The Grace of Kings (32 page)

Namen decided that he had to put an end to the siege of Zudi before his army lost the will to fight. He studied reports of the two commanders of Zudi with care and came up with a plan. If he couldn't get the crafty Duke of Zudi to face him on the battlefield, he would try to provoke the young, hot-blooded Mata Zyndu into playing by his rules.

He began by launching battle kites over the walls of Zudi and dropping pamphlets filled with pictures depicting Kuni Garu and Mata Zyndu dressed in women's clothing and cowering in fear.

Kuni Garu and Mata Zyndu are too scared to fight from within their boudoir,
the pamphlets declared.
Cocru is a nation of cowards with feminine hearts
.

The kite riders jeered and shouted more insults:

“Kuni Garu is the Duchess of Zudi, and Mata Zyndu is her servant girl.”

“Kuni Garu loves to wear makeup! Mata Zyndu prefers perfume!”

“Kuni and Mata squeal in fright even at shadows!”

“Let them say what they want,” Kuni said. He admired the pamphlets and laughed. “I look pretty good as a girl, though I think they are suggesting I lose a few pounds. I have to send some of these to Jia; she could probably use the laugh as I imagine the baby—may the Twins protect the child—is making her life very stressful.”

“What is wrong with you?” Mata Zyndu roared and tore the pamphlet in his hands into pieces. He smashed the table in front of him; then, for good measure, smashed the table in front of Kuni as well. He stomped and ground the broken pieces of wood into even smaller pieces against the stone floor.

But his rage was not assuaged. Not even a little bit. He paced back and forth in front of Kuni, kicking the wooden splinters every which way. Servants scattered to distant corners of the room, away from the barrage.

“What is so bad about being compared to women?” Kuni said. “Half the world is made of women.”

Mata glared at him. “Have you no sense of shame? Where is your honor? These insults cannot be borne.”

Kuni didn't change his tone at all. If anything, he grew even calmer. “These cartoons are very amateurish. I could show Namen many more tricks about how to insult people artfully. For example, the drawings could have been made much more subtle and also much more lewd.”

“What?”
Every part of Mata's body shook with rage.

“Brother, please calm down. This is a good sign. Namen is clearly frustrated that we're not going out there to meet his superior force on the open field. We are dug in, well provisioned, and he's jumping around like a dog trying to deal with a hedgehog, having nowhere to bite. Puma Yemu is straining his supplies, and he's getting desperate. That's why he's using this trick to try to get you to fight on his terms.”

“It's working, though,” Mata said. “I
have
to fight him. I can't stay cooped up like this. If you do nothing, I will order the city gates open and lead a cavalry charge on the morrow.”

Kuni saw that Mata was serious. He pondered and pondered, and then he began to smile.

“I have an idea. You
will
get your satisfaction.”

Mata felt like an eagle who owned the skies. Had he known how wonder­ful flying would feel, he would have done this a long time ago.

Far below him, the streets and houses of Zudi appeared as miniature toys. On the other side of the city walls—from this high up, they looked like low mud ridges dividing rice paddies—Namen's camps spread out like a big painting. He noted their arrangement and layout and counted the tiny dots that were the soldiers.

It was as if he had sprouted great wings made of bamboo and silk on his back, and the sound of the wind whipping against them to lift him aloft was glorious. By leaning this way and that, he could turn, roll, dive, and soar. He felt weightless, free in all three dimensions, and able to fly across all of Dara.

He laughed with the joy of flight.

The only thing that marred the illusion was the long silk rope attached to his harness, which went down to the ground, where Théca Kimo and a few soldiers worked the winch that put tension on the rope and kept him aloft. He waved at the tiny figures below, and one of them, probably Kimo, waved back. The winch crew let out more rope and Mata rose even higher. He turned back to surveying the Imperial camps.

“Is there anyone in old lady Namen's camps willing to fight me?” he shouted, and brandished his sword, still bloody from the last ten kite riders he had cut down in midair.

The giant battle kite strapped to his back—three times the size of regular reconnaissance kites—was Kuni's idea, as was the idea of air duels.

Kuni had sent a herald to the walls of Zudi and announced that they accepted Namen's challenge. But there would be a twist.

