John Varley - Wizard

"I guess the first thing is to apologize," she said. "So here it is. I regret what I did, it was not justified, and I'm sorry."

"I accept your apology," Robin said. "But the warning still stands."

"That's fine. I understand that." Gaby was picking her words as carefully as she knew how. Something more than an apology was called for, but she had to be sure she did not appear patronizing.

"What I did was wrong in my culture as well as yours," she said. "The apology was for the violation of my own moral code. But you were telling me about something you witches have, some system of obligations, and the word has slipped my mind."

"Labra," Robin said.

"That's it. I don't pretend to understand it all. I think I can be sure I violated it, though, even if I'm not sure just how. What I'm asking for now is your help. Is there a way to set things right between us? Is there anything I can do to make it like it never happened?"

Robin was frowning. "I don't think you want to get into-"

"But I do. I'm willing to do quite a bit. Is there anything?"

"Y-e-e-s. But-"

"What?"

Robin threw up her hands. "Much like any primitive culture, I suppose. A duel. Just the two of us."

"How serious a duel?" Gaby asked. "To the death?"

"We're not that primitive. The purpose is reconciliation, not murder. If I thought you needed killing, I'd just do it and hope my sisters would back me up when the tribunal came around. We would fight bare-handed."

Gaby considered it. "What if I won?"

Robin gave an exasperated sigh.

"You don't understand. The winner isn't important, not in that sense. We wouldn't be trying to prove which is the better woman. The fight would only prove who is the stronger and quicker, and that has nothing to do with honor. But by agreeing to fight with a provision not to kill each other, we each acknowledge the other as a worthy, and thus honorable opponent." She paused and for a moment looked quite wicked. "Don't worry about it," she said. "You wouldn't win."

Gaby matched her grin and once again found herself liking this strange child. More than ever she wanted her solidly on her side when trouble started.

"How about it then? Am I worth fighting?"

Robin took a long time answering. Many things had occurred to Gaby since the fight was proposed. She wondered how many of them Robin was considering now. Should she let Robin win? That might be hazardous if Robin suspected she was not fighting wholeheartedly. If Robin did lose, would she really bury the hatchet? Gaby had to take her word for that. She thought she understood the little witch well enough to know her concept of honor would not have allowed her to suggest it if she could not behave as advertised. So the fight would be serious and probably painful.

"If that's the way you want it," Robin said.

Robin was taking off her clothes, so Gaby did the same. They were half a kilometer from the river, far enough to make the campfire just a dim light seen through pouring rain. The field of combat was a shallow depression in the rolling land. There was little grass, but the dirt was firm enough: heat-baked ground only beginning to soak up moisture after six hours of steady rain. Still, the footing would not be good. In places there were puddles and mud.

They faced each other, and Gaby sized up her opponent. They were a close match. Gaby had a few centimeters in height and a few kilos in mass.

"Are there any forms we should observe? Any rituals?"

"Yes, but they're complex, and they wouldn't mean anything to you, so why don't we just dispense with them? Mumbo jumbo and alagazam, you bow to me and I bow to you, and we'll consider the rituals satisfied, okay?"

"Rules?"

"What? Oh, I guess there should be, shouldn't there? But I really don't know how much you know about fighting."

"I know how to kill someone with my hands," Gaby said.

"Let's just say we do nothing that would permanently injure the other. The loser should be able to walk tomorrow. Other than that, anything goes."

"Right. But before we start, I was curious about that tattoo on your stomach. What is that for?" She pointed to Robin's midsection.

It might have been better-Robin could have looked at herself rather than at Gaby's pointing hand-but she was still caught off guard when Gaby kicked with the foot she had been carefully working down into the mud. Robin ducked the kick, but a glob of mud hit her on the side of the face, blinding one eye.

Gaby expected the leap backward and was prepared to exploit it, but Robin's reflexes were a little quicker, and Gaby took a kick in the side. It slowed her just enough for Robin to execute her own surprise move.

She turned and ran.

Gaby ran after her, but it was not a tactic she was used to. She kept expecting a trick and so did not run as fast as she might have. As a result, Robin soon had a comfortable lead. She stopped when the distance between them had lengthened to ten meters, and when she turned, her eye was open again. Gaby thought she would not be seeing as well as before, but the rain had removed most of her disadvantage. Gaby was impressed. When she began to move in on the younger woman, she did so with extreme caution.

It was like a restart. Gaby felt handicapped because she had seldom fought this way before. Her own training had been very long ago, and while she was not rusty, it was hard to remember what one did in those practice sessions. For the last eighty years any fight she found herself in was completely serious, meaning that death could always result. That kind of fight was not at all like practicing. Robin, on the other hand, must do this sort of thing all the time. Her personality would practically guarantee it.

There was no real reason why the fight should last more than a few minutes, even pulling punches. Somehow Gaby didn't think it would turn out that way. When she moved in, she gambled by not throwing any punches or kicks, leaving Robin an opening Gaby felt she could handle if the younger woman chose to exploit it. But she did not, and the two of them grappled for wrestling holds. An agreement had been made without words. Gaby would honor it. By formalizing the contest even further than the rules they had agreed on, Robin was saying she had no desire for either of them to be hurt. That meant Gaby was an honorable opponent who did not deserve to be hurt.

It took quite a while. Gaby realized she had surrendered what advantages she might have had by fighting this way. She didn't mind. She expected to lose, but that didn't prevent her from giving it all she had. Robin would know she had been in a fight.

"Peacel" Gaby yelled. "Uncle, aunt, and a lot of little cousins!"

Robin released her arm, and the knife of pain slowly withdrew from Gaby's shoulder. She lifted her face from the mud and cautiously rolled over. She began to think she might one day regain the use of the arm.

She lifted her head and saw Robin sitting with her head between her knees, panting like a steam engine.

"Two out of three?" Gaby suggested.

Robin began to laugh. She did it loudly and with no self-consciousness.

"If I thought for one minute you meant that," she finally managed to say, "I'd tie you up and keep you in a cage. But you'd probably gnaw through the chains."

"Almost had you a couple of times there, didn't I?"

"You'll never know how close."

Gaby wondered how she could feel so good, considering the fact that she hurt all over. She supposed it must be marathon euphoria, that boneless relaxation which can come when one completes an all-out effort. And after all, she was not injured. There would be bruises, and the shoulder would be weak for a while, but she was suffering mostly from the effects of exertion, not pummeling.

Robin got slowly to her feet. She held out a hand.