Night Calls the Raven (Book 2 of The Master of the Tane) (22 page)

“Then let the test begin,” Kardosh grunted, a slight smile tickling the edges of his mouth. “The one left drawing breath shall stand with the
Rena’ja
.”

So it ends
, Renja thought and turned to face Kardosh, his swords held up and ready. Kardosh raised his eyebrows and then shook his head, the smile full grown on his face. “Not me,” he said, pointing across the crowd.

Renja followed his finger and watched as the people suddenly gave way allowing another figure to enter the ring. His mouth dropped. “It can’t be.”

Jne leveled her gaze on him, the fire in her eyes hot and raging. In the blink of an eye her swords appeared in her hands and she rushed forward in a fury of strokes meant to end the contest quickly. Kardosh barely moved away in time to miss catching one of her swings with his own throat as the Tjal woman bore down on Renja.

Renja’s hands instinctively brought up his swords to block her downward thrust but he was too late to catch the slice across his chest. He felt the blade dig in just as he twisted away from the blow bringing both swords in front of him as he did so to catch any other attacks. Jne had missed judged though, thinking her first strike would end the contest she left Renja enough time to gather himself. Blood seeped from the wound turning the front of his shirt red but it was not bad enough to cause any immediate concern. He ignored the pain and kept a sharp focus on his opponent.

Jne’s face betrayed her obvious disbelief that he still stood and had not been severed in two by her vicious onslaught. Again the hate and anger clouded her eyes and she howled as she bore in on him. Renja was better prepared this time though and her blows were deflected as she shot in low and then reversed both cuts attacking his neck and midsection. Renja was hard pressed to keep her steel from his skin but miraculously deflected her attacks while backing away and giving ground.

Jne did not stop this time though as her swords worked their way in, each blow getting closer and closer to hitting its mark. It was all he could do to move his swords in time to catch hers as each slice, each thrust, became harder and harder to deflect. One of her swords suddenly cut through his defenses as she thrust in low and then changed to a slice across his leg; a move designed to cripple her opponent.

Again Renja found luck was his friend as his foot caught in a rut sending him back just as Jne’s sword swept in. The sword still sliced across his thigh but had missed its intended target, which would have severed his leg completely. He grunted from the pain as he hit the ground and rolled to the left as Jne’s blade’s buried themselves in the dirt close enough to his back to cut his shirt.

He took a gamble and kicked his legs back as hard as he was able; knowing that to fail would mean certain death. Jne was just pulling her swords and aiming for the killing blow when his legs connected with hers knocking her off balance. An audible gasp escaped the crowd as Jne’s body went crashing to the ground. Renja jumped to his feet, glancing briefly at the gash on his thigh. Like the one on his chest, it hurt and bled but would not kill him too quickly from loss of blood. He knew he needed to change his strategy if he were to live much longer. Though a few small cuts would not harm him, many would bleed him out fast. He had to go on the offensive and thought now was his chance but Jne was up too quickly and he found himself backing away again in desperation. He would not last like this.

“You will die painfully for that,
Renja
,” she hissed, her swords flashing in a flurry of steel. Renja met her attacks as best he could, giving ground and circling around as he did so. The loss of blood and the lack of rest were beginning to affect him though, and he could tell that his parrying strokes were getting slower and weaker while Jne still seemed fresh. Again a sword slipped through and Renja felt the burning gash in his left shoulder and then again on his arm. The blood was slipping down to his left hand now mingling with his sweat and making it difficult to grip his blade. His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing was becoming labored as Jne continued her assault. He could feel the desperation beginning to well up inside of him. Death loomed just outside the circle now and was pushing its way in, drawing ever closer, reaching for him.

He ducked just missing a cleaving cut that would have taken off his head and then brought up his sword to block Jne’s as she brought the cut back down. Her other sword snaked in towards his midsection but was turned away just enough to pierce through his shirt just barely slicing past his side. Suddenly, Jne’s face was right in front of his and Renja found his opening. Snapping his head forward, he connected with her right eye sending her flailing back, her eyes wide in shock. For the second time he had managed to score a hit, albeit neither had been with his sword and neither caused any damage compared to what he was suffering. The crowd erupted. Not in support of Renja but in utter disbelief that once again Jne had taken a hit. Renja vaguely caught glimpses of people arguing and money changing hands as a whirl of activity suddenly exploded around him.

This time he did not hesitate. Jne hit the ground and quickly rolled to one side just barely catching Renja’s swords as one sliced at her stomach, the other aimed at her neck. But it was all he got. Jne’s speed and agility were beyond anything he had ever witnessed and once again she was on her feet and moving to attack. The pad under her eye was swelling slightly obscuring her vision but it was not enough to impede her attacks.

Renja was now bordering on complete exhaustion. Jne raged at him from seemingly every side scoring small nicks and cuts that were getting worse and worse. He knew the end was near. He could feel death entering the circle now as he fought desperately to stay clear of her blades.

The pommel of one of Jne’s swords connected with his face and he felt himself falling to the ground. Death had finally found its way through the crowd and was now standing over him, reaching out its hand to take him. Time suddenly slowed. He watched the faces nearest him staring as he fell towards the dirt, their eyes blank, free of emotion or care. He would die. They expected it and would witness it.

He hit the ground with a grunt but there was no sound, all was quiet. Jne’s body slowly approached towering over him with her swords lifted for the killing strike. He could see the beads of sweat on her forehead, the tiny drop of blood falling from her cheek and coming towards him. He noticed she had positioned herself this time so he could not use his legs to undercut her.

