Read The Phoenix Guards Online
Authors: Steven Brust
The Phoenix Guards (10 page)
The first to clash were Pel and Uilliv, which fight was also the shortest, as Pel put on such a fierce expression and charged so strongly, that, after only a few passes, Uilliv stumbled backward and lost his sword. Pel knocked aside the other’s knife and placed the point of his own weapon against his opponent’s neck, whereupon Uilliv promptly admitted to being beaten.
Aerich, having assumed a defensive posture, awaited Rekov’s attack. The latter, apparently wishing to end the combat quickly, made a strong attack which, however, was brushed aside by Aerich’s vambraces, which he used in lightning-fast but graceful sweeping motions, each one of which created an opening for either his sword or his dagger. The Lyorn warriors, however, are trained to kill or disable at a single stroke, and disdain openings that will not end the combat.
Rekov, at first puzzled by Aerich’s failure to attack, and disturbed by the cool expression on his countenance, began to attack with less caution, until Aerich saw the chance he was waiting for, when Rekov’s sword was caught between Aerich’s vambraces and yet Rekov’s dagger was far out of line, holding his balance. At this time Aerich made his first move forward, a single step that caused Rekov to twist to his left, presenting Aerich with his back. Since this was what he’d been waiting for, Aerich lost no time in striking downward with his poniard past Rekov’s collarbone, while simultaneously cutting into his side with his sword. The Dragonlord gave a low moan and crumbled to the ground.
Tazendra, after having made a great show, charged Kurich’s longsword, which was flashing in such an intimidating manner that she was forced to back out again. She charged once more, but was again forced to retreat, this time trailing blood from a deep cut on her left shoulder.
“First blood to me!” cried Kurich.
“But last to me,” said Tazendra, striking with such force that the Dragonlord’s weapon was brought far out of line, whereupon she charged yet again and, in backing up, Kurich tripped over Rekov’s body, at which time Tazendra nailed him to the ground with her greatsword, which had a specially sharpened point for just such maneuvers.
Khaavren and his opponent had similar styles; that is, they both covered a great deal of ground, chasing each other all about the area, stepping around or over obstacles, and engaging each other with quick strokes, using mostly the tips of their blades, and searching for openings on the wrist or the leg. Dekkaan, in fact, had already scored two light scratches on Khaavren’s knife hand. Khaavren, however, seemed not to notice, but still smiled fully into the smile of his opponent.
After some length of time, Dekkaan said, “I believe you are bleeding, my friend.”
“Well,” said Khaavren, “it doesn’t disturb me.”
“That’s well. I’d hate to lose you easily.”
“The Gods,” said Khaavren. “I hope to give a good game.”
“Then you should have a care for your knife hand, which you hold too low.”
“Good,” said Khaavren. “You give me a lesson. That’s kind. But then, you perceive, with my knife low it is ready to flick at a good angle any time you cut for my side, and the proof is that you have not done so in some time.”
“Well, but then your head is exposed, and I would think you need it.”
“Certainly, when you try to take it, ah, there it is!” As he said this, Khaavren ducked below a sweeping cut for his head and stepped to his left, causing Dekkaan’s right side to be exposed. Rather than attacking, however, he took half a step backward, for the Dragon, realizing how exposed he was, made a panicked sweep with his sword which ended far out of line to the right. At this point Khaavren moved in and cut Dekkaan’s knife arm, while burying his poniard in his body.
The Dragonlord groaned and fell to his knees, dropping both of his weapons. “Cracks in the Orb,” he said, “I think you’ve killed me.”
Khaavren knelt beside him and said, “I don’t think so, my friend, for I felt my knife was stopped by your ribs.”
“Well, then, I give you the contest, but if you love me at all help me to a physicker.”
“I can do that, I think, the more so since my friends are able to help me.” Then he looked up and said, “Come, let us get these brave men to a healer.”
“Well,” said Tazendra, “I’m afraid I’ve killed mine, but I’ll help with the others.” Whereupon Khaavren and Tazendra assisted Dekkaan, while Pel and Aerich carried Rekov, with assistance of Uilliv. Afterwards, clapping each other on the back, they went to celebrate at an inn favored by G’aereth’s Company, and allowed those of the troop who were there to buy them as much as they could drink.