“Since General Namen has insulted the honor of Duke Garu and General Zyndu, it's only fitting that the affront be settled in the ancient ways,” the herald called out. “From the Diaspora Wars to the glorious exploits of Marshal Dazu Zyndu, our annals tell us great heroes have always dueled man-to-man. How can we rely on ordinary peasant soldiers to protect the dignity of great nobles? General Zyndu wishes to fight General Namen, one-on-one, and settle this personally.”

“Now that's the sort of thing I wish the nobles said more often,” Dafiro whispered to Ratho. “While they resolve all their disputes this way, the rest of us can go back to planting our harvests and enjoying our lives. Let the kings and dukes get in an arena and fight all their wars with their own two hands. We'll watch and cheer them on.”

“Daf, how can you continue to be so
common
?” Ratho stared at the flying Mata, enraptured. “Aren't you inspired by General Zyndu? I wish you and I could be as brave.”

“They're more stupid than brave, in my opinion. All one of them has to do is aim for the rope, and down the other guy goes.”

Ratho shook his head. “Not even a Xana dog would resort to such a dishonorable trick for victory, and certainly not General Zyndu. Weren't you paying attention during the old shadow puppet plays? Dueling is all about honor, whether on the ground or in the air.”

Dafiro wanted to say more but finally shook his head and held his tongue.

The herald explained that in consideration of General Namen's great age, General Zyndu was willing to duel any champion of Xana in his stead. Since General Namen might be tempted to try to rush General Zyndu with his greater numbers if the duel took place on flat ground, the Duke of Zudi suggested that the duels take place in air, over the walls of Zudi. What could be more fair and honorable?

Namen was stuck and cursed this shameless trick from Kuni Garu. Dueling was not at all what he had in mind. He had hoped that Mata Zyndu and Kuni Garu would be taunted into opening the city gates and agreeing to a field battle between their armies in front of the city, in which case they would surely be crushed. But Kuni had twisted his words around to invoke the outdated ancient ritual of a personal duel between two commanders. If Namen refused, he would be the one to be seen as cowardly, and it would be a blow to the morale of the already depressed Imperial forces.

He gritted his teeth and asked for volunteers from among the strongest soldiers and officers to be designated as the Champion of Xana. One after another, the volunteers rose into the skies, strapped to battle kites, to duel Mata Zyndu in the air.

Cling! Clang! Cliiiiinnggggg!

The kites dove and rose like a pair of great Mingén falcons, and whenever they approached each other, there was a flurry of strikes and blows that rang out in the air. Soldiers from both sides craned their necks and raptly followed the circling fighters in the sky. It was dizzying just watching them turn and dodge like birds.

Mata Zyndu's heart was filled with joy.
This is how all battles
ought to be fought! Kuni truly understands my soul.
His sight, sharper than that of any man who had only one pupil in each eye, seemed to capture his opponent in slow motion. He parried the ineffectual blows casually, and as his strength sent the sword flying from his opponent's hand, he quickly ended the poor man's life with a graceful strike from Na-aroénna against the neck or a quick bash from Goremaw on the skull.

Ten Champions of Xana rose into the air. Ten lifeless corpses fell to the ground. The cheers from within the city of Zudi grew louder and louder, while Namen's camp fell silent.

“He's like Fithowéo coming to life,” Ratho said.

Dafiro did not respond with a joke. For once he was awed into silence. General Mata Zyndu was indeed a god among mere men.

While Mata fought in the air, Kuni stood next to Théca Kimo and watched anxiously. He trusted Mata's prowess and bravery, but he couldn't help the way his heart almost leapt out of his throat as Mata executed one daring maneuver after another, defying death each time.

“Pull it tight!” Kuni muttered to Théca and his men, knowing perfectly well that the winch crew did not need his instructions. They understood that they had to winch the rope tight whenever there was a slack—lest the kite crash to the ground—and then gradually let the line out. Kuni felt like he had to say something anyway to make himself feel useful.

Though they had not known each other long, Kuni was beginning to think of Mata as one of his closest friends—almost family. There was something about Mata's stiff, formal, outdated ideas that endeared him to Kuni. Being with Mata made Kuni want to be better, to rise to Mata's estimation, to be more
noble
. He couldn't bear the thought of losing him.