Strangely, the whirlwind that had been twisting in his head since he woke up in the Tjal camp also began to slow. Faces flashed in his mind taunting him, calling him, daring him to remember. He grabbed one and held onto it. It tried to twist away but this time he was able to keep it in focus. It was a girl. He knew her. She was about his age with the same dark hair and features.
I know you
.
I know your name
.
Jne
. He knew that was not right. Jne was still over him, her swords moving slowly towards him anxious for the kill.

He suddenly felt a gentle breeze caress his cheek and he thought he heard it whispering to him,
ArVen
. That was it. She was the wind. No, she was not the wind. She was
of
the wind. The storm of thoughts slowed even more and he smiled.
I know you TamVen
. The face suddenly sneered at him and mocked. “
Thane of the Five Tane, Thane of the Five Tane, ha ha ha
.
Thane of the Five Tane
.” Renja felt the anger growing inside him at her mocking tone and then he stopped and smiled.
Yes
,
I am Thane of the Five Tane
.

His mind suddenly stopped and the shattered pieces that had been floating about in a twist of gibberish crashed together and reformed instantly into coherent thoughts and memories restoring his life and his identity in one great flash.
That’s it
!
I am Thane of the Five Tane
!

“Thane of the Five Tane!”
The words exploded from his mouth and time sped up with a snap. Jne hesitated briefly at his outburst and that was all he needed to roll away pushing death back into the crowd and escaping Jne’s lethal thrusts. Her swords buried deep into the earth giving Thane enough time to regain his feet and bring up his weapons in defense. He knew that she would not stop to hear his discovery of self or renegotiate a dismissal of his previous desire to become Tjal so his only chance to escape death was to beat her. Yet, he had no desire to kill her either. Though he had regained his memory it may have only been in time to know who he was in death.

Jne
turned, her face red with loathing. Her body shook with anger and anticipation. She was beyond reasoning. Thane watched her slowly approach, her fluid motion screaming slaughter. He moved to raise his swords but suddenly stopped. A strange feeling overcame him. It started in his feet and then moved up his legs into his chest and then out into his arms. The fatigue that had been pushing his body to the limits of exhaustion suddenly melted away, leaving him feeling strong and rested.

Jne moved and he lifted his swords, they were light in his hands, almost like natural extensions of his arms. Jne’s blades slashed in and Thane found that his own responded almost
as if on their own. He easily deflected her blows matching her speed and then anticipating her moves and meeting her attacks almost as soon as she swung her swords in any direction.

Jne’s anger and frustration continued to grow until her attacks became desperate and sloppy. For the first time, Thane felt that he had the opportunity, whenever he wanted it, to turn the fight back to his opponent and take the offensive. He was shocked by the sudden change in events but was not willing, at the moment, to put too much thought to it until the fight was over. Things could return to Jne’s advantage just as quickly as they had become his.

He tested his newfound strength and ability by deflecting an obvious ploy to his neck that Jne switched in mid-cut and then slashed for his midsection. Easily deflecting the attack he twisted her blade to the side and shot in with his own aiming for her leg, still not willing to deal a mortal blow. Jne’s eyes widened as his sword made contact piercing through her pant leg and then sliding into her flesh. He pulled the thrust not wanting to cause too much damage and then brought his other sword around and slapped the side of her opposite arm with the flat of the blade. The blow was hard enough to stun her arm causing her to lose her grip on the sword and send it crashing to the ground. The crowd gasped and then went stone silent as Thane brought one sword in low and the other high catching Jne’s lone sword in between his and twisting it free from her hand. She stepped away from him and crouched. Though weaponless, Thane knew she was still dangerous, if not even more lethal, like a cornered animal. He regarded her for a moment and then moved in. He would have to be careful now. Though wanting to win and end the fight, he still did not want to kill her; there was no reason for it.

Jne did not give him the opportunity though. Springing from where she crouched she grabbed his right hand in an attempt to wrest away his sword and then use it against him before he recovered. Thane was just a moment too quick though. The instant her hand gripped his, he
brought his arm back pulling her down and then wrapped it around her bringing one blade up against her throat and the other pressed against the back of her neck. Jne froze, not daring to struggle. She was caught in a steel vice. Any movement would mean instant death.

“Do it,” she said, her voice suddenly very soft and void of the malice that had filled her only seconds before. “I can’t understand how you did it, but you have won. Finish it quickly, Renja, so that my shame may be snuffed out. Kill me and take your place as the first outsider to become Tjal.”

Thane was amazed at the change in her demeanor. No longer could he sense the sheer hatred that had enveloped her almost from the time he had declared his desire to be Tjal. Was it because he had her in a death grip? He quickly rejected the idea. He didn’t think that the thought of death was something that bothered Jne in the slightest. Something had happened, though.

“Someone once told me,” he half whispered into her ear, “one who fights with anger forgets his head giving it to his heart. And a heart with a head always ends up dead.” He was surprised to hear her chuckle.

“Did I not speak true?” Then her voice became firm. “Finish it, Renja.”

Thane pressed the steel harder against her skin. “I will, but before I do,” he said, his own voice a cold whisper, “my name is Thane. Not Renja.” Pulling the swords away, he released her from his grip and pushed her forward, sending her to her knees. Then, looking around for a brief moment, he dropped his swords. It was a gamble, but he no longer wished to fight. No one moved or made a sound. All looked as if they still waited for the end. Jne remained where she had fallen not attempting to rise or return to fight.