The Torian Pearls

Chapter 8

For the testing of Blade's swordsmanship, everyone crowded closer. Blade had made quite an impression in the previous tests. Now everyone was openly curious to see what would happen when he came up against Rehod. Even the mounted sentries were riding as slowly and as closely as they dared.

Blade had taken the other tests wearing only a loinguard and sandals. For the test of swordsmanship he pulled on boots, kilt, belt, and leather wrist braces, as well as the two swords. None of the clothing would restrict his movements in the least-or protect him from Rehod's swords if the padding came off.

Blade stepped out into the middle of the circle and waited for Rehod. The baudz came trotting out, head lowered like a bull about to charge. The man looked rather like a bull, too. He was half a head shorter than Blade but a good deal wider. His arms were nearly as thick as Blade's legs and his legs looked like the trunks of young trees, while his hands made even his longsword look like a child's toy. Rehod moved well, though, so Blade knew he would be facing a man fast enough to put all his bull-like strength to effective use.

The two swordsmen moved toward each other. Blade held his longsword in his right hand, raised to slash down, and his shortsword in the left, ready to either guard or thrust home. Rehod, who was left-handed, did exactly the opposite.

As usual when he wanted to size up an opponent, Blade let Rehod make the first attack. Another minute of circling, then Rehod flew at Blade like something propelled by an explosion. He seemed to be all attack, no defense. His longsword whistled down toward Blade's head while his shortsword thrust at Blade's stomach.

Blade easily blocked both attacks. His longsword rose to meet Rehod's with a ringing thud, while his shortsword locked hard against Rehod's. Blade tried to twist his own sword free and turn the block into a thrust at the other's groin, but Rehod was too strong for that. The swords scraped free of each other and the two fighters each moved back a step. Blade realized that Rehod had attacked with only part of his own strength and speed, also, testing his opponent. The next attack might be harder to meet.

Blade decided not to leave that much initiative in the hands of someone as dangerous as Rehod. Even with blunted swords those head-cuts of his might still scramble the brains inside Blade's skull so they could never be unscrambled by the medical skills of the Kargoi. Blade was never entirely at ease about the possibility of brain damage which could make it impossible for the computer to reach him and draw him home. He decided to let Rehod have two more attacks, then move in himself.

The pattern of the second attack was the same as the first, but as Blade expected it came in faster and hit harder. The impact of meeting it made Blade's arms tingle as if he'd touched a live wire.

This time Blade didn't take a backward step after Rehod's attack. He held his ground, then went straight into his own attack. Rehod was too strong and fast to be given that third attack. It was time to see what the baudz could do on the defensive.

Blade's attack came in low, the shortsword leading. Rehod blocked the shortsword with his own and struck down at Blade's arm with his longsword. If the blow had landed it would have snapped Blade's arm like a rotten twig. Blade snatched his arm back just in time. As he did his longsword whirled up and over, to smash its tip into Rehod's shoulder.

Shouts exploded from the watchers, wordless cries and hisses of indrawn breath, yells of «First struck!» Rehod seemed not to notice the pain of the blow, but he did notice the shouts. His face set into an even uglier mask than before, something Blade wouldn't have believed possible. Then he launched himself into the attack again, at the exact moment Blade did the same.

The two men came at each other with no defenses at all, but by some miracle neither of them got a single blow home. They even held onto their swords, although the head-on meeting jarred both of them. Then the fight dissolved into a continuous savage swirl of attack and counterattack, block, and thrust. Even the watchers around the circle could barely keep track of who was trying to do what to whom. As for the two fighters, each man's world had narrowed down to himself and his opponent, the weapons that whistled through the air, and the circle they were trampling down in the grass.

Blade had to pay less and less attention to his style as the fight went on. Rehod was too likely to take advantage of even the slightest mistake to land a blow that would be crippling or fatal even with a padded sword. Perhaps the watchers would judge that Blade had proven himself and stop the fight before either he or Rehod really gained the advantage? That was possible, but nothing to count on. Rehod was the type of man to claim that he'd been winning, unless he could no longer stand or lift a sword at the end of the fight. Letting the fight go on until one man collapsed would make the decision of the baudzi much simpler.

