Sword Maker-Sword Dancer 3 (43 page)

"Yes."

"Something very like one is trapped in Tiger's sword."

"Not a loki," I said. "Something far worse."

Adara shuddered. "Nothing could be worse."

Garrod's brows rose. "You saw what Tiger did... and what it did to Tiger."

Something began to concern me. "What did it do to Tiger?"

Garrod was very succinct. "Tried to burn you up. Except you wouldn't let it do

it... you stopped it cold--in a manner of speaking." He grinned. "The rain went

away, the mud dried up, the sun came out for good."

Lena's voice was hushed. "It was a simoom."

Simoom--or samiel.

I looked at Del. Neither of us said a word.

Lena's face was troubled. "The young man came after Alric was gone to the circles, saying he wanted the Sandtiger. When I explained you weren't here, that

you'd left for a while, he asked what sword you wore." She lifted wide shoulders. "I told him: Alric's Vashni sword. And then he went away."

"Only to come back later when Lena and the girls were gone." Alric's voice was

heavy. "Who would steal a jivatma?"

"A young, proud man trying to impress his first woman. An outcast Vashni half blood trying to buy his way into the tribe." I rubbed at my cheek, then wished I

hadn't. Del was right: I was sunburned. "He probably got word to the warriors that I had the Vashni sword, knowing it would create a diversion so he could steal the jivatma." I sighed. "I'm sorry Nabir's dead, but I can't say he wasn't

warned."

Del looked at the sword lying naked beside the bedding. "Tiger--the black is higher."

So it was: discoloration reached nearly halfway up the blade. "Less than there

was," I told her. "It almost touched the hilt." I glanced around, saw the harness, stretched out an arm to reach it. Del dragged it closer, then put it into my hand. I sheathed the discolored sword, then set it back on the ground.

"Do you think--" But whatever it was started to ask slid off my flaccid tongue.

Del's voice was startled. "Tiger--? Tiger--"

"What is it?" Adara cried.

Cramps wracked me the length of my body. Toes, calves, thighs, then through abdomen and chest, until it reached my back. Pectoral muscles knotted, stretching the flesh of my shoulders. Pain crawled up into my neck, then reached

out and snared my jaw.

Hoolies, but I hurt.

"What is it?" Adara repeated.

"Reaction," Del explained crisply. "It's because of the magic--it's happened before... it will pass, in time; Lena, have you any huva weed? If not, could you

send Alric to fetch some? I can brew a tea that will help."

"I have some," Garrod said, and took Adara and Massou with him.

I found it somewhat discomfiting to be discussed as if I were not present, but

since basically I wasn't--only my spasming body--I didn't bother to protest.

I

just lay there tied up in knots, trying to breathe in and out through the cramping of midriff and back.

Alric, catching Del's twitch of the head, herded Lena and the girls back into the other room.

"Bascha--I can't--breathe--"

Del moved the sheathed sword aside, out of the way. "I know. Try to relax.

Try

to think about something else."

"You try it."

Her tone softened. "I know," she said again.

It took effort to speak an entire sentence. "Has this--happened to you?"

Del was busy trying to knead out the worst of the amps. Trouble was, I was cramping all over, and she only had two hands. "Not like this," she answered.

"A

bit, yes, the first time I invoked my jivatma. But never again, and nothing like

this... this is the worst I've ever seen."

Trust it to happen to me. "If these swords are supposed to be so helpful--" I broke it off and ground my teeth. "Oh, hoolies... this hurts."

"I know," she said yet again. "It must be because of Chosa Dei... if it were only the jivatma, it wouldn't be so painful. I don't know what you did, but it

roused too much of the wild magic. And now you're paying the price."

"I don't know what I did, either." Oh, hoolies, it hurt. Sweat ran off my body,

stinging sunburned skin. "I just--I just tried to stop Chosa Dei from taking Nabir's body--from trying to take mine."

Del dug into my neck, trying to loosen a locking jaw. The pain was exquisite.

"You changed the weather, Tiger. You called up a storm."

She sounded so certain. "How do you know?" I demanded through locked teeth.

"You

weren't even here."

