"That was my home," Jai said, with a shudder. "My shelter was there, directly against the wall." She pointed and Duwan felt a great wave of compassion for her, and for all the Drinkers, so ignorant of their true nature, who were herded into the crowded, filthy pens each night after a day of slave labor in the city.
Aside from the smartly uniformed guards who had paraded in the square, he saw no evidence of defensive capability, save for the stout walls. He was feeling optimistic. The well trained warriors of the valley Drinkers would each be a match for five of the enemy. All Enemy males went armed, true, but he saw evidence of neglect of weapons in the form of rusted hilts and frayed sheaths.
"I have seen enough," he said. "We will sleep, and then we will leave this place with the first light of Du."
Jai knew the city well. She guided them back toward the inn through narrow streets where there were fewer encounters, and they were almost back to the central square when a tall, well-built Devourer in the uniform of the High Master's guard seemed to fill all available space in the narrow street. Duwan's first impulse was to give way and step aside, but he had seen the sword exercises of those smartly uniformed men and he was wondering if their skill would be effective in serious fighting instead of parade ground show. Then, too, he was Drinker, and he was in the land of his ancestors, and he was young and prideful. He narrowed his orange eyes and marched directly toward the oncoming guardsman.
"Master, Master," Jai was whispering from one pace behind him, a bit of panic in her voice.
Just as it appeared that the two males could walk directly into each other, when one more pace on the part of either would have resulted in a nose to nose collision, both halted, faces inches apart, eyes locked. The guardsman had pale green eyes.
"You have the space of one breath to move aside," the guardsman said.
"Does the law of this city give the High Master's guard the right of way?" Duwan asked, his voice low and polite.
"This gives me the right of way," the guardsman said, patting the hilt of his longsword.
"Then I will be breaking no law if I contest?" Duwan asked. "I am a stranger, and I do not, of course, want to break any laws." The green eyes of the guardsman narrowed. "I see that you are armed in the ancient manner, in the manner of our ancestors. I seldom find it necessary to use two swords, one being quite adequate."
"I can understand that," Duwan said. "It is rare that one has the skill of hand to handle both long and short swords."
"Since you have stated that you are a stranger and do not want to break any of the laws of Arutan, I will explain to you that dueling in the streets, while not unlawful, is frowned upon."
"Perhaps there is an isolated place?" Duwan asked. The guardsman's eyes shifted, examined Duwan from head to foot. "Do you refuse to give way?"
"Unless I am breaking some law, yes."
Jai drew near, cringing. "Master, Master, beg forgiveness of this officer."
Duwan ignored her. The guardsman nodded.
"I will turn and make my way back to the square. We will settle this matter there, if that is your wish." the guardsman said. Duwan nodded. The uniformed enemy turned and walked away, back stiff.
"Master, don't be foolish," Jai begged. "You will have to fight him in the center of the square, and every eye in the city will be on you."
"And if I kill him?"
"The weapons will be padded," Jai said, "but whether you win or lose, Master, great attention will be focused on you. Can you risk discovery?"
"I'm curious," Duwan said. "These guardsmen seem to be the finest warriors of the enemy. I will test this one's abilities." By the time Duwan reached the square, with Jai and Tambol following behind him, a crowd was beginning to form in the center. The guardsman was there, and white-robed priests were filing down the stairs of the temple. Duwan took his place in the open area. The crowd stared and pointed and there was a great deal of wagering going on, most of the bets being placed on the guardsman with the odds against Duwan. A priest walked to stand in front of Duwan, padded sheaths for weapons in his land.
"The captain allows you to use both your weapons," the priest said.
"Will he use only the longsword?"
"Yes," the priest said.
"Then if you will hold my shortsword for me I will be grateful," Duwan said, extending his longsword for the priest to cover with the padded sheath.
The two combatants faced each other at a distance of a few paces.
"There is still time to give way, stranger," the guardsman said.
"My sword arm needs exercise," Duwan said.
The guardsman came in a rush, and the muffled thud of blade on blade came time and again. Duwan held up on offensive thrusts, wanting to determine the extent of the warrior's skill, and he was not disappointed. The guard captain seemed in a hurry to end the bout, his blade seemed to be a living thing, thrusting, slashing, hammering. So skilled were both men that gasps of admiration went up from the crowd, and Jai noted that the odds against Duwan kept going down until, as the shadows of the sun moved by inches and both combatants were drenched in sweat and no blow of either had penetrated the other's defenses, it was even money. After a lightning series of thrusts, all parried by Duwan, the captain stepped back. "You fight well, stranger."
"I have never faced a more worthy opponent," Duwan said.
"Is your sword arm as weary as mine?" the captain asked.
"I fear so," Duwan said. He tossed his sword, caught it deftly by the hilt in his left hand. "But, since I fight in the manner of the ancients, I have a spare."
The captain's face went grim and he came to the attack with a renewed fury. However, he had gauged himself to Duwan's right-handed technique and so, as he faced a left-handed attack, with Duwan unleashing all his offensive tricks, he had to give ground. Duwan was now eager to end it. He pressed his attack, going for the guardsman's head, for if there was a weakness in the captain's defense it was at head level. He saw his opportunity, sent a great smash downward, felt his padded blade thud into the enemy's skull but even as he felt the shock of impact his breath went out of him in a great huff as the captain's padded blade took him in a full slash on the stomach.
The guardsman went down, dazed, and Duwan fought to get his breath, felt a great wave of weakness as he could not breathe, fell to his knees, gasped and finally got wind into his lungs.
The officiating priest stepped forward. The crowd was screaming in delight. "You are both dead," the priest said. "Let me commend you on a display of swordsmanship seldom seen in these peaceful days."
"Stranger," the captain said, getting to his knees, "you've addled me properly."
"And you have given me a blow I will feel for days," Duwan said.
"When we meet again in the streets," the captain said, "I suggest that each of us take one half-step to the side."
"A sensible suggestion," Duwan said. He was reviewing the bout in his mind, trying to remember places where he could have applied this or that technique.
"If you seek a place in Arutan, come to the guards quarters and ask for Captain Hata. Your sword would be a valuable addition to the High Master."
For a moment Duwan considered accepting the invitation. How better to learn all of the Enemy's secrets than as one of them? But then he reconsidered. He had enough information. "I am honored," he said. "But I am a wanderer."
"So be it," Hata said, giving a polite little nod of his head. Duwan returned the nod. The crowd began to disperse, still haggling over coins. Jai came to stand behind Duwan.
"Are you hurt, Master?"
"I will ache for a while," he said. He started walking toward the inn. He was tired. When his way was blocked by an ornate portable chair carried by four gaunt pongs, he started to walk around it.
"You," said a feminine voice from behind the lacy curtains of the chair.
"Come here."
Duwan's inclination was to ignore the command, but he felt his tunic being tugged by Jai, who whispered, "Master, you must obey. The chair bears the royal crest."