Sword-Bound Read online

  He caught the bota and unstoppered it. “You’re taking aqivi with us?”

  “It has its medicinal qualities.”

  Neesha grunted and squirted liquor into his mouth. A couple of big swallows, and he restoppered and tossed it back to me. But even somewhat hung over and worn out, his grace in mounting his horse didn’t waver. Growing up on a horse farm will do that. Everything is second nature.

  “Let’s go,” I said. “We’re burning daylight.”

  Neesha squinted at the lightening sky. “Does it qualify as daylight yet?”

  “Close enough.” I clicked my tongue at the team as I took up the reins. “Since you’re so all fired up to go on adventures, we should make as many preparations today as possible, so we’ll be ready to go tomorrow.”

  Neesha brought his horse up to ride beside me. “You’ve changed your tune,” he observed. “Now you’re in a hurry.”

  It was true the promise of leaving the canyon for a while appealed now, as it hadn’t when Neesha first brought it up. I didn’t feel stifled by my duties as a teacher, but it would be nice to get out in the world again. I suspected Del felt the same—or would, once she got over leaving Sula behind. In two years, other than visiting Julah, we hadn’t gone anywhere, certainly not with a baby in hand. But Sula would be fine with Lena and Alric. I think she considered them as much her family as Del and me.

  We rattled out of town, following the ruts that led toward the canyon. The route was no longer quite as direct as when Del and I first discovered it. We had wanted to avoid the Vashni, a decidedly hostile tribal clan whose territory edged near the nascent road, but we had to approach the boundary to reach the lean-to atop the bluff. One never knew when shelter, or simply a rest, for humans or horses, would come in handy. I thought it possible the Vashni left us alone because Del’s brother was their Oracle—they had, after all, accepted him as one of their own. I’d had my dealings with them as well, when one tried to turn me into a dream-walker. But it wasn’t wise to be complacent about the appearance of amity. One never knew what the Vashni might do. And their idea of hospitality was to boil uninvited guests in a cauldron.

  Through the riverbed that hadn’t held water for as long as I knew, then up the bluff to its small plateau. A horse was tied in the thin shade of the trees that edged the bluff. I figured it was a good place to water the team.

  Just as I began to climb down from the wagon, a man walked out of the lean-to. Sword-dancer. No burnous, so there was an expanse of abdomen and shoulders naked save for a harness, and bare legs below dhoti. Also bare feet.

  And I knew him.

  “Challenge,” said Khalid.

  Oh, hoolies.

  I jumped down to the ground. “So now you’re giving me a chance to meet you in a circle instead of simply attacking? I thought I had no honor and wasn’t deserving of a dance in the circle. Or words to that effect.” I’d halted the wagon in the thin copse of trees, near what must be Khalid’s horse. I went about the business of getting canvas buckets out of the wagon and two fat botas.

  “I’ll dance with you,” Neesha announced to Khalid.

  I glanced at him, startled. But Khalid demurred, looking at me. “You’re not good enough. I want him.”

  “Hah,” Neesha said. “Afraid to risk losing to me.”

  This time Khalid looked at him. “There’s no risk of that. You were soundly beaten.”

  Neesha glared at him. “I was beaten because I slipped in a puddle of piss. That’s all.”

  “I don’t want you. I want to dance against the Sandtiger.”

  I unstoppered the botas and poured the contents into both collapsible waxed buckets and placed them close to the team. I slung the botas back into the wagon, then unlaced my sandals, stripped out of my burnous, unbuckled the harness. I placed everything in the wagon. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

  My son was startled. “You’re not!”

  “I am.” I looked at him. “Draw the circle, Neesha.”

  Khalid started to object, but one glance from me silenced him. He’d already drawn two of them in Julah. Our turn now. He got out of his harness and tossed it into the lean-to, keeping the sword with him.

