76 - The duel in Komona’s eyes, end

Though there were tears behind my eyes as always when I remembered how the duel had felt, I couldn’t help but laugh at this. “I know, but that didn’t matter, to what we felt of each other, and so for each other… I know it mattered to the world which of us managed to stick his piece of steel into the other first, and neither of us had changed his plans to do that, but…” I took a deep breath. “I think this may be something that only warriors can understand.”

“Probably,” she said. “And maybe I just asked so as to put off telling you… the next part.”

I took a deep breath. “Well… the Arkan who said a mountainside is different from the Mezem was very correct in one way: the Ring is sand, raked flat. No stones. My dueling habits had become the habits of the Mezem, so my feet were back there. I admit it as a weakness, though; I don’t claim it as an excuse.”

“We all knew it was possible that you’d lose, of course it’s possible… there’d be no duel if you and he weren’t at least close to evenly matched. But in our hearts, of course, we foresaw nothing but you being victorious, because… you know how it is with hearts… the other possibility was unbearable.” Her deep brown eyes stared off into the memory, full of pain.

“You fell… it happened so fast, I didn’t even know why. All I knew was that you were lying on the ground unmoving, and Chirel was out of your hand. The Arkans all erupted into cheering, jumping up and down around us… the war was over, Yeola-e was conquered, they could go home heroes, Kallijas the greatest of all. He raised his sword and I could see he was aiming for your throat… I threw my hands over my eyes, my mind screaming ‘No!’ I couldn’t bear to see that…”

Komona wrapped her arms around me hard and pulled my head onto her shoulder, fingers clenching my hair, as if to hold me safe from death again. I put my arms around her, making sure I intended absolutely nothing but comfort. “As I say, I make no excuses,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, Komona.”

She didn’t answer for a bit; I knew she was mastering tears, so I said nothing, just held her. “Chevenga,” she said finally. “Do you apologize to every Yeoli for this?”

“No. Well… yes. Not usually in person, though. But you were watching.”

She took a deep breath, that quivered in spite of herself, and let go of me, so I let go of her. She took a few more deep breaths, long and even; senahera training, it had to be, since as far as I knew she’d never seen Surya.

“I kept my hands over my eyes. I didn’t want that sight etched in my memory for the rest of my life, to haunt me on bad nights. But then the yelling of the Arkans changed. ‘Kallijas! You are so noble!’ they were crying—some of them, ‘Kallijas, you are too noble!’ So I looked, and saw he hadn’t done it, and heard him tell Abatzas that he wouldn’t because it was through mischance he’d been able to strike you, and so he’d give you a second chance at him.

“I thought my heart would fall out of my chest with relief. But then I thought, could you even get up? By that point you were twitching all over, like a sleeper fighting in his dreams. He’d hit you on the head, I gathered that from what they were saying. Even if you got up, how well would you be able to fight?

“But it was all we had to wish for. I didn’t care what the Arkans did to me for it, I yelled to you to get up as the army did, sending you all the strength by my wishes that I could; we all did, on the wall, and a few of us did get cuffed. We didn’t feel it. Someone else among the Yeolis said, ‘He’s taking his time getting up because the longer he takes the clearer his head will be when they close again…’ Was that true?”

“In part,” I said. “I’ve been remiss, never inviting you to my house; I’ve got a painting, by Haiksilias Lizan, of when Kall knelt beside me to offer me back Chirel. Then again, maybe you wouldn’t want to see it… it might bring it all back too vividly.”

“Kall… that’s what you call him?” I hadn’t even noticed myself saying it. “It’s so beautiful, how you and he ended up, after that.”

“Yes.” How we are reminded of our blessings, when someone else is struck by them. I felt a warmth all over. “As I lay there, what I was thinking was that if the same had happened to him, I wouldn’t have been so merciful. So I should concede.”

She stared at me. “Chevenga! You didn’t!”

“I… well, you were all exhorting me to get up, so, you know… semana kra. By warrior’s honour, I should concede; by semanakraseye’s honour, I should not. I chose what I had to.”

She took my face between her hands, and looked very firmly into my eyes. “Yes, you did. An entire nation might never have forgiven you in all eternity if you’d conceded. I don’t understand why you even considered it… another one of these warrior things?”

“Yes. I chose as I chose, but my conscience will never feel entirely at ease about it. Because… if the same had happened to him—I wouldn’t have killed him while he was down because that wasn’t the stakes, and I loved him, but I’d have put Chirel to his throat and demanded his concession, which I know he’d have given. So when it was me… don’t you see what I mean?”

“Yes, I do, but you’d have demanded his concession so as to take back Vae Arahi. Semanakraseye’s honour.”

I took a deep breath. “Yes.” She let go my face to lift up my sword-hand, kiss it and press it to her brow. “This Yeoli thanks you, as do all, and demands, on behalf of all, as I can’t imagine every red-blooded Yeoli wouldn’t agree with me on this, that you, semanakraseye, forgive yourself.”

I heaved a long sigh. “The point’s well-taken. It doesn’t help that…”

“You love him. I can understand that. But… I’m not one inclined to bets, but I would wager my last ankarye that he’s forgiven you entirely.”