"Because with mine I call up a banshee-storm, which is known only in the North.

Your storm is a samiel... a hot desert wind blasting straight out of the Punja."

She paused. "Don't you understand? You have the strength of the South in your sword. The strength, the power, the magic... your sword is the South, just as mine is the North."

It took some thinking about. "Since when--ouch--has this been so clear to you?"

"Since you used the sword against Chosa in the mountain."

"So why wait until now--ouch!...hoolies, bascha, be gentle... you sent Garrod for huva?"

"Yes."

"Huva weed is a narcotic."

"Yes."

"It will muddle up my head."

"No more muddled up than it is when you drink too much aqivi... ah--here is Garrod now. Lena will brew some tea."

Lena brewed tea. Del kneaded. I sweated and cramped. By the time the tea was ready, I was ready for anything if it meant the pain would go.

"Here." Del held the cup. "It will be bitter because it hasn't been properly brewed or steeped as long as it should be, but drink. It will help."

It was worse than bitter. It was horrible. "How long does it take?"

"This concentrated, not long. Try to relax, Tiger."

"I think I've forgotten how."

She worked the rigidity of my shoulders. "Give it a little time."

I gave it time. I gave it a lot of time. And then when I wasn't looking, the tea

snuck up on me.

"Bascha--?"

"I'm here, Tiger."

"The room is upside down."

"I know."

"And you're floating in midair."

"I know."

"And I'm floating in midair."

"I know."

Pain diminished a step. Relief tapped at my consciousness, but I wouldn't let it

in. I was afraid to let it in. If I let it in, and it didn't stay, I'd never be

able to bear it.

Drowsily, I said: "He unmade Nabir's feet."

"And tried to unmake you."

"He wanted Nabir's body ..."

Her hands still worked sore flesh. "Do you see now, Tiger, why you must be vigilant? Why you can never set it aside, or sell it, or hide it, or give it to

anybody? Why the sword is yours to ward?"

I didn't answer.

"You are right to seek out Shaka Obre. He may be the only one who can aid you...

the only one who understands Chosa Dei well enough to defeat him."

I slurred everything together. "If things keep going the way they've been going,

Chosa may get to know me well enough... he wants my body, you said?"

"You are strong enough for Chosa Dei. You are his match, or better... he cannot

defeat you."

The words were getting harder to say. "You don't know that, bascha... he nearly

beat me today ..."

"But he didn't. You stopped him. You fought him, and you beat him. You have every time, and you will every time."

More pain flowed away. With it went much of my sense. "I have--to get rid of...

it .. ."

"Then have it discharged properly."

"Shaka Obre," I mumbled. "Maybe the jhihadi... may be the jhihadi ..."

Del smiled a little. Through the veil of my lashes, the tense Northern features

softened. "If the jhihadi has time for such."

"Hoolies... tea... strong ..."

Cramps began to untie. I let the relief wash in, denying it nothing now. It could take me, it could have me... and its gift was akin to bliss. "Oh, better... better ..." I drifted drowsily, letting the huva take me. And then words fell out of my mouth. "I asked Sula," I slurred. "I asked her about the truth."

Del's fingers slowed, then resumed their steady kneading. "What did she say?"

It was hard to stay awake. "She didn't know the truth... she said she didn't know ..."

The fingers now were gentle. "I'm sorry, Tiger."

My tongue was thick in my mouth. "And then--she died. She died."

The hands stopped altogether.

My eyes were too heavy to open. "I'm sorry--bascha ..."

"Don't be sorry for me."

"No... because--because of Jamail." The world was sliding away.

"Jamail! What about--" She broke off.

It was harder to make the effort. "I didn't--I'm sorry--I meant..." Vision was

slowly fraying.

Del said nothing.

I walked the edge of the blade. One--more--step--

"That's not--that's not how--" I licked dry lips "--I meant it to be different--"

Del sat like a rock.

One more tiny step--

I was nearly incoherent. "I'm... sorry... bascha--"

The rock moved at last. Del lay down beside me, one hip jutting toward the sky.

I felt the angle of her cheekbone against the loosening flesh of my shoulder.

