Sword Maker-Sword Dancer 3 (51 page)

"I have no intention of stepping into the circle without being careful, if that's what you're afraid of. Hoolies, bascha, you'd think I'd never danced before!"

Del looked directly at me. "How many times have you been wounded in the circle?"

"More times than I can count."

"How many times have you been seriously wounded in the circle?"

I shrugged. "Two or three times, I guess. It happens to all of us."

"And how many times have you come very close to death in the circle?"

"All right," I said, "once. You know that as well as I."

"And you have not danced a proper dance since then."

The defensiveness was abrupt. "I'm not afraid, if that's what you mean."

Del didn't smile. "Of course you're afraid."

"Del--"

"I saw it, Tiger. I was in the circle, remember? The last time you tried to dance, the fear drove you out."

I forgot all about Massou and Adara and Alric. "That was fear for you! It had nothing to do with me." Angrily, I glared. "You have no idea what it was like for me seeing you sprawled on the ground with steel in your ribs. You don't know

what I felt. You don't know what I thought. When I stepped into that circle on

our way to Ysaa-den, I was on Staal-Ysta again."

"All I could think about was that dance, and I was afraid it might happen again."

Del drew Boreal. "Then dance with me now."

"Now? Are you sandsick? Besides, you're supposed to go meet with Bellin, remember? He'll have information about Ajani."

"Now," she said coolly. "A warm-up will do you good. It will loosen all your muscles... quiet your noisy knees."

"Oh, good," came from Massou, before Adara could hush him.

Hoolies, hoolies, hoolies. I don't want to do this.

So tell the bascha no.

Not so easy to do.

Especially when she's right.

I wiped the blade clean. Glanced up at the sun. Knew we had the time. "Alric?"

He nodded. "I'll play arbiter."

Adara, muttering, forcibly dragged Massou to the end of the alley. He protested,

of course, but she didn't let him go. Eventually he subsided, since she threatened to take him away entirely if he didn't shut his mouth.

There was no need for a circle, so we didn't bother to draw one. We just faced

one another in silence, took the measure of each other, thought our private thoughts.

Mine were not happy ones. I don't know what hers were.

"Dance," Alric said.

Hoolies, but I don't want--

Too late, Tiger. Nothing to do but dance.

Nothing to do but sing--

No--don't sing--

Don't give Chosa Dei the chance--

Northern steel clashed. The sound filled up the alley.

Get looser, I thought. Get looser--

Del's blade flashed. In and out of shadow, slicing the sun apart. Shattering the

daylight with the brilliance of magicked steel.

Gods, but she can dance--

Well, so can I.

Of their own accord, my feet moved. I felt the acknowledgment of muscles too long kept from the circle; the sharpening of eyes. Focus came back quickly, blocking out the alley, the sun, the others gathering. All I saw was Del. All I

heard was Del: the sloughing of her feet, the keening of her steel, the breathy

exhalations.

This is the true dance, where two perfectly balanced halves come together at last and form a perfect whole. This is a dance of life, of death, of continuity;

the world within seven paces. Nothing else exists. Nothing is as important.

Nothing can fill the need the way a proper sword-dance can, danced with a proper

opponent.

There is no other for me.

Ah, yes, bascha... show me how to dance.

And then, abruptly, my sleeping sword awoke. Chosa Dei awoke. I felt him swarm

through the blade from wherever it was he lived. Felt him test my strength.

Felt

him gather himself. Knew what he meant to do.

Confusion diluted the focus, seeping through concentration: But I haven't sung.

I haven't even thought of singing.

Chosa Dei didn't care. Chosa Dei was awake.

Oh, bascha--bascha--

She felt it in the swords. Tasted it in the air, in the acrid stink of magic.

And jerked her blade from mine, falling back two steps. "Control it!" she cried.

"Control it! You have the power; use it!"

I could feel it--feel him--trying to leave the sword. Trying to creep up the blade to the hilt, where he could make contact with my hands. Once it was made,

I was lost, because the flesh is much too weak. He'd nearly taken Nabir--he had

taken Nabir--he'd unmade Nabir's feet--

What would he do to me?

