But if the pain was shattering, the clubbed tail actually shattered; huge chunks of bone or chitin or whatever flew in every direction. Kuragin overbalanced, staggered in alarm, then turned away reflexively so that Scorio’s follow-up attack scored deep, smoking cuts down the length of his heavy carapace.
But now, Kuragin was on the back foot. Scorio cradled his numb arm to his chest and came after him, his left tearing chunks from the monster’s carapace, shredding the huge shell, driving him back as he flailed his tail about uselessly and kept his claws raised before his face.
Again and again, Kuragin sought to regain the initiative, but Scorio was upon him like a vengeful storm. Again and again, he slashed and raked his burning claws across the other student, forcing him to keep his guard up and retreat blindly—right up to when he tripped and fell off the edge of the ring to crash the ground below.
“Victory to Scorio,” said Leonis, voice blank with awe. “By the ten hells, he did it.”
Chapter 69
“He cheated!” roared Kuragin as he sat up, hand pressed to his wounded gut. “Let’s have a rematch, wounded as I am—I’ll tear him to ribbons!”
Scorio dropped into a crouch at the sparring circle’s edge as his Heart guttered out. He didn’t want to look at his wounded arm; it still felt numb, though a creeping, smoldering ache was starting to build up deep within his wrist. “One fight, Kuragin. We made a deal. Uphold your end of the bargain.”
Kuragin was still in his monstrous form, but his carapace made sitting awkward; he could barely prop himself up. With a snarl, he released the form and reverted to his human shape, though the deep lacerations in his stomach remained.
“They’re right,” said Famissa, tone somewhere between reluctant and stunned. She was staring at Scorio, eyes wide. “When did you make Emberling?”
He raked his hair out of his eyes and managed a weak grin. “Oh, not too long ago. Just in time for this fight, actually. So, Kuragin. You going to honor your end of the deal?”
The large man studied his gut, hissed in anger or perhaps pain, and chose to remain seated. “Fine. Underhand as it was. Shouldn’t have expected any better from a Red Lister.”
Scorio let the insult roll off him. “Very generous of you. Now, tell me about your Trial. Everything that pertained to me and mine.”
At which point Kuragin sneered. “Oh, that’ll be my pleasure. Seeing as it was you that betrayed your brother and caused him to be executed.”
Scorio raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I saved him from that execution. If you’re trying to hurt my feelings with this revelation, you’re going to have to do better.”
Kuragin blinked. “You saved him? No. You’re the one who betrayed him so that my forces could capture him.”
“What? No. He was arrested for trying to pass radical laws in our province and apprehended for defying the king. What are you talking about?”
“Oh,” said Kuragin, understanding spreading across his features. “Oh, that’s rich. So you don’t know, after all.”
“You’re trying my patience,” said Scorio. “Hurry up and explain yourself.”
“Sure, you rescued your brother from that provincial execution. But that was old history when my trial took place. There I was, in the king’s castle, your brother on a leash. And with the knowledge that it was you who had betrayed him, allowed us to ambush him and bring him in for justice.”
Scorio stared at him in bafflement, then shook his head. “No. That doesn’t make sense. I’d not have betrayed my brother.”
“But you did. He no longer served your purpose, apparently, so you discarded him out of hand. Had him neatly removed. I remember feeling grudging respect for your cold-blooded efficiency. But I didn’t mind being used in your stratagem, not if it netted us the leader of the rebellion.”
Scorio frowned down at the large man. He couldn’t square what Kuragin was saying with his own memories. The fierce loyalty and admiration he’d felt for his brother. His willingness to risk death, risk even the rebellion, to save him. Why would he have betrayed Eberro? It made no sense.
Kuragin was drinking up his confusion and discomfort. “Oh yes. How easily you discarded him out of hand. This I know, this was branded in my mind as the truth of my situation. I swear it on my soul and hope of rebirth that I tell no lies.”
“There had to be more to it,” protested Scorio. “That makes… I mean…”
“And Eberro. I had him on a leash. He was a broken man. What you’d done had broken him, sure enough as if you’d strapped him to the wheel yourself. But there was within him a spark of anger, of outrage, that I still could use to my own ends…” And there Kuragin suddenly cut himself off.
“Explain,” said Scorio coldly.
“That’s my trial and pertains to you not at all.”
“Was my brother part of it? Yes? Then tell me what you did, or I’ll finish what I started in the circle.”
Kuragin bared his teeth. “Come on down here, pretty boy, and I’ll choke you with your own guts.”
“You’ll have to dig out my guts in the process,” said Leonis, and Nezzar appeared in his hand. He propped it nonchalantly on his shoulder and then raised an eyebrow.
“And mine, awful as this expression is,” said Lianshi, moving to stand beside Leonis.
Kuragin scowled. “Fam?”
“You swore to tell the whole truth as it pertained to Scorio and his brother,” she replied. “Sorry, Kuragin.”
He scowled and spat bloody phlegm. “Fine. Though this isn’t over, Scorio. You’ll pay for this. I no longer agreed with the king. Your brother was a means to end his rule. I was to present Eberro to him in court. If I weakened his bonds and secreted a knife upon his person, I knew your brother would take care of the king when given the chance. But it would mean the end of my own reputation, the collapse of my standing in the kingdom. Or I could have executed your brother as expected, further proving my efficacy, then waited for a future opportunity when my loyalty would allow for a cleaner kill.”
“Given your brutish power,” said Scorio, “I can guess what you chose.”
Kuragin sneered. “Don’t be so sanctimonious, fool. Better a king killer than a fratricide.”
The words hit Scorio like a blow to the chin. He jerked his head back and narrowed his eyes. “I’m no fratricide.”
“You betrayed your brother. That’s incontrovertible.”
“If I did, I…” But Scorio couldn’t finish the sentence. It made no sense to him. To betray his own brother?
“He wasn’t radical enough for you,” sneered Kuragin. “He wasn’t willing to commit the same atrocities. He was splitting your forces, weakening you in the field. Trying to make allies with the wrong people and wasting time. So you had him removed from the board.” Kuragin gave him a mock complimentary nod. “Most impressive for rabble-rousing scum.”
“That’s quite enough,” said Leonis, drawing himself up. “You have anything else you need to reveal to Scorio? On your honor, speak truthfully or be condemned by your own cowardice.”
And there was something to Leonis’s tone, to his bearing, to the full reverberation of his voice so that for the briefest moment Scorio caught a glimpse of the king he must once have been. But then Kuragin spat again and slowly climbed to his feet.
“That’s the full tale, and watch your tongue, Leonis. Insult my honor again and I’ll tear it out by the roots.”
“Good. Scorio? Let’s go.” And with that Leonis turned to leave the training chamber.
Scorio wanted to remain perched on the training circle’s edge for eternity, trapped like a fly in amber, a prisoner to his own uncertainty and doubts. Instead, he hopped down, nodded absently to Famissa who looked like she wished she could say more, and followed his friends out of the room and down the hall. They made their way silently back to their chambers, and only when Lianshi pressed the door firmly closed did he blink and come back to himself.