Nature's Servant (64 page)

Taurnil sprang to his feet, letting go of Gaspi’s arm as he roared with unrestrained excitement. Gaspi leapt to his feet and joined in too, staggered by what he’d just seen. The mayor announced Jaim as the winner of the bout, and the healers crossed the sand to tend to the injured. The cheering went on for minutes, and no-one retook their seat until it finally died down.

“What a fight!” Taurnil said, and Gaspi thought his eyes actually looked moist. Taurnil almost never cried!

“I know,” he said. “Sabu is unbelievable.”

“Unbelievable,” Taurnil repeated. “I thought he was in trouble for a moment there, but then he just came alive and ripped the hell out of those people.”

Gaspi laughed. It was a fair description of what happened. Without a doubt, it was the most exciting thing they’d seen so far.

“Next time you get excited, would you mind not crushing my arm?” he said sarcastically, pulling his sleeve up to show the clear imprint of Taurnil’s hand where it had clamped onto him.

“Oh, sorry,” Taurn said, but his grin hadn’t faded.

The healers finished their work and left the arena. Delami looked shaken up and was whispering furiously at the gypsy warrior right up to the moment the mayor called them to take their places. The crowd stilled to a hush.

“BEGIN!” the mayor shouted, and they flew at each other like racing dogs released by their handlers. The gypsy warrior sprinted to intercept Sabu, but Jaim caught him in the midriff with a force strike. It flung him backwards across the sand, leaving Sabu free to attack Delami, but this time Delami was ready for him, a strike in each hand. Sabu raced for the magician, but Delami launched one of his strikes, placing it too high to be somersaulted over. Sabu fell into a roll as the strike passed over his head, but as he sprang back to his feet the second strike caught him square in the chest and threw him to the sand. Delami followed up with another strike, and then another, leaving him writhing and incapacitated on the ground. Jaim couldn’t intervene as the gypsy fighter was back on his feet and rushing straight at him. Jaim hit him with a hard, flat strike, sending the fighter to the sand again, unconscious this time. He spun round to help Sabu but Delami had the blademaster tied up in magical bonds, and with both fighters out of the battle, it was down to the magic users to decide it.

Delami launched an air strike, which Jaim parted with a carefully-shaped shield, splitting the strike in two and letting it pass harmlessly by on either side of him. He retaliated with an earth strike, doubling the confusion by ripping up a curtain of sand from the arena floor and sprinting several yards to the left while Delami was blind. He dropped the curtain of sand and launched a force strike, taking Delami by surprise. The gypsy magician spun to face his opponent, but he was too late to summon a shield, and Jaim’s strike caught him in the gut. Delami staggered backwards and fell to his backside with a thump. Jaim summoned the most powerful strike he could manage and threw it directly at the gypsy magician. Gaspi sat bolt upright on the edge of his seat. If the strike landed Jaim and Sabu would win the match! He felt Taurnil shift forwards next to him, sharing his excitement. Jaim’s strike sailed through the air, and Delami just sat there, watching it approach. Gaspi braced himself to jump to his feet, but then Delami lifted a hand and simply snatched the strike right out of the air. Gaspi had seen Voltan do that once but when he’d asked how it was done, Voltan had said it was very difficult, and they didn’t have time to learn it before the tournament.

Jaim just stood there stupidly as Delami got back to his feet, a satisfied smile stretching across his face. He said something that Gaspi couldn’t make out and flung the strike back at him. Jaim summoned a shield, which was just strong enough to defend against the strike and the two cancelled each other out. Delami summoned a force strike of his own, substantially bigger and more powerful than Jaim’s best effort, and cast it at his opponent. Jaim summoned his strongest force shield but Delami’s strike exploded through it as if it were made of wet parchment and slammed into the less powerful magician. Jaim flew backwards through the air and landed heavily, skidding through the sand. As he came to a stop, Delami pinned him to the ground with sheer magical force.

“SECOND BOUT; DELAMI!” the mayor announced to the cheering crowd, though they were less enthusiastic than they were when Sabu had single-handedly won the first bout.

