Chapter 10
Zafiyah’s servants led Kathryn and her friends to two adjoining rooms and explained that Ren and Chance were expected to share quarters. Brenin could have his own room, but he declined, opting instead to sleep with the servants. The servants didn’t seem particularly happy about their guests, but they were polite enough. They offered water for baths, and they supplied new clothing and food. Soon, Ren and Chance were snoring away in their room, and Kathryn was enjoying the sensation of washing properly for the first time in a while.
As she glanced down at her calloused hands and noticed her tan, she muttered to herself, “Pretty soon, I’ll look like a field worker.” She didn’t particularly like that thought.
After her bath, she lay down on the soft bed and looked up at the ceiling. It seemed strange to go to bed in the middle of the day, but she knew that the people of Tephraya typically napped at that time anyway. Except for the slaves of course, she thought bitterly.
She closed her eyes to block out the unwanted images her memory forced on her of the people she had seen in the streets that day. “We’ll have to do something about that,” she murmured sleepily. “Illian was right about one thing. This…this will have to stop.” And she’d need power and influence to stop it. Which meant Ren had to win his upcoming bout in order to gain Zafiyah’s sponsorship.
That wouldn’t be a problem, however.
Early the next morning, Kathryn met with Ren and Chance in the hall. They could hardly believe they’d slept through half a day as well as the night. Ren remarked, “I forgot what it’s like to sleep in a place like this, you know. Cal’s place was nice, but so tiny!”
Chance laughed. “Tiny for a big oaf like you, you mean. It was plenty comfortable for me. Well, Miss Kathryn, how do you feel this morning?”
“Sore,” she said wryly. “I’m sure that will last a few days. You look much better, though.”
All signs of Chance’s weariness from the journey had disappeared, and he seemed quite energetic again. Maybe too much, she thought as he began to tease Ren, “You know, that lady Zafiyah clearly has an eye for you. Would you like me to give you some tips on how to win her over? It can’t hurt to have a beautiful woman on your side.”
“No tips from you,” Ren retorted, smacking him in the back of the head.
“Hey! What was that for? I’m only trying to help,” Chance protested.
“Just for being you.” Ren glanced at Kathryn. “Is there something you want to say, Kat? You look worried.”
Kathryn smiled at him. “Right as always. I’m not exactly worried, but I did have a thought. I’d like to try out the strategy we’ve worked out for General Xian against someone else first. And Zafiyah’s proposal might make an excellent opportunity to do that.”
“You keep talking about a strategy against Xian, but how could you possibly make a strategy when you’ve barely seen him fight?” Chance challenged her.
Ren explained, “She doesn’t have to see him fight. I’ve told her about the fights. And she knows his reputation and stuff. Tell him, Kat. I’m no good at explaining it.”
Kathryn sighed as if she was being asked to do a great chore. “It’s not as though you need to know, but since you’re nosy…basically, I create a strategy based on Xian’s character. So for example, he believes in honor over everything. He gets irritated when fights get interrupted, and he takes himself very seriously.”
“So what?” Chance asked, frowning.
“So that is an easy way to anger him. Ren will simply fail to give him the respect he thinks he deserves. When people are angry, they tend to repeat familiar moves,” Kathryn explained. “And Ren has fought him before, so he’ll know what to expect.”
“Isn’t that kind of risky, though? Some people also get stronger and more fierce when they’re mad,” Chance pointed out.
Kathryn shrugged. “Ren has no difficulty with stamina or speed. His main problem is Xian’s unpredictability. So we need to reduce that factor. There is more to it than that, but you’ll see when Ren fights against Zafiyah’s champion. Ren, instead of ending the fight right away, I want you to keep it going for a bit; don’t show your whole strength. And just like for Xian, you’ll use a staff instead of a sword.”
“Are you crazy?” Chance demanded. “Why would he use a staff? Isn’t the whole idea to keep Xian from pursuing you forever? So wouldn’t a bladed weapon make more sense if you’re trying to kill him?”
“Watch and learn,” Ren told him loftily.
Just then, a servant arrived and said, “Lady Zafiyah requests that you join her for the morning meal.”
Kathryn smiled at Ren. “Can you put up with her for a bit longer?” she asked.
He shrugged. “As long as I don’t have to flirt with her or act like I like her, sure.”
“Why is it that the warm-hearted always fall for the cold-hearted?” Chance complained cryptically.
Kathryn wondered if it would be too unladylike to smack him.
When asked to join them, Brenin only said, “I’ve got other business,” and left for town without any further explanation.
In the breakfast room, Zafiyah ignored Kathryn and Chance and zeroed in on Ren as he was devouring his breakfast. “General Ren, I have picked an opponent for you to fight, but I wish to wait for you to recover entirely,” she told him. “I am very excited to watch an Iridalys native fight!”
“Eh. You won’t learn much about Iridalys fighting styles from me,” Ren said briefly. “I’m one-of-a-kind.”
Zafiyah smirked, and Kathryn felt uneasy as she continued, “I’m sure that’s true. Anyway, my man also planned to fight in the Contest of Champions. But he has agreed to forfeit and allow you to fight in his place if you can defeat him.”
“If he’s planning to fight in the contest, he must be pretty good,” Kathryn observed. There was a hint of doubt in her voice, and Ren understood why.
