Page 26

J ai waited on the fringes of the Talvir arena, eyeing the combatants within. Without Winter by his side, he could blend into the crowd with relative ease. The clothing he and Feng wore, a product of their time with the Valor, didn’t stand out among the less affluent Kidara congregating in the plaza, and it seemed in a place this large, there were more than a few members of mixed heritage, traders included. He was yet another face in the crowd, and he found it refreshing.

Gone was the foreign savage that he had been in Latium. No longer was he a hostage among the Valor, where each tribesman knew the others as they knew their own reflection.

These were his people. He was home .

Jai’s gaze was drawn to the circle’s centre, as one contender after another vaulted into the arena. They entered a series of duels, some simultaneous, some taken in turns, the result of unheard challenges between opponents meeting within the ring. Every display, every bout, was an act of prowess.

Instead of being awed, however, as he was the first time he had witnessed the Valor compete, Jai was calculating. His eyes, trained by relentless practice and Kiran’s supervision, could still easily pick out the wasted movements, the overly wide swings, the failed feints. He found himself mentally stepping into their shoes, analysing their strategies, imagining what he would have done differently.

All around him, onlookers leaned forward, their voices loud with both cheers and jeers, bets being won with swift exchanges of promised wares and swift-palmed coin. It was strange to see money here, once more being reminded of the stark difference between a Great Tribe and that of the Tainted.

He didn’t ruminate on it too long, however, as the crowd’s timbre shifted. A hush fell over the throng as a woman entered the ring. Her tall, wiry figure cut a sharp contrast against the stocky strength of the previous contenders. She was clothed in simple garb that accentuated the hardened, sinewy lines of her body. Hair, dark as raven’s wings, was pulled back from her stern face, revealing a pair of sharp eyes.

A collective groan rippled through the crowd.

‘Not her,’ a voice muttered close by.

Jai turned to see a well-dressed noble shaking his head, his face a picture of sad resignation.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jai asked of him.

The man barely gave him a look.

‘That is Priya,’ he muttered, turning away with a shake of his head. ‘She’s the best here, soulbound to an Alkhara. Not worth betting on. Not worth fighting. She always wins.’

Around the circle, the fevered energy had fizzled like wet wood on a fire. It had been replaced by a restless anticipation. Men shuffled their feet, women murmured among themselves, all keeping their distance. Even Feng had paused his mingling, catching Jai’s eye and returning hurriedly through the crowd.

There was an elegance in her solitude. Like a lone wolf daring its pack for a rival, a challenge that was both invitation and a warning. The circle was her territory, and she the undisputed sovereign.

Priya smirked, and put her hands on her hips. Jai knew it would be foolish to face her. He’d hardly bested Kiran more than a handful of times, and she wasn’t even the best fighter among the Valor. But something told him Kiran and Zayn were special cases.

Perhaps... perhaps he’d hold his own.

Compelled by this lingering thought, Jai made to step forward, only to find his path impeded by Feng’s firm grip on his tunic.

‘Jai!’ Feng’s whisper held a tinge of panic. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m going to fight,’ Jai answered.

‘You’ll lose,’ Feng said. ‘Nobody is even taking bets against her.’

‘If I beat on one of these others, I’ll look like a bully,’ Jai said. ‘None of them are soulbound. But if I beat her... ’

‘And when you lose?’ Feng asked. ‘You’ve had but a few weeks of training.’

‘And I was training for months before then. And at least I’ll have tried. There’s respect in that.’

Jai caught Gurveer in the crowd, his eyes wide, fist pumping the air. Feng’s words drifted through.

‘Jai, you don’t understand...’

But Jai’s feet were already moving. Because what Feng seemed to not understand was that he had no choice. This was the opportunity the Great Steppe was providing him, and to not take it was to lose everything anyway.

He shrugged off his tunic, the garment falling to the ground in a discarded heap. His chest was bare now, vulnerable under the gaze of a hundred eyes. It revealed the steel blue of the Damantine gorget around his neck, marking him as the son of their greatest khan.