It suddenly came back to mind how often, when we’d been in our teens, she’d bested me in debating. “If it’s ever legal again for me to own ankaryel,” I said, “I owe you one.”

“When you take a much-bemoaned but well-earned retirement after some admirable number of decades in office, my Chevenga, I’ll collect,” she said smiling, while a hot shock ran through me from her saying ‘my Chevenga.’ “May I ask, if you wouldn’t have killed him, why was he going to kill you?”

“Because those were the stakes. If I won, we got Vae Arahi; if he won, my life was forfeit. Not quite even, I know, but that was the way to lure them into it, and if you’re in a duel the other might kill you anyway—when I made the challenge, I was guessing he hated me. But also, by the usual Arkan practice, if he won, he ought to turn me over to his general for a proper execution. He knew Kurkas had tortured me, and Abatzas was a friend of Kurkas’s, and so might give me to him. He wasn’t going to let that happen.”

Komona smoothed my too-long forelock away from my eyes, and looked into them searchingly. “You know… you’ve lived a life I can barely imagine. It’s like another world. I don’t know how you bear it.”

“Even after being the slave of Eosenas Shit-Gobbler or whatever-and-who-cares-what his name was? You bore that. How did you?”

She touched her crystal circle pendant. “All-Spirit got me through.” She poked my shoulder pointedly. “Chevenga, don’t even speak hatefully, on my account. I don’t put up with it from anyone, as I value the health of every soul.”

“I retract.”

“Good. But Eosenas didn’t torture me—not like Kurkas did you. And it’s also… carrying so much on your one pair of shoulders. So you have to do things like propose a duel, all or nothing for the entire people down to one moment, and you can do them without utter terror turning you into a gibbering idiot. I can’t imagine that.”

“A gibbering idiot wouldn’t do Yeola-e much good.”

“I don’t think that would stop most people from becoming one, in your place. Chevenga… I guess I mean… I once thought I understood you. It was a childish thought. I don’t; I can’t. I couldn’t even do it with chiravesa, I don’t think… there is too much I do not and cannot know.”

We were holding hands then, her slender smooth fingers that had never so much as bruised another living creature, interlaced with my thick callused ones, that had the blood of hundreds of thousands on them.

“I understand, Komona,” I said. “There are some chasms too wide even for love to cross.” Her hand tightened on mine. I returned it. “I’m not sure I agree, but I respect.”

“Between you and Kallijas, the chasm would seem immeasurable—born of such different peoples, and at war against each other. But he could understand you at a glance. Why? Because the two of you are peas in a pod. As I said, he only had to say a few things to remind me of you, even though he’s Arkan. So, no chasm at all, in truth.”

I signed chalk. “In his Arkanness and my Yeoliness, we often think it’s there, but you’re right; we need only look inside ourselves and it’s gone.”

She sat thinking for a bit, caressing one of the calluses on my fingers with her thumb. “I was telling you about watching the duel, wasn’t I… sorry. So you were up again, and finding your strength, and I sent you my prayers and my blessings for all I was worth. And the Arkans were saying, ‘He couldn’t beat Kallijas with a clear head, he can hardly do it with his chimes rung. Ask your non-existent god for a miracle, kid.’ ”

“What I sent you was…” A smile grew on her face, the kind that always stirred me between the legs when we’d been together. It did now. “I spoke to you in my mind: ‘Remember all the times we made love, Chevenga, here in the Hearthstone, in the shrine among the trees, in the cedar grove? Think of that, fill your heart with that, and let love be your strength.’ ”

“Thank you, Komona. It was. I actually did think of such things, before I went into the duel. Love carried me all through.”

“Even love for the one trying to kill you… see, it’s incomprehensible. Anyway… again, I didn’t understand what happened, it was so fast, barely an exchange.”

“It had to be then. He was giving me an advantage—he didn’t go all out immediately, because he thought I wouldn’t because of my head, and again he didn’t want to seize any advantage that was unfair. A mistake—you’re fighting, you go all out, always. But I knew he’d correct it in a moment, so I had to do an all-or-nothing move right away.”

“I saw only that you stabbed him in his sword-arm… I didn’t understand why it seemed to stun him, so he didn’t, say, switch his sword to his other hand… is that possible?”

“Oh yes, and he’s good at it. But I opened the main artery in his arm. A person weakens all over the moment that happens, from the shock of it.”

“You did that… purposefully…?”

When you’ve been a warrior so long, it’s hard to remember how little people know who are not warriors . “Of course—it gave me the win.”

“But you knew where…”

“Yes… you know anatomy is part of war-training, right?”

She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. I was going to say, “Because you have to know what will happen when you stick your piece of steel where, so that you know where to stick it to make happen what you want,” but thought better.

“A wound that would defeat without killing.”

“As long as he was taken to a healer fairly fast, yes. That’s why it was so heinous for Abatzas to order Kall’s friend to quit stanching the wound, and say, ‘Let him bleed out his life’—because it would have happened. You twist the sword too, because just the stab won’t always open the artery enough to cause that shock… um, I’m sorry. I can’t go asa kraiya soon enough, can I?”





--