In Which we Learn a Bit of Personal History about Tazendra
T
HAT CELEBRATION CONTINUED WELL INTO the night, until everyone had either been taken home by friends or had passed out at table. The only ones still awake, in fact, were Khaavren, who never drank excessively due to an experience early in his childhood, and Tazendra, who seemed able to drink the Dragaera River, were it wine, and still retain most of her faculties. The innkeeper himself, overcome with fatigue from supplying the necessities for a festival of which he’d no advance warning, was sitting on a chair in the corner, snoring as loudly as any of his patrons.
HAT CELEBRATION CONTINUED WELL INTO the night, until everyone had either been taken home by friends or had passed out at table. The only ones still awake, in fact, were Khaavren, who never drank excessively due to an experience early in his childhood, and Tazendra, who seemed able to drink the Dragaera River, were it wine, and still retain most of her faculties. The innkeeper himself, overcome with fatigue from supplying the necessities for a festival of which he’d no advance warning, was sitting on a chair in the corner, snoring as loudly as any of his patrons.
Khaavren set his glass carefully on the table, for though it was only his fifth in as many hours, still he felt that his head was beginning to swim. “Well,” he said carefully, “it was a well-done piece of work today.”
“You think so?” said Tazendra.
“I am sure of it.”
“Well, then I’m satisfied. The Orb! Did you mark our friend Pel?”
“What of him?”
“The look on his face while he fought. Who would have thought such a thing of a Yendi? We had not yet engaged, so I was able to observe his battle, and hang me for a thief if I’d not have surrendered myself if I saw his countenance charging me, as if all the were-beasts of the Paths had been let loose. And then, when his man had surrendered, he was as polite as an Issola. ‘Good sir, you have given me your sword, be assured I will keep it among my valued heirlooms.’ Were those not his words, good Khaavren?”
“To the very expression, Tazendra. And did you not as well admire our friend Aerich? He stood like a mountain of iron, impervious and unmoved, and then, when he saw his chance, Kieron’s Boots! Such speed!”
“That is true. He reminded me of—” Tazendra abruptly broke off her speech and turned red.
“Well, of who?”
“Ah, it is of no importance.”
“Come now, good Tazendra. Let there be no secrets among us.”
“No, no, it matters not. Come, let me get you more wine. But what is this, there is no bottle and the innkeeper asleep? Well, we will help ourselves, then, and here’s some good sausages to go with it, for you know I
dislike drinking without eating at the same time. It is said to be bad for the health. Hence, we will satisfy our gastronomical needs and our palates at the same time.”
dislike drinking without eating at the same time. It is said to be bad for the health. Hence, we will satisfy our gastronomical needs and our palates at the same time.”
“Tazendra, you reason like an Athyra. Yet don’t expect me to match you glass for glass; you are aware that I drink but a little.”
“My god, I think so! Here I am with the remains of four good bottles of Ailor, and you have only finished a bottle of Khaav’n, which, if I am not mistaken, our good friend Tuci helped you with.”
“But what then, we can not all be Dzurlords.”
“Ah, that is true, and, if truth be known, I think it would be a dull world if all were.” Tazendra, who had drained her glass and filled another by this time, went on to say, “My mother, the Countess, used to say, ‘Remember, we are only one part of this great body of Empire. And if we hold on to the valor, then others must needs take care of the rest.’”
“A wise woman, your mother,” said Khaavren. “And, no doubt, a valorous one.”
“Of a certainty she was. Who would have thought she—” and Tazendra broke off here, frowning.
“You were saying?” said Khaavren.
“I? I was saying nothing.”
“Oh, indeed, you were speaking of the valor of your mother.”
“Bah! It means nothing.”
“Oh, but come, Tazendra, she must have been bold enough for two Dzurlords; where else could you have gotten such courage? For we all know that character passes from mother to daughter, just as from father to son. Cracks in the Orb, haven’t the Dragon wizards proved it?”
Tazendra said, in a whisper Khaavren could barely hear, “And yet she ran.”
“Bah. From what?”
“From a battle she was losing.”
“What? Is it true?”