  Neesha jumped down from the saddle and looped reins around a bush. Like me, he watered the horse first, then walked out to the most level section of ground he could find. For my benefit, he made a production out of testing footing. Rocks were kicked aside, wood was tossed away, twigs picked up and deposited elsewhere. Then he took off his sandals and walked the area, muttering something about no puddles. Finally satisfied—though not looking happy about it—he drew his sword from the sheath at his shoulder and set the point into the dirt. He wasted no time; he knew, as did I, as did Khalid, how to draw a circle quickly and accurately. Then he stepped away.

  I looked at Khalid. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Absolutely sure?”

  “Yes. I said so.”

  “Well, as you said to him—” I gestured to Neesha with a jerk of my head, “‘you were soundly beaten.’”

  He put up his chin. “I know that. I—”

  I overrode him. “And you want a dance to the death?”

  He closed his mouth.

  “Remember,” I noted, “I let you live last time.”

  “That was a death-dance. Well, no, it wasn’t really a dance, since you have no honor, except you stayed in the circle anyway. It was—”

  “I know exactly what it was,” I interrupted. “It was an attempt to humiliate a farmer aping sword-dancers. But then you figured out who I was, and the stakes changed. I’m fair game to any sword-dancer because of what I did. And how better to establish yourself than to kill the Sandtiger? Instant credibility.” Gripping the hilt, I rested the flat of the blade against my shoulder. “Last time I had a bounty on my head, thanks to Umir, but—”

  This time he cut me off. “You still do.”

  I stared at him.

  “You do,” he said defensively, as if he thought I didn’t believe him.

  In exasperation, I asked, “Don’t tell me it’s Umir again!”

  “It’s Umir,” Khalid said. “Whoever he is.”

  This annoyed the hoolies out of me, enough that I articulated a rather long litany of swear words. Umir the Ruthless, a very wealthy and powerful tanzeer who liked to collect unusual things—even people—had put a bounty on my head to be taken alive for his little competition. He wanted to hire a sword-dancer, and decided the best way of finding the right man for the job was to hold a competition. Winner got the job of dancing against me. I was supposed to be dessert to the main course. “Umir already paid. He paid off Rafiq,” I said. Rafiq and his friends had actually captured me, sick and weakened by sandtiger poison, right here by the lean-to, and delivered me to Umir. “And I killed the winner. And then escaped.” Neither of which was what Umir had in mind.

  Khalid shrugged. “There’s a new bounty, then.”

  Neesha, who had once been Umir’s captive in order to trade him to me in exchange for a book of magic in my possession, swore beneath his breath. “Is he ever going to give up?”

  Del and I together had once been his so-called guests, too; he’d wanted to add Del to his collection. I began to think Umir had been put on this earth just to annoy me.

  I turned and stalked to the trees skirting the edge of the bluff, staring northward toward the Punja. “Umir,” I muttered. “Umir. I’m sick of Umir!” I swung back around to face Khalid. “You’re sure about this. That it’s him.”

  He shrugged. “That’s what I was told.”

  It sounded just like something Umir would do, putting yet another bounty on my head. It had worked before. He’d caught me, but he couldn’t keep me.

  I wished him to hoolies. I turned and walked back toward the circle, muttering and swearing between gritted teeth. I wanted to hit something, preferably Umir’s face. But I did have Khalid to beat up on. That was something.

  “In
Julah I wanted to kill you,” Khalid explained, oblivious to my frustration, “But now I just want to dance. Because if I win, you have to go with me.”

  “Go with you where?”

  His voice rose. “To Umir’s! Where do you think?”

  Neesha started to answer angrily, but I gestured him to silence with a lifted hand. My attention was on Khalid. “What do you know about him?”

  “Just what the sword-dancers told me. That he’s a rich tanzeer. But that’s why I’ve decided not to kill you. It’s about some kind of a book.” He shrugged. “I don’t know why a book matters so much, but it does.”

  “The Book of Udre-Natha,” I told him. “It’s a grimoire, a book of magic. But Umir has it. What in hoolies does he want me for?”

  “He can’t open it.”

  This was pure aggravation. “Of course he can’t open it! I put a spell on it so he couldn’t!”

  “Well,” Khalid said matter-of-factly, “he wants you to take the spell off. At least that’s what they told me. So he’s put a bounty on your head.”