It was clear to Gaspi that Jaim was outclassed. Kusar hadn’t been a strong magician either, but he made up for that with cunning strategies and by combining his magical attacks with physical ones. Jaim was a weak magician whose spells were well constructed and precise, but Gaspi couldn’t see how he could defeat Delami without pulling something new out of the bag. 

“Do you reckon you could beat that gypsy?” Gaspi asked Taurnil.

“I dunno,” Taurnil answered, scratching his head. “He gave Sabu a pretty hard time, and that’s not easy to do.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Gaspi answered. “If it comes to a fight with those two we’ll have to get creative.”

“You don’t think Jaim and Sabu will win the final bout?” Taurnil asked.

“It’s possible I suppose,” Gaspi answered. “But Jaim’s just too weak. They only won the first bout because Delami underestimated Sabu, but he won’t be doing that again.”

“Don’t rule them out just yet,” Taurnil responded.

The mayor called the teams to take their positions, and the crowd fell silent once again. Sabu had won their hearts with his extraordinary performance in the first bout, but the crowd knew that his partner was outclassed, and Gaspi could almost feel them willing him on, wanting him to do win against the odds.

“BEGIN!”

The gypsies separated, forcing the fight to split into distinct melee and magical strands. Sabu did his best to finish off the melee aspect of the fight quickly, but even with his prodigious abilities, he couldn’t beat the skilled gypsy warrior before Delami defeated Jaim, who was on the ground after a dozen exchanges, pinned in place by one of his opponent’s powerful shields. Delami wasn’t taking any chances this time. He manoeuvred his way around the combatants, waiting for an opening. Sabu did his best to keep the gypsy warrior between him and Delami, and managed to sustain that for much longer than Gaspi thought possible. His heart was in his mouth as he watched the blademaster battle fiercely against two opponents, keeping the magician at bay while he tried to overwhelm the skilled gypsy warrior.

His arms were a blur of motion, his footwork impeccable, and as the minutes went on, Gaspi started to think he might have a chance. The gypsy warrior was tiring, his defence less snappy than it had been. Sabu seemed to sense the same thing, launching an aggressive flurry of attacks. The gypsy backed up, straight towards Delami, and Sabu seized his moment, pushing his opponent backwards at the magician and launching a flying kick. But the gypsy warrior sprang back at him, planting his foot directly in Sabu’s chest and sending him reeling. For the first time, Sabu was completely exposed. Delami didn’t hesitate, casting one of those sizzling red bolts of light at the blademaster. It ripped through the air and hit him directly over his heart. He fell to the ground as if stuck by lightning, his whole body twitched violently. There was a pregnant silence, and then the crowd uniformly burst into a chorus of angry boos. Gaspi looked about him in concern as several nearby magicians stood up, calling out shocked complaints.
The healers scurried across the sand with much more urgency than usual, and Sabu’s prostrate form was levitated and hurriedly removed from the arena.

Rather than announce a winner, t
he mayor walked over to speak to a group of three colourfully robed magicians, sitting together in pride of place on the front benches. They talked animatedly for a few moments, and then the mayor walked back out across the sand. The crowd continued to boo loudly until the mayor lifted his enchanted staff:

“I HAVE CONSULTED WITH THE JUDGING PANEL, AND DELAMI HAS NOT BROKEN THE RULES OF THE MEASURE. I MUST THEREFORE ANNOUNCE HIM
AS THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH.”

The crowd booed even more loudly than before, and although Delami appeared
unperturbed, his warrior was clearly furious with him, stalking back to the benches on his own. Jaim spoke animatedly with the mayor for a moment, but the mayor just held up a hand, ignoring his protests, and Jaim also left the sand, anger showing in every step.

“What was that red spell?” Taurnil asked, his face twisted with worry.

“I don’t know, but Jaim was pretty upset about it.”

“So was the gypsy warrior. So was the whole crowd!” Taurnil growled menacingly. “Sabu had better be okay!”

“We’ll talk to Voltan about it,” Gaspi said, sharing Taurnil’s worry. He couldn’t help thinking about his friend’s earlier pronouncement - that people die in the Measure every year.