So--close--now--

She rested her arm on my chest and put the flat of her hand over my heart, as if

to feel its beating.

"--Del--"

She locked her feet around mine. "I'm sorry, too," she whispered. "I'm sorry for

us both."

--over the edge--

--and off--

Nine

Del's face was white. "This is serious."

After a moment, I nodded. "That's why I brought it up."

"If the name is freely known--"

"It wasn't my fault, bascha. Nabir said the name."

"But--how did he know?" She waved the question away before she finished the intonation. "No. He knew because Chosa Dei told him. Chosa Dei was in him...

the

jivatma had no secrets."

"You're saying if my blade ever cuts into someone, he'll know all about the power?"

Del's tone went dry. "While he's dying, yes. But I don't think it will do him much good."

Alric came into the doorway. "I couldn't help overhearing... and anyway, I heard

the boy scream it out yesterday." He shrugged. "If you're worried about the blooding-blade's name being known, I don't think it's as serious as all that."

Del scowled at him. "You're Northern. You know better--"

"Because I'm Northern, yes." Alric shook his head. "Named blades aren't known down here, Del. Not by very many. And the people I saw in the crowd yesterday were Southron, most of them; the name won't mean a thing. Certainly they won't

realize that to know the name means they can freely touch Tiger's sword--and even if they did know it, I doubt they'd do anything about it." His expression

was grim. "You weren't here yesterday. You didn't see what happened."

"No, but I know the results." Del still looked concerned. "Southroners may be no

threat, but if there were Northerners present--"

"--then they know it, too." Again, Alric nodded. "But even in the North jivatmas

are mostly legend. Unless you've trained to be a sword-dancer, you don't hear so

much about blooding-blades."

"Hoolies," I said wearily, "what I'd give for a Southron sword."

Del's tone was implacable. "That, you can never have. Not while Chosa lives."

It irritated me. "What do you mean? What if I went out and bought another sword?"

"Like the one from Sarad the swordsmith?" Del's contempt was delicate. "Like the

one you borrowed from Alric?"

I didn't say anything.

She sighed. "Don't you understand? He won't let you have another. He'll break it, like the first one."

Alric nodded. "Or see that it's taken away, like the Vashni sword I loaned you."

"That was probably Nabir... I think he went to the Vashni and told them, hoping

it might buy him goodwill." I peeled dead skin off a forearm. For some odd reason the sunburn was already fading, sloughing off dead skin two days quicker

than usual. I stared at the curl of skin; at the pattern of flesh and hair.

"I

can't risk another Nabir. I can't risk another--fight."

"Another storm, you mean." Alric's mouth twisted. "I don't know, Tiger--you controlled that one well enough. And if I had the ability to call up a simoom any time I wanted--"

"I don't want," I stated clearly. "All I want is to go back to the kind of life

I had before, when I hired on with local tanzeers, or made money on circle wagers."

"You can't have it," Del said. "That is over for you."

Alric's brows rose. "Maybe not. I mentioned to the others earlier... there is wagering at the circles."

"Tanzeers are hiring, so the sword-dancers are showing off. Some of the tanzeers

are pitting their sword-dancers against one another for the hoolies of it.

Some

are settling scores. Those dances are real."

I shook my head. "I'm in no shape for dancing. Everything hurts too much."

Alric shrugged lightly. "That will pass soon enough."

"Will it?" Glumly I picked at dead skin. "I'm not as young as I once was."

"In the name of hoolies!" Del cried. "You're only thirty-six!"

Only. She said "only."

How generous of her.

Alric slouched against the doorjamb. "I'd bet money on you."

"On me, or on my sword?"

He grinned a Northern grin. "A little of both, I think."

I shook my head slowly. "I don't know, Alric... I'm not so sure anyone around here will ever risk a coin on a dance with me involved. If as many people as you

say saw what happened yesterday..." I let it trail off.

"You're sandsick," he answered pleasantly. "Do you know how many people will pay

just in case you might key that sword again?"

I twisted my mouth briefly. "Maybe. People are bloodthirsty--they might like that sort of thing. But how many sword-dancers would be willing to risk their lives against a possessed sword? I'll have no opponents."