He feinted then a chest cut, and at the last instant moved around the parry so that he lay the edge of his weapon high upon the other's wrist.
Leaping backward, parrying wildly and cutting at Yama's head, the man in black came into a position at the head of the log that lay above the crevice that led down to the stream.
"Your hand, too, Rild! Indeed, the goddess is lavish with her protection. Try this!"
The steel screeched as he caught it in a bind, nicking the other's bicep as he passed about the blade.
"Aha! There's a place she missed!" he cried. "Let's try for another!"
Their blades bound and disengaged, feinted, thrust, parried, riposted.
Yama met an elaborate attack with a stop-thrust, his longer blade again drawing blood from his opponent's upper arm.
The man in black stepped up upon the log, swinging a vicious head cut, which Yama beat away. Pressing the attack then even harder, Yama forced him to back out upon the log and then he kicked at its side.
The other jumped backward, landing upon the opposite bank. As soon as his feet touched ground, he, too, kicked out, causing the log to move.
It rolled, before Yama could mount it, slipping free of the banks, crashing down into the stream, bobbing about for a moment, and then following the water trail westward.
"I'd say it is only a seven- or eight-foot jump, Yama! Come on across!" cried the other.
The deathgod smiled. "Catch your breath quickly now, while you may," he stated. "Breath is the least appreciated gift of the gods. None sing hymns to it, praising the good air, breathed by king and beggar, master and dog alike. But, oh to be without it! Appreciate each breath, Rild, as though it were your last—for that one, too, is near at hand!"
"You are said to be wise in these matters, Yama," said the one who had been called Rild and Sugata. "You are said to be a god, whose kingdom is death and whose knowledge extends beyond the ken of mortals. I would question you, therefore, while we are standing idle."
Yama did not smile his mocking smile, as he had to all his opponent's previous statements. This one had a touch of ritual about it.
"What is it that you wish to know? I grant you the death-boon of a question."
Then, in the ancient words of the Katha Upanishad, the one who had been called Rild and Sugata chanted:
"'There is doubt concerning a man when he is dead. Some say he still exists. Others say he does not. This thing I should like to know, taught by you.' "
Yama replied with the ancient words, "'On this subject even the gods have their doubts. It is not easy to understand, for the nature of the atman is a subtle thing. Ask me another question. Release me from this boon!'"
"'Forgive me if it is foremost in my mind, oh Death, but another teacher such as yourself cannot be found, and surely there is no other boon which I crave more at this moment.'"
"'Keep your life and go your way,'" said Yama, plunging his blade again into his sash. "'I release you from your doom. Choose sons and grandsons; choose elephants, horses, herds of cattle and gold. Choose any other boon—fair maidens, chariots, musical instruments. I shall give them unto you and they shall wait upon you. But ask me not of death.'"
"'Oh Death,' " sang the other, "'these endure only till tomorrow. Keep your maidens, horses, dances and songs for yourself. No boon will I accept but the one which I have asked—tell me, oh Death, of that which lies beyond life, of which men and the gods have their doubts.'"
Yama stood very still and he did not continue the poem. "Very well, Rild," he said, his eyes locking with the other's, "but it is not a kingdom subject to words. I must show you."
They stood, so, for a moment; and then the man in black swayed. He threw his arm across his face, covering his eyes, and a single sob escaped his throat.
When this occurred, Yama drew his cloak from his shoulders and cast it like a net across the stream.
Weighted at the hems for such a maneuver, it fell, netlike, upon his opponent.
As he struggled to free himself, the man in black heard rapid footfalls and then a crash, as Yama's blood-red boots struck upon his side of the stream. Casting aside the cloak and raising his guard, he parried Yama's new attack. The ground behind him sloped upward, and he backed farther and farther, to where it steepened, so that Yama's head was no higher than his belt. He then struck down at his opponent. Yama slowly fought his way uphill.
"Deathgod, deathgod," he chanted, "forgive my presumptuous question, and tell me you did not lie."
"Soon you shall know," said Yama, cutting at his legs.
Yama struck a blow that would have run another man through, cleaving his heart. But it glanced off his opponent's breast.
When he came to a place where the ground was broken, the small man kicked, again and again, sending showers of dirt and gravel down upon his opponent. Yama shielded his eyes with his left hand, but then larger pieces of stone began to rain down upon him. These rolled on the ground, and, as several came beneath his boots, he lost his footing and fell, slipping backward down the slope. The other kicked at heavy rocks then, even dislodging a boulder and following it downhill, his blade held high.
Unable to gain his footing in time to meet the attack, Yama rolled and slid back toward the stream. He managed to brake himself at the edge of the crevice, but he saw the boulder coming and tried to draw back out of its way. As he pushed at the ground with both hands, his blade fell into the waters below.
With his dagger, which he drew as he sprang into a stumbling crouch, he managed to parry the high cut of the other's blade. The boulder splashed into the stream.
Then his left hand shot forward, seizing the wrist that had guided the blade. He slashed upward with the dagger and felt his own wrist taken.
They stood then, locking their strength, until Yama sat down and rolled to his side, thrusting the other from him.
Still, both locks held, and they continued to roll from the force of that thrust. Then the edge of the crevice was beside them, beneath them, above them. He felt the blade go out of his hand as it struck the stream bed.
When they came again above the surface of the water, gasping for breath, each held only water in his hands.
"Time for the final baptism," said Yama, and he lashed out with his left hand.
The other blocked the punch, throwing one of his own.
They moved to the left with the waters, until their feet struck upon rock and they fought, wading, along the length of the stream.
It widened and grew more shallow as they moved, until the waters swirled about their waists. In places, the banks began to fall nearer the surface of the water.
Yama landed blow after blow, both with his fists and the edges of his hands; but it was as if he assailed a statue, for the one who had been Kali's holy executioner took each blow without changing his expression, and he returned them with twisting punches of bone-breaking force. Most of these blows were slowed by the water or blocked by Yama's guard, but one landed between his rib cage and hipbone and another glanced on his left shoulder and rebounded from his cheek.
Yama cast himself into a backstroke and made for shallower water.
The other followed and sprang upon him, to be caught in his impervious midsection by a red boot, as the front of his garment was jerked forward and down. He continued on, passing over Yama's head, to land upon his back on a section of shale.
Yama rose to his knees and turned, as the other found his footing and drew a dagger from his belt. His face was still impassive as he dropped into a crouch.
For a moment their eyes met, but the other did not waver this time.
"Now can I meet your death-gaze, Yama," he stated, "and not be stopped by it. You have taught me too well!"
And as he lunged, Yama's hands came away from his waist, snapping his wet sash like a whip about the other's thighs.
He caught him and locked him to him as he fell forward, dropping the blade; and with a kick he bore them both back into deeper water.