A collective gasp swept through the crowd, the whispers among them becoming a dull roar.

Fresh bets echoed around the arena, a frenzy punctuated by the clink of coins changing hands. Jai felt the lingering doubts evaporate, as he heard calls for bets on him to win. People were willing to take a chance on him. Even now.

Jai saw Feng among them, and tried to put it from his mind. This was his moment. His one opportunity to prove himself a Sithian.

Jai stalked to the stack of bamboo swords at the edge of the circle, trampled grass crunching softly under his feet. Selecting one, he tested its weight in his hand, the familiar grip steadying his nerves.

He approached Priya, bamboo sword at the ready. Her eyes, dark and unreadable, flickered over him, taking in his armour, and the confidence in his stride. He could almost see her appraising him anew, her earlier smirk replaced with wary interest.

Jai bowed, as was the custom, and she returned it.

‘I will not go easy on you,’ Priya said.

‘I’m counting on it,’ Jai retorted.

He adjusted his stance, welcoming her to make the first move. He would not reveal his skill. Let her come to him.

Priya did exactly that, her sword sweeping in a wide arc. He countered, once, twice, thrice, their bamboo weapons clashing in a staccato rhythm that echoed through the open air.

The crowd roared their approval, even as Priya danced back, her sword lancing forward in a contradiction Jai did not expect. He arched his back, the blow missing its mark, only for the sword to sweep up and graze his lips.

He tasted copper in his mouth, and spat a glob of blood into the grass. It was a reminder – a message written in pain – that Priya was no ordinary opponent. Jai bared his teeth, even as she lunged again. Her attacks grew fiercer, the winds that drove her becoming a storm, her sword a lightning bolt.

He blocked and parried as best as he could, but she was relentless, her feet dancing her out of range with every rushed counter he could manage. The fight was no longer in his control.

And yet... yes, an opening; an overconfident lunge bringing her close. He barrelled forward, locking blades with her. Forcing a battle of strength, in the Locked Horns of Talvir. Priya’s eyes widened as he pulsed mana into his body, just as Rufus had shown him.

The roar of the crowd blended with the roaring beat of his pulse in his ears, his world reduced to the twin staves edging ever closer to Priya.

Seizing the moment, he launched his forehead into her face, a brutish trick from Rufus’s repertoire. Priya staggered back, but even as Jai heaved to press the advantage, her leg wrapped around his, and a surge of power was pushing back, flipping him onto the grass.

He scrambled to rise, only to find the tip of the bamboo blade pressed into his throat. Priya, her nose dripping with claret, offered him a bloodstained smile.

‘Do you yield?’ She extended her hand, and for a moment he thought he needed to fight on. His mind a whirl, a decision was formed, and Jai reluctantly took her hand.

There were cheers from the onlookers, but he knew not who it was for. He bowed to his opponent, who returned it with grace, and made his way back to the ring’s edge. Only then did the hands clapping his back confirm the applause... and his decision to both fight and yield when he did.

He might have lost, but he had also won. Not the fight, but the respect of his people. At least some of them, it seemed.

The well-dressed noble shook his head at Jai in amazement, before handing something to Feng, his fingers reluctant to part with it before Feng yanked it free.

Jai expelled a breath he didn’t know he was holding and let Feng lead him away.

‘We should return to the tent,’ Jai muttered, touching his lips to see his fingers stained red.

Feng chuckled drily. ‘Oh, but we’ve got much more to do. There’s always a trade caravan following in the Kidara’s wake. We have wares to peruse, haggles to win.’

‘With what money?’ Jai asked.

Feng opened his purse, showing Jai the glint of gold inside.

‘I bet your tent, and everything inside.’

Jai looked at him, confused.

‘But I lost...’ Jai said. ‘Don’t tell me you bet against me.’

‘Hardly any money in that,’ Feng chuckled. ‘I bet you’d last more than thirty heartbeats. Truth be told, it was a narrow call. But it seems this morning was a time of gambles for both of us.’