  “Wonderful,” I muttered. “Half the sword-dancers in the South want to kill me, and the other half want to haul me off to Umir’s. Again. Umir and his bounties. It’s ridiculous. It’s stupid. It’s annoying as hoolies.”

  “Maybe you should just kill him,” my son said.

  I glared at him. “Umir doesn’t dance. He doesn’t even fight. He hires people for that. So you’re saying I should just ride in there and lop off his head?”

  Neesha, clearly defensive, brushed a nonexistent smudge of dirt from his burnous. “Well, it was just an idea.”

  Khalid raised his voice. “So if I win the dance, but don’t kill you, you have to come with me to Umir’s.”

  “Good gods,” I said in disgust, “are you a lunatic? Why would I do that?”

  “It’s stupid,” Neesha interjected. “Only a fool would agree to that.”

  Khalid flicked him a glance of pure venom, then looked back at me. “So, will you swear it?”

  “Swear to go with you if I lose?” I very nearly laughed at him. “Why would you want me to swear to anything? I have no honor, remember?”

  Khalid remembered. He chewed briefly at his bottom lip. “Then no swearing. Agreement would work.”

  “And why would you trust my agreement any more than my oath? Khalid, you can’t win this argument. If you want to dance just to dance, we can do that. But it will have nothing to do with Umir.”

  He thought that over, then finally nodded. Bounty or no bounty, defeating the Sandtiger was probably worth more in bragging rights.

  One should always assess his opponent. I registered Khalid’s physique, his posture, the steadiness of hands and eyes. He was somewhat taller than the usual Southroner, somewhat lighter in skin, his eyes were a green-gray color, and his hair was brown, not black. I thought it possible there was some Borderer blood behind him. He looked about the same age as Neesha, which placed him around twenty-five. Young enough to be my son.

  Hoolies, I already had one of those. But I had only known about Neesha for the last two years. “Is your father really your father?” I asked warily.

  Khalid did not know what to make of that. Baffled, he said, “What?”

  “Is your father really your father?”

  “I don’t know!” he declared, clearly frustrated. “Why in hoolies do you care? And what has this to do with a sword-dance?”

  “I’d just like to know. I’m curious by nature.” A glance at Neesha showed me a somewhat stunned expression. He’d wanted to dance against me, too, before he got around to telling me who he was. I could see him doing the math.

  “He wasn’t around for my birth,” Khalid replied flatly. “Nor ever after. So, I’m a bastard. Does that matter?”

  “No,” I told him. “So am I. So is my son.” I tilted my head in Neesha’s direction. “Him.”

  That startled Khalid. “He’s your son?” Then he looked at Neesha. “You’re his son?”

  Simultaneously, Neesha and I answered: “Yes.”

  Khalid shook his head slightly, clearly in disbelief. Then he cheered up. “So. I defeated the Sandtiger’s get.”

  Neesha glowered at him. “Let’s make it two out of three. You’ve got the one.”

  “I’ll save you for tomorrow,” Khalid said airily. “I’ve got your father to beat today.”

  It was fixing to be a lengthy dispute between two cocky young men. Sighing, I walked to the center of the circle and set my sword down. I knew this time Khalid wouldn’t come after me. He’d dance. I walked back to the edge of the circle. “Any time,” I said lightly.

  Khalid walked to the center as well and placed his sword next to mine. Once he’d taken his place opposite me, he looked at Neesha. “Say it.”

  Neesha said it. “Dance.”

  Chapter 5

  IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG. During the second engagement I smashed the sword out of his hands straight to the ground, then butted him just under the ribs with the pommel of my blade. Khalid went down hard, all his breath gone.

  It’s a scary thing, that. You think you’re dying. But then breath begins to come back, after you whoop and gasp for a while. And as he was doing that, I returned to the wagon and sheathed my own blade, laced up my sandals, yanked the burnous over my head, worked the slit over the sword hilt. By the time Khalid was breathing normally again, I was up in the seat, reins gathered and ready to go.

  Khalid got slowly to his feet. “You cheated! You’re not supposed to do that!”

