Джеффри Лорд: Warlords Of Gaikon

The deadly dance around the square went on. Blade began to narrow his margin, judging and timing his leaps so that he was only inches clear of the deadly arc of Jawai's sword. Whether this leaping about was according to the standard rules for fighting in Gaikon, he didn't know. But Blade held a black belt in karate, and his footwork and endurance were formidable. The game Jawai had chosen for them to play was one Blade knew he could play for hours, if necessary.

It would probably be necessary. Blade quickly discovered that he would not be able to attack his opponent easily. Jawai was murderously fast on the riposte; Blade could not risk leaving himself open even briefly to deliver a serious attack.

After a while it began to seem as though they had been fighting for hours. Blade discovered that the captain telegraphed warning of overhead blows with a peculiar flexing of his wrists as he brought his sword up. Blade could easily respond to those signals in plenty of time to leap from under the downcuts. He didn't try to guard against them with his spear. They came down too hard and too fast for him to risk it. Too many blows with the tip might weaken his spear. A glancing blow might easily glance straight into his chest or thigh.

As he led Jawai in their dance around the square, Blade kept his eyes not only on the captain but also on the line of watching dabuni and on Yezjaro. He was looking for them to start reacting to what he was doing with Jawai. After only a few more minutes he saw that they were starting to react. And what he saw in their eyes was encouraging.

Obviously they understood more or less what he was doing. He saw men nodding or exchanging whispers with their companions. Yezjaro's face was almost expressionless, but Blade thought he saw faint hints of a smile on it. Obviously he was doing something right although he couldn't yet be sure exactly what it was. At least a dabuno of Gaikon did not have to simply stand up and hack away at an opponent and let the opponent hack back. He could properly use strategy and craft. That was fine with Blade. He knew he had no other hope of surviving here in this land of deadly swordsmen.

The wind rose further and blew colder and harder on Blade's face and across his bare chest. In spite of the cold and the wind, he was beginning to sweat.

Some of his muscles were also beginning to protest, particularly the legs that had already carried him so far so fast today.

But he could also see with growing pleasure that Jawai was getting tired, too, and was becoming confused. Perhaps Jawai had never fought so long before against such a strong opponent? Perhaps he had never expected to, and never developed the endurance he would need to last against Blade?

Certainly Jawai was no longer playing with Blade or trying to show off his expert swordwork. Each stroke of the sword lashed out like a flicker of flame, three feet of steel seeking Blade's life with all Jawai's strength and skill behind it. Blade realized one thing for certain about this fight: if he lost even a little bit of speed he was probably finished.

It was also obvious that the audience was becoming impatient. Blade couldn't tell which of the fighters was annoying them more, but he couldn't mistake the look of irritation on Yezjaro's face.

The fight went on. Except for the mounting roar of the wind, the thud of feet on chill wet grass, and the heavy breathing of the fighters, it went on in silence. Blade began to feel the muscles of his legs turning to white-hot bands stretched almost to the breaking point. He had to force his arms to twist and whirl the spear about as fast as before. And the red band around his head would no longer soak up all the sweat that was pouring down his face. He felt the stinging of salt in his eyes.

It was Yezjaro's voice that broke the silence. «What pleasure do you people find in this dance? Are you rehearsing a new act to present at the Hongshu's court during Lord Tsekuin's journey of Obedience? I thought you came here to fight-«

Blade knew that he was tired when he felt anger flare within him. But it flared only briefly. He recognized Yezjaro's tone of voice. For purposes of his own, the instructor was trying to push the fight to a conclusion by making one or the other of the fighters angry. Blade was determined that if there was going to be any anger and carelessness, it should be Jawai's.

Blade had guessed right. Jawai threw back his head and let out a high scream of rage and hatred. It seemed to be directed at the whole world, not just at Blade or Yezjaro. Then he came in, slashing with wild fury.

Blade leaped aside twice more as he judged distances and timing. He had known for a long time the perfect way to use the spear to end the fight. It was a way that would not only win but win with the style and flair he suspected the dabuni of Gaikon admired. But it was also risky. A split second off in the timing, and Blade knew that Jawai's sword would be slicing through his arm or into his thigh.

As Jawai came in for a third wild attack, Blade stood his ground. As Blade had expected, the captain slowed for a moment when he realized that his opponent was not leaping aside any more. That slowing and the captain's fatigue gave Blade all the time he needed. He dropped down into a crouch and lunged upward with the spear. One of the jutting hooks caught the descending sword. Blade sprang to his feet, twisting savagely as he did so. The sword flew out of Jawai's hands and high into the air, turning over and over as it flew. Before it thudded pointdown into the soft earth, Blade had stepped back. The spear whirled around at full speed, and the butt smashed into the side of Jawai's neck. At the last moment Blade avoided smashing it into the captain's temple. He couldn't see any good reason for killing the man, if he could win his fight and the rank of dabuno without it.

Jawai was flung sideways by the blow and sprawled facedown on the grass. Before he could make a move to rise, Blade was standing over him. One of Blade's feet came down on the small of Jawai's back, just hard enough to push him back down. His arms held the spear pointdown over the back of Jawai's neck, ready to drive it down and in. Then he turned his head to look at Yezjaro and the house dabuni. His voice was cool but challenging as he spoke.

«Brother dabuni. Do you find me worthy to be among you?» He twirled the spear with an extra flourish, although his arms felt ready to drop off.

A long silence followed Blade's words, a silence in which it seemed that even the wind had faded away to listen. Blade looked at the silent figures standing and looking back at him, defiance written on his face and in every line of his athlete's body.

Again it was Yezjaro who broke the silence. «I say the stranger is worthy. I say it by my office as instructor to our clan. And I say it by my love of seeing a mighty and ingenious warrior.» He grinned openly at Blade as he said the last words, and Blade grinned back. He had been right in his guess that in Gaikon they respected brains as well as brawn.

Now it was Yezjaro's turn to look a challenge at the house dabuni. «Brothers, will any of you say that the stranger is not worthy of the robe and the oil of Kunkoi?» He did not move his sword an inch. But the tone of voice he used could leave no one doubting what he would do to anyone who argued.

«It shall be as you wish,» said one of the dabuni.

«Yes,» said another. Then, with genuine enthusiasm that somewhat surprised Blade, «It will be an honor having him among us in the service of Lord Tsekuin.»

Yezjaro's clipped voice cut the second man down to size. «It is too soon to say whether it will be an honor or not. But certainly it will not be improper nor displeasing to Kunkoi. I think we all agree on that.» All the dabuni nodded. «Excellent.» Then he turned to Blade.