As the morning wore on more winners were declared and more losers trudged back to their seats, or were taken from the arena by the healers. No-one had been killed but several looked to be severely injured. One fighter took a sword wound in the gut during his first bout that was too severe for the healers to deal with on the spot, and the magician he was partnered with was forced to concede the match. Another took a spear thrust in the side, piercing several internal organs, and he too had to be taken away for intensive treatment. The sun stood high overhead and the spring day was as hot as it was likely to get when the mayor called a break, and the teams returned to the preparation area to eat lunch.

Gaspi and Taurnil hurried out, looking for Voltan. They found him talking intensely with Jonn by the large, food-laden trestle tables set out for the combatants. Ignoring the food, they went straight up to him.

“Is Sabu okay?” Gaspi asked.

“No, but he will be,” Voltan answered, his jaw-line tight with anger. “I’ve sent him back to Helioport for treatment.”

“What was that red bolt?” Taurnil asked fiercely.

“It was a soul strike,” Voltan answered. “
As the judging panel decided, they’re not against the rules, but it’s basic etiquette that you only use them against other magicians.”

“Why?” Gaspi asked, confused.

“Because the soul-strike is drawn from a spell-caster’s own magical essence, from the very heart of what makes them a magician. They are very powerful, as you saw, but they’re extremely draining. If a magician cast one when he didn’t have the reserves, he could die.”

“Sheesh,” Gaspi said, thinking of the green sphere of light he imagined when he meditated, where his magical power and the light of his own consciousness mingled. To use not only your power but your own essence to create a strike was unthinkable to him.

“But why should it only be used against magicians?” Taurnil asked.

“Because a magician’s own essence provides a basic defence against it,” Voltan explained. “If the strike hits another magician, the effects are devastating, but their magical core provides a barrier against permanent harm. If used against someone without that basic defence, the damage can be permanent or even lethal.”

Gaspi couldn’t believe his ears. “What?” he exclaimed, furious with Delami for risking Sabu’s life just to win a match. Taurnil was clenching his fists next to him, equally incensed by what he’d heard.

“There’s no point getting angry,” Jonn said, shooting a frustrated glance at Voltan. “The healers said that Sabu’s going to be okay in a couple of days, and if you go into your match all wound up you’ll probably lose.” He looked at them intently. “Taurn?” he appealed.

Taurnil took a deep breath and let it go. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll save it for later. But this isn’t the end of it.”

“Gasp?” Jonn asked.

“Fine,” Gaspi said, knowing he was right but not liking it one bit. “We’ll let it go…for now.”

“Good enough,” Jonn said. “The most important thing is that Voltan shows you how to defend against that kind of attack.”

“It’s a test of strength,” Voltan explained in a more controlled tone of voice. “The same shield that stops a force strike will stop a soul strike. Gaspi you shouldn’t have a problem - in terms of raw power you’re stronger than anyone here. If a magician is strong enough for their force strike to break your shield, then their soul strike will break it too. The difference is the effect they have. A force strike will knock you over; a soul strike will make mincemeat of you inside and out. If it lands, the bout is over, and maybe the match.”

Gaspi didn’t much like the sound of that, but if normal defences worked against soul strikes, then he should be able to avoid getting hit by one.

“What about the spell Brukasi cast against Stemet?” he asked. “The one that made me dizzy to look at it?”

“That was a neuromantic spell,” Voltan said. “It does exactly what you said - it makes you dizzy.”

“What shield do I use against that?” Gaspi asked.

“You don’t,” Voltan answered. “Neuromancy relies on the susceptibility of the target. The spell was just a suggestion of dizziness. If Stemet had been weak-minded he would have stumbled around or fallen over, but he shook it off easily enough.”

“Oh,” Gaspi said. “Am I weak minded?”

“Who knows?” Voltan said with a ghost of a smile. “Just do your best Gaspi. You can’t defend against every type of strike you saw out there today, or the hundreds of others you’re going to face. Just rely on your strength and remember to work closely with Taurnil, and you’ll do fine.”