  “What, employ a part of my sword other than the blade? You keep forgetting…I’m a man with no honor, and I’ll do whatever I like.” I glanced at Neesha, who was in the saddle again. “Now,” I said firmly, “I don’t want to see you again. Ever. We’re done. It’s over. You’re not good enough to even step into a circle with me. I’ll beat your ass every time, in any way I can. Do you understand?”

  Khalid picked up his sword. “I’ll go wherever I want.”

  I ignored him and looked at Neesha. “You ready?”

  At his nod, I clicked to the horse and slapped the reins lightly on their rumps. The way was narrow here; Neesha rode in front while I rattled down from the bluff, heading west.

  From behind me, there came a shout. “I’ll go wherever I want!”

  Neesha twisted in his saddle to look back at me. “That was very impressive.”

  “I meant it to be.”

  “I’ve never seen any man disarm an opponent so quickly.”

  “I was feeling magnanimous. I gave him two engagements, instead of one, before dumping him on his butt.”

  Neesha laughed. “That’s humble.”

  “The Sandtiger,” I said decisively, “is never humble.”

  He quoted me, “‘You’re not good enough to even step into a circle with me. I’ll beat your ass every time, in any way I can.’”

  “He’s not, and I will.”

  “He may not believe you.”

  “He’d better.”

  “He’s young and stupid.”

  “He’s your age, or close to it.”

  “But I’m not stupid.”

  “Look out for that branch.”

  Neesha whipped his head around, leaned sideways so that the branch only slid over his shoulder, and turned to look back at me. “You could kill him. Then he wouldn’t be around to bother you anymore.”

  I was incredulous. “What is it with you? You’ve become bloodthirsty all of a sudden. Kill Umir, kill Khalid. I don’t want to kill anyone!”

  “It just seems to me it would solve two problems.”

  “Well, yes, so it would. But that’s not how I’m made.”

  Neesha grinned. “I didn’t think so. Good. I don’t want a father who kills without compunction.”

  “You know me better than that.”

  The track was wide enough now. Neesha dropped back to ride beside me. “Actually, I don’t, you know. It’s only been two years since we met, and all you’ve been doing
is teaching. That’s only part of the measure of a man.”

  “And another measure of a man—of me—is that I don’t just kill people.”

  “Unless they try to kill you.”

  I had to agree with that. “Well, yes. It does provide a little motivation in that regard.”

  “You’ll do it again.”

  “Kill?”

  “Kill.”

  I waved a dismissive hand. “Only if they insist.”

  Del stared at me in shock. “Umir? Umir?”

  I pulled a large bag out of the wagon and shouldered it. “That’s what I said.”

  She grabbed a smaller bag and followed me into the house. “Umir?”

  “Yup. At least, that’s what I was told.” I set the bag down beside the kitchen wash basin. “I have no reason to disbelieve the kid who told me. Umir’s done it before.”

  “I thought we were all done with him when you traded the book for Neesha.”

  “So did I. But he is once again making himself a thorn in the ointment.”

  Del’s expression was one she wore whenever a Southron saying was alien to her Northern upbringing. “Ointment doesn’t get thorns.”

  “Thorn in our sides,” I amended. “Fly in the ointment.” The wagon was now officially unloaded. Neesha had undertaken seeing to the team. “Maybe it’s just as well we’re going to visit other environs for a while. I don’t think it’s a secret anymore, where we live.” Not now that sword-dancers had come to visit, intending to kill me. Umir’s bounty would dedicate even more of them to finding me. Though at least Umir didn’t want me dead. “Where’s Sula?”

  “With Lena. Alric’s off hunting dinner.”

  I grunted. “She’s over there so much she may not even miss us.”

  “Well, I guess that’s a good thing if Umir captures us,” Del said dryly. “We’d best go practice.”

  “Practice what?”

  She took her sword down from the high-set pegs. “Sparring. You and me. Students are not what we’ll meet in the Punja or even up by the border.”

  I was still in harness, myself, so I stripped out of my burnous, out of leather and buckles. I unsheathed my sword and hung the harness on one of the pegs. “Why would we go up near the border?”