I stood in the center of the alley clutching the blooding-blade, wondering how

to fight it. How to beat it, before it beat me.

"Control it," Del repeated. "You have the strength; use it!"

Power, she'd said. Strength.

The blade was turning black.

Use it, she'd said. Use it.

Do I know how to do that?

Hoolies, of course I do. I'm the Sandtiger.

No one defeats me.

Not even Chosa Dei.

"Yes!" Del shouted. "Yes!"

I must be doing it right.

Samiel, I whispered. But only inside my head. Nabir had said it aloud. Nabir had

put me at risk.

Or was it Chosa Dei?

Samiel, I repeated. But only inside my head.

Del's face swam into my vision. A sweat-glossed, laughing face. "I told you you

could do it--but you never want to believe me!"

I was panting. Breathing like a bellows. I felt the twinge in my midriff: knurled scar tissue had been pulled. Hands still clenched the sword, clamped around the grip. Knuckles shone white.

"It's--done?" I looked down at the sword in my hands. "Did I do it?"

She nodded, still grinning. "You drove him back down, Tiger. This time without

the simoom. This time without the heat. This time with just yourself. With the

strength from inside here." She put a hand to my heart. "And you have it in abundance."

I frowned, looking at the blade. "But it's still black. The tip. Chosa Dei's still in there."

She nodded, withdrawing her hand. "He's not banished. Only beaten. Banishment will take time. We have to discharge it properly."

And for that, we needed more magic. We needed Shaka Obre.

"Tiger?" Alric's voice. "Tiger--can you come? Something's upset your stud.

He's

trying to tear down the house."

Now I could hear it. He was stomping and pawing and kicking, squealing his displeasure.

"It's the magic," I muttered resignedly. "He hates it as much as I do."

I sheathed my defeated sword and went in to see the stud. He was indeed trying

to tear down the house; he pawed chunks of crumbling brick and ancient mortar out of the wall, grinding it into the dirt.

"All right," I said, "you can stop now. I've put the sword away." I stepped in

through the door, entering the "stable."

"You're not going anywhere, so you may as well be qu--"

He let loose with both hind hooves. One of them caught my head.

Voices.

"Alric--get him out--"

"I can't, Del--the stud's broken his tie-rope... he won't let me near him--"

A spate of unintelligible words in a language I didn't know, or else I had forgotten.

The same male voice. "I know, Del--I know... but how can I drag him out if the

stud won't let me near him?"

A woman's voice answering: frightened, angry, impatient."--need a horse-speaker--" Then, abruptly, "Get Garrod--"

A boy's voice: "I will!"

"Then hurry, Massou--hurry!"

I was flat on my back in the dirt.

Why am I in the dirt?

Tried to sit up. Couldn't. All I could do was twitch.

The woman's voice again. "Tiger--stay still! Don't try to move."

Eyes won't open.

Everything sounds distorted.

"Tiger--don't move... don't give him a second chance."

Give who what second chance?

"Is he bleeding?"

"I can't tell."

Why would I be bleeding?

Sharply: "Don't try it, Del. I don't need two of you down."

"I can't leave him there, Alric. The stud's liable to stomp his head in."

Someone was moving around me. No--something. It breathed heavily. Pawed.

Moved

around me again.

Now a new voice. "Where is--oh. Here, give me room."

"Tiger, don't move."

Don't worry, I don't think I can.

"Talk to him, Garrod. Tell him to let us in so we can get Tiger out."

Silence, except for nearby scraping. I tasted dust. Felt it. It feathered across

my face. I tried to lift an arm to brush the dust away, but nothing did what I

wanted. All I did was twitch.

The scraping stopped. I smelled the tang of sweat and fear. Something was afraid.

"Now," said a quiet voice.

Hands. They touched me, grasped me, dragged me.

Hoolies, don't drag me--my head will fall off my neck--

"Here," someone said, and they put me down again.

"Is he alive?"

Hoolies, yes. I wouldn't be anything else.

Something pressed my chest. "Yes." Relief. "Yes,"

I tried to open my eyes. This time I succeeded.

Not that it did much good. What I saw wouldn't stay still.