Besides, Blade suspected that he and Rehod were putting on the kind of show the Kargoi seldom saw. The fight was too good a piece of entertainment to be stopped before one of them lay flat on the ground.

So nothing and nobody except the two men themselves would end the fight. With that clear in his mind, Blade settled down to make sure that it was Rehod who ended up flat on the ground, not Richard Blade.

The swords whirled in the air and clattered against each other. The circle of trampled grass grew wider and wider as two large pairs of booted feet pounded back and forth in a deadly dance. Sweat dripped down both men, leaving trails in the dust on their skins and dark stains on their leather garments, forcing them both to grip their swords tighter and tighter. Both sensed that the first man to lose a weapon would almost certainly be the first man down and out.

Against an opponent other than Rehod, Blade would not have been quite so concerned about that. The watchers would not end the fight before there was a definite winner, true. But certainly by now they would also be willing to admit that Blade was worthy to be a warrior of the Kargoi, even if he lost.

Against Rehod, though, losing the fight would mean losing life or limb. That was becoming more certain with each moment. Rage and hatred were growing in the man and blazing more and more savagely from his sweating face and wide-staring eyes. Blade knew that if he faltered even for a few seconds Rehod would use those seconds to kill or cripple. The watchers could not hope to prevent it or perhaps even notice it until the damage was done.

So Blade pressed his attacks harder and faster. He knew now that Rehod had an edge in sheer physical strength, but he had about the same edge in speed. If he could use that speed to drive home a few blows that would start cutting away Rehod's strength ….

Blade's swords darted and flew like striking snakes, as fast as human muscles could move them. At the same time they moved with deadly accuracy to their targets. Blow by blow, Blade began dealing out punishment.

Another blow to Rehod's shoulder. One to the right side of his chest, another to the left side of his belly. Two in quick succession to his right thigh, which left a spectacular welt and drew a hiss of pain. Blade followed up the blows to the thigh by working down the same leg with three more attacks. The last one went squarely home to the knee. After that Rehod was unmistakably favoring his right leg.

His legs might be taking punishment, but Rehod's arms were still as strong and quick as ever. Blade couldn't risk moving his attacks lower than the knee. He'd be leaving himself too open to an attack that would be just as dangerous as ever.

So he went back to work on Rehod's ribs and shoulders. Twice he broke the skin so that blood began to trickle and mix with the sweat on Rehod's torso. Most of the time he hit hard enough to leave welts. Some of his earlier hits were already turning a spectacular dark blue.

The hitting was not all on one side. From time to time Rehod got through Blade's defenses and left welts and blood trickles of his own. This didn't happen often, though. Blade was hitting four or five times for every time he was hit. At this rate even Rehod would soon have to yield; even his bull frame could take only so much punishment before his bull strength started to fade. Then the fight could be over very quickly.

Blade was vaguely aware that the noise from the circle of watchers got steadily louder as he hammered more and more blows through Rehod's defenses and left more and more blood and bruises on the man. He could hear it only faintly, as his own breath roared louder and louder in his ears, building up a wall of sound that seemed to shut out the rest of the world.

He was also vaguely aware that the noise suddenly died, as completely as if all the watchers had sunk into the ground. No doubt something had happened to cause that silence, but it could not interest Blade. Nothing could interest him except Rehod, the man he had to beat down to the ground.

The silence went on. So did the fight. Now Rehod was definitely beginning to slow down. His legs could no longer hurl him forward or take him backward or sideways. His arms could no longer send either sword driving through Blade's defenses to split or bruise Blade's skin.

As Rehod lost the power to attack, he seemed to gain more power to defend. His swords whirled and danced, forming a blurred shield of steel and bone and leather between himself and Blade. It became harder and harder for Blade to drive through the mounting fury of Rehod's defense.

Blade saw that Rehod was defending himself with a vigor that would shortly drain his strength. It also seemed to him that Rehod might be setting a trap, trying to get his opponent completely committed to a steady, all-out attack, then launching a final desperate stroke of his own.

Blade began to pace himself, keeping something in reserve each time he attacked, ready to shift from attack to defense faster than Rehod could strike. He also kept an eye on the padding of Rehod's swords. It was hard to be sure, but Blade thought some of the padding was beginning to slowly break up and peel off.

