d even let you. You’ve done well today.”

He shoved her away. “You tormented me. You battered me. How can you think we’ll just be lovers?”

She looked confused. “I trained you as I was commanded to do. I taught you the skills you needed, and I made you a much better fighter than ever before. I saved your life, or at least extended it. How can you resent that?”

He felt exasperated. “I resent being imprisoned, being forced to fight. I was never part of Ildakar. I just wanted to save Ian. He was my friend, and you all corrupted him, made him forget about his life.”

“He was the champion.” Lila was just as baffled. “We revered him. Adessa even took him as her lover. She might have let herself conceive a child by him. What more could a man want?”

“What more?” Bannon spat on the sand. He backed away, keeping his sword raised in a defensive position. “I wanted to make my own choices. I didn’t want to be in the combat arena. I didn’t want to be trained by you.”

She looked down at his sword, his well-muscled arms, his lean and wiry form. “But you still have me to thank for it. How do you resent me?”

They were panting, drenched in sweat. He knew he had fought well. Lila had parried his blows, pressed forward, and he had pushed back. He was almost, almost good enough to fight her to a stalemate. But now she backed away, troubled by his reaction. “I find you strange, boy. This is what I am. I did as I was instructed. What more could you want of me? Someday you will appreciate what I gave you.”

He was grateful for the swordplay that Nathan Rahl had taught him. He had learned the basics of fighting on the deck of the Wavewalker. Before then, he had simply swung the blade from side to side, trying to get close enough to hit some reckless enemy, but Nathan showed him skill and finesse.

It was true, though, that Lila had honed him into a real fighter. He had been forced into one-on-one combat with Ian, his former best friend, who had become a bloodthirsty killer with cold and leaden eyes. The champion fought not one whit below his ability, even against Bannon, who had been forced to use every flicker of skill to save his own life, and just barely. Ian had struck him in the head with the side of a knout, rendering him unconscious rather than killing him. Bannon was sure his friend had done it on purpose, but if Bannon had let his guard falter for even a heartbeat during combat, he would be dead now. He was sure of it.

“I can’t forget what you did to me,” he said. “I’m sorry, Lila. I know who you are. I can’t blame a viper for biting me, but the venom can still make me sick.”

She chuckled. “You compare me to a viper now? I was hoping for something more romantic.” She narrowed her eyes and hardened her voice. “Boy—”

“My name is Bannon. Until you think of me as a person, I can’t think of you as anything but a snake.”

She laughed again. “As you wish, Bannon—I’ll remember that from time to time, when you earn it. But understand that my morazeth sisters and I have always fought for the good of Ildakar, and that hasn’t changed. Everyone in the city has the same enemy, and only a fool would hold a grudge in a situation like this. Fight the army of Utros, not me.” She lowered her voice. “Then you’ll find that we both deserve our rewards.”

Bannon pondered that, worried that she might use his moment of distraction to attack him. He knew that what she said was correct. “All right, I’ll put aside my grudge against you and the morazeth. For the time being.”

She smiled, a genuine smile, and when she did she was quite beautiful.

The morazeth and the combat arenas had been an integral part of Ildakaran society during their many centuries hidden beneath the shroud. Lila had not been malicious, though it had felt so at the time. She had no emotional attachment, was simply doing her job. When she presented him with a “reward” of her body and expected him to take as much pleasure as she did, she meant it. On those evenings, Lila had wrapped herself around him with wild abandon, not as a power play, but as a woman with a man. Considering how much battering she had inflicted on him, the reward had not been entirely unpleasant.

“Everyone here has to put aside their grudges, as you say. And we have to train to be deadly fighters.” He thrust Sturdy into the sand, indicating he was done with their sparring for now. Around them in the other combat pits, the battles continued.

Lila rubbed her arms, touched a sore spot from where he had dealt her a blow with the flat of his blade. He studied her slender form, the lean muscles, the spell markings on her skin. She was beautiful like a wild thing.

No grudges …

He thought again of Ian on Chiriya Island, an innocent lad who had been captured by Norukai slavers. Ian had sacrificed himself so Bannon could get away.… Bannon had watched the hideous raiders club his dear friend into unconsciousness. They had tied Ian up and sailed away, eventually selling him in the slave market of Ildakar.

Of all the things he hated, Bannon loathed the Norukai raiders the most. Perhaps he could find a way to forgive, or at least ignore, what the morazeth had done, and perhaps those women could make up for their past by saving the city from the new siege.

But Bannon could never forget nor forgive the Norukai. That was a grudge he would hold until the end of time.