"Bascha?" My voice was weak. "Del--what happened?"

"The stud tried to kick your head off."

"He wouldn't--"

"He almost did."

Memory snapped back. "Hoolies--" I blurted. "The dance--"

"Tiger--Tiger no--"

I lurched into a sitting position, thrusting away the hands. "I have to go--the

dance--" And then clutched my head.

Del sounded exasperated. "You're not going anywhere."

Through the pain, I gritted it out. "Abbu will be waiting. All of them will be

waiting--"

"You can't even stand up."

It even hurt to blink. "Too much depends on the dance... they agreed, all the tanzeers... if I don't dance, Hadjib and his followers win--there'll be war--oh,

hoolies ..."

Everything went gray around me. I lingered on the edges, wondering which way I

would fall.

"Tiger?"

I yanked my senses back. "--have to get up," I mumbled. "Someone help me up."

"Postpone the dance," Del said. "Do you want me to see to it?"

"They won't--there's no--I don't think--" Hoolies, it was hard to think.

Harder

yet to talk. "I won't forfeit this dance."

Del's face was tight. "They won't expect you to dance when you're in this kind

of shape."

"Doesn't matter... Abbu will claim victory, and there'll be no chance for peace--"

She took her hand from my arm. Her tone was very cold. "Then if you must do this, get up and walk out of here. Now. Waste no more time on weakness."

I rocked forward, slopped over onto an elbow, tried to gather legs. It took me

two tries. Then I staggered to my feet.

Only to fall again. This time to my knees. And eventually to a hip, levered up

on an elbow. I shut my eyes, shut my teeth, tried to wait it out. Begging the pain and sickness to wane.

"I'll postpone it," she said.

I was sweating. "You can't... bascha, you can't... they'll claim forfeit--they

have the right...Abbu would win, and Hadjib would win... we can't afford to lose--"

"We can't afford to lose you."

"--sick--" I muttered tightly.

"You've been kicked in the head," she said curtly. "What do you expect?"

Maybe a bit more sympathy--no, not from Del. Too much to hope for.

And then another voice intruded. A husky, male voice, asking after me.

Mentioning the dance.

He came through the doorway. I blinked up at him dazedly, trying not to vomit.

It was very hard to think clearly.

"Ah," Abbu remarked, "one way of avoiding the truth." He glanced at the others,

then looked back at me. "I came over to see what was keeping you. Everyone is gathered. Everyone is waiting." He smiled. "Your lord Esnat came close to forfeiting, but I said I would come here myself. It's very irregular, of course... but I want this dance too badly. I've waited too many years."

It was all I could do to lift my head high enough to see the sun without spewing

my belly across the floor. "I'll be there," I mumbled; the sun glared balefully

down from directly overhead.

Abbu Bensir laughed.

Del's tone was deadly. "Will you accept another dancer in his place?"

"Oh, bascha--"

Del ignored me. "Will you?"

"--South," I slurred. "Do you think Abbu or anyone else will accept a woman in

my place?"

Del only looked at Abbu.

He was, above all, a Southroner: old habits die very hard. But every man can change, given reason enough to do so.

Abbu Bensir smiled. "It's the Sandtiger I want--but that can wait a little.

You

are no disgrace to the circle."

Del nodded once.

Abbu glanced at me. "Another time, Sandtiger... first I will beat your bascha."

"Go," Del said coolly.

Abbu Bensir went.

Time to protest again. "--can't--Del... Del--" I sucked in a breath. "You have

to go look for Ajani." The world was graying out. "You have to go meet Bellin,

to find out where Ajani is... bascha, you have to go... you've waited too long

already--"

Del knelt down by me. She put a hand to my temple and drew away bloody fingers.

The look in her eyes was odd.

I squinted through the fog. "You have to find Ajani."

Her tone was very fierce. "To hoolies with Ajani."

"Dell--wait--come back--"

But Del didn't wait.

And Del didn't come back.

Sixteen

He knelt next to me. I looked him in the eye. "Am I dying?" I asked. "Is there

something I should know?"

Alric smiled. "No. You only feel like it. Here." He gave me a bota. "Drink a little of this. It'll make you feel better."