Still the whirling of the swords went on. Blade heard the noise of the watchers begin to rise again. Whatever had silenced them was no longer at work.

Then Rehod began to attack again, not with the wild fury Blade had expected but with cool precision and surprising control. Each attack came in a little higher. Blade was certain his opponent had at last decided on his final moves, but didn't waste time trying to guess what these might be.

A few more attacks, and Rehod began to draw back a step or two after each one. He seemed to be trying to catch his breath. Blade considered pressing attacks of his own, but decided against it. He'd been fighting for nearly an hour and wouldn't turn down any chance to catch his own breath.

Suddenly Rehod attacked again, moving in as fast as he'd ever done. Blade was barely able to react in time. Rehod almost sprang back from the attack, his swords leaping upward to cross above his head.

With a snap of one powerful wrist Rehod drove his shortsword along the edge of his other weapon. The padding vanished as if the touch of the shortsword had dissolved it. Sunlight gleamed along the bare edge of Rehod's longsword, in the moment before it slashed down at Blade's head.

Blade's response came faster than any watcher's eye could follow. His longsword flashed upward to meet Rehod's treacherous downcut, while his body twisted out from under the descending sword. The naked sword and the padded one came together, and with a tremendous clang Rehod's sword drove Blade's down toward the ground. The deadly edge hissed down past Blade's ear, inches from slashing deeply into his shoulder.

Blade drove his own shortsword forward in a powerful thrust at Rehod's groin. Rehod screamed out loud and stiffened, for a moment totally paralyzed by the pain.

In that moment Blade dropped his longsword and drove his clenched right fist hard into Rehod's stomach. The blow doubled Rehod up and drove him backward several steps. His muscles jerked and his fingers writhed frantically as he tried to raise or even hold on to his swords.

Blade slammed the flat of his shortsword down on Rehod's right wrist, then drove the heel of his free hand up under the man's jaw. Rehod dropped both swords, went over backward like a falling tree, landed with a thud, and lay there. After a moment he groaned, clutched his stomach, turned on his side, and began vomiting.

Blade straightened up, dropped his shortsword, turned his back on his fallen opponent, and walked toward the circle of watching Kargoi.

For the first time in many minutes he realized just how close everyone had crowded to watch the fight. Even the mounted sentries had pulled their drends to a stop. A dozen men had climbed up on the backs of the drends to get a better view.

The only group standing slightly apart was half a dozen mounted warriors. Blade stared at them. They weren't sentries, or anybody else who'd been on hand when the fight began.

One of them was an old man, white-haired and his skin a pattern of wrinkles and scars. He held himself as straight as a sword, though, and his gaze was as clear and as penetrating as Paor's.

Another of the riders was a younger man, enough like the older man to clearly be his son. The other four riders were warriors, all of them as large as Rehod and nearly as ferocious looking. Each of them wore a blue leather strip across his chest, in addition to the usual weapons and garments.

Paor himself came running out to meet Blade, with a grin that was nearly as wide as his face.

«Friend Blade, you have your place in the songs of the Kargoi and the memories of those who saw you, even if you fall down upon the ground dead in this moment! You judged Rehod's treachery perfectly, and met it in a way that will be long remembered.»

Blade laughed. «I hope Rehod will remember it, along with everyone else.»

Paor nodded. «He will.» Then he looked toward Rehod's writhing form, his grin faded, and he lowered his voice. «He is not dying, is he?»

Blade shook his head. Paor frowned. «It would have been better to kill him. You had the right to do so. Now you have shamed him but left him alive. He will be an even more dangerous enemy than before, although he will have fewer friends.»

Paor was probably right-Rehod would have been much safer dead. But it was too late to do anything about it now, and Blade had never been too fond of killing when there were less bloody ways of dealing with a problem.

Paor went on. «Meanwhile, I am to bring you before Adroon, High Baudz of the Kargoi. He has watched you fight and declared that you shall not be tested further, but shall at once be ranked among the warriors of the Red People.» He pointed toward the little group of riders, and the old man in the middle raised his hand to beckon Blade toward him.