“It is what I was told. One day while I was still a child, barely thirty years of age, in fact, there was a great rumbling which woke me up. My mother and father and my nurse came into my chamber, and I remember my mother was wearing her cutting sword, not the thrusting sword, and my father wore a leather harness from which hung his greatsword and a dagger. I said, ‘But why are you armed? They only shook their heads, and hugged me and entrusted me to the care of the nurse.”
“Well, and what then?”
“Then I was taken out of our castle, and I never saw them again. I was later told that they had been attacked by an army of Dragonlords hired by someone who coveted our holdings, and that they had been cut down by sorcery as they’d tried to flee the battle.”
“But what of their own army?”
“Army? They had no army.”
“But then, it was the two of them against a battalion of Dragonlords?”
“Exactly.”
“And you think they should have fought?”
“Well, they should not have run.”
“I will never understand the Dzur,” said Khaavren. “But then, who was this enemy?”
“That,” said Tazendra, “I never found out, though I long to know.”
“But, if he took your holdings, couldn’t you find out who now owns them?”
“Well, I was, in fact, just setting out to discover this when I happened to meet you and Aerich in that charming little town. But now that I have joined the Guards, my time is not my own.”
“Cha! We are allowed leaves from time to time. You could use one for your search, could you not?”
“I nearly think so. Will you help me in this search?”
“I should be delighted to.”
“Well, we will consider the matter to-morrow, then.”
“We will do so.”
It happened, however, that Tazendra, who had had a great deal to drink, didn’t recall this conversation for some time, and since Khaavren had also been drinking, the thought likewise didn’t cross his mind.
Nevertheless, it is the case that from this day forward the four friends were firmly and irrevocably accepted into the brotherhood of the Red Boot Company of the Imperial Guard, and passed many a gay evening dicing, playing cards, and drinking with their new comrades.
On one such occasion, at an inn which was called The Rose Bush, Khaavren chanced to be sitting near a window with Aerich on his right and Pel on his left as they watched Tazendra, who was engaged in losing a good sum of money, playing with two gentlemen of the House of the Iorich. Pel had engaged Khaavren in an animated discussion comparing two of the more common breeds of horse, about which Pel seemed to know enough to startle Khaavren, while Khaavren was expert enough to surprise Pel. Aerich, as was usual, merely listened.
“You cannot deny,” said Khaavren, “that the Megaslep is rather slow, and, in fact, has little endurance.”
“I do not deny this,” said Pel. “Yet it is of high intellect, and can be trained easily.”
“Oh, as to training, yes. But the Browncap can also be trained, save for the stallions, which are often unmanageable. The Browncap is, moreover, faster for shorter distances, can run longer, and carry more weight. Should I be called upon to enter into battle on horseback, its courage would serve as well as its other virtues.”
“Well, then,” said Pel, “I admit to you that were I to enter a campaign, as seems likely enough, I could wish for nothing more than a Browncap mare or gelding, and yet—”
“Well,” said Khaavren. “What then?”
“I only wish to say this: there are other uses for horses than to ride to campaigns upon them.”
“Indeed, yes,” said Khaavren. “You refer to draught animals, or to carriage beasts?”
“I was thinking more of the pretty little Megaslep.”
Khaavren shook his head, “And of what use is such an animal, then?”
“Well, you understand, the Megaslep is a fine animal to be seen on, both for its features and its gait. And under certain circumstances, one might wish for nothing more than a fine-looking animal, impractical though it may be.”
“Under what circumstances are these?” asked Khaavren, as Tazendra won a small sum back and began her turn at dealing out the cards.
“Well, for example,” said Pel, “if you will look out on the street there, you will see a young man of the House of the Phoenix, leading a Longear mare. The gentleman is engaged in an animated conversation with a lady of the same House. It seems that, should he actually wish to impress her, he might have a little Megaslep to dance for her, and bow its—but stay, good Khaavren, what is the cause of that remarkable expression which has just crossed over your features?”
For, in fact, Khaavren was staring quite fixedly at the Phoenix lady his friend had just pointed out, and he realized that she was none other than the lady with whom he had traveled, she in the guise of an Issola, on his journey to Dragaera City. “A moment, good Pel,” he said, “but I believe I recognize someone I have seen before. Allow me a moment to discover if I am deceived.”
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