He pushed away his plate, saying coolly, “Give me an hour for the food to settle and I’ll show your friend a thing or two about fighting.”
The young woman cocked her head and smiled quizzically. “I suggest you wait a little longer than that,” she said. “You’ve just had a rough journey, after all.”
“An hour,” Ren repeated.
Zafiyah shrugged. “If that’s what you want, then so be it. I’ll have him ready. This should be very exciting!”
Kathryn felt it was rather strange that Zafiyah’s house had a massive training ground in the back, but she didn’t comment on it. Nor did she comment on the numerous stone statues that lined the walls like scarecrows, raising weapons to the sky. But when she saw Ren’s opponent, she felt a bit uneasy.
He was in his mid-twenties, but he was well-muscled. And she could tell by the way he moved that he was an experienced fighter. His eyes had a peculiar quality to them as well. They were bright blue and clashed with his dark skin, but most of all, they were perfectly steady, fixed on Ren’s face as though he felt no need to properly survey his opponent. That could mean either arrogance or full confidence in his own abilities.
Chance saw her face and remarked, “Must be hard, sending your boyfriend off to fight for you all the time. Why don’t you learn to wield the sword? People would pay good money to watch you face off against a guy like that.”
Kathryn rolled her eyes and didn’t reply.
The young warrior told Ren, “You have the choice of weapons, General.”
“Sure, thanks. But I’m not a general,” Ren told him easily. “You can call me Ren.” He picked up a staff and tossed one to his opponent with a careless gesture. “What’s your name, anyway? I like to know who I’m about to beat up.” His tone was deliberately provocative.
The man’s face reddened with anger as he replied, “I am called Swift Desert Blade. My name is Haron. I belong to Lady Zafiyah.”
“A slave, huh?” Ren looked troubled for a moment. “Are you sure you want to fight me? ‘Cause if you’re being forced, then I’m not going to fight. I’ve got no interest in fighting anyone who doesn’t have it in for me.”
Haron looked irritated. “Yes, I wish to fight you,” he said coldly.
Ren smirked. “That’s alright with me! So, how do you start your fights here? Does someone call it, or do we just start hitting each other?”
On the sidelines, Zafiyah smiled and held up a handkerchief. “When I drop this, you begin,” she said simply.
Ren stood in a relaxed pose, leaning on his staff. Haron stood at the ready with the staff held at an angle to ward off blows from any direction. “You should have taken this seriously, foreigner,” he said bitterly.
“And why’s that?” Ren questioned.
“Because you are about to lose your head.”
Zafiyah dropped the handkerchief.
Haron lunged, raising the staff high over his head to bring it down full force on the arrogant foreigner’s face.
Only to find it batted lightly aside by the tip of Ren’s staff as the young bodyguard instantly brought it up to defend himself. “Not bad,” Ren said with a smirk. “Got anything better?”
Haron held the staff towards the middle and lashed out, hooking left and right with the ends.
Ren easily deflected each one, and then after a sudden, sharp strike that tossed aside Haron’s staff, Ren stepped close and rammed his shoulder into his opponent.
Haron staggered backward, and he could barely block Ren’s staff as it flashed towards his head.
But blocking it was a mistake, he realized. He had never felt such power. It drove him to his knees and nearly smashed the weapon out of his hands. He barely retained his grip, and already the foreigner was twisting his staff to hit him in his right side. As Haron moved to block again, he suddenly realized he would lose his staff if he tried and attempted to deflect the blow instead.
Ren allowed him to deflect it, but then he twisted sideways and slammed the point of the staff into the arch of Haron’s foot.
Haron yowled in pain, even as he registered that Ren hadn’t used his full strength for the blow. The agony nearly paralyzed him, but he tried to strike back with his staff. Ren caught the staff and held, saying calmly, “I think you’d better give up. Half of managing a staff is footwork, and yours is finished for the day.”
Haron glared up at him and struggled to pull the staff away, but the foreigner’s grip was incredibly strong. “How dare you,” Haron seethed. “A disrespectful whelp like you cannot represent lady Zafiyah!”
“Oh yeah, about that.” Ren smiled sheepishly. “I actually really apologize, Haron. I can tell you’re a good fighter, and I shouldn’t have disrespected you. It’s sort of part of my training.” He held out his hand. “If you can forgive me, we’ll call it a truce? And I’ll show you a few tips on fighting with a staff any time you want.”
Haron’s jaw dropped. He was utterly bewildered. First, he was offended because he was being used as a training dummy. Then he felt shame as he realized he was not fit to be anything else to a warrior of Ren’s caliber. Then he felt confused as he realized that incredible warrior had just apologized to him and offered to train him.
He glanced at Zafiyah, who nodded slightly. Then he took Ren’s hand and allowed him to help him up. As he limped to the sidelines, he said begrudgingly, “You are a fine warrior, Ren Patrick.”
“Thanks. I hope we’ll get along,” Ren said pleasantly. “I’m planning on staying a while. Well, lady Zafiyah? What do you think? Are you willing to sponsor me?”
Zafiyah smiled widely and inclined her head in agreement. “I would be a fool not to, Ren Patrick. You are truly a marvel that comes once in a generation.”
“Three times,” Ren corrected her. “Three times in a generation, I mean.”
Zafiyah raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then you mean to say there are two other men like you in the world?” she asked.
“Well, in the world I know of, there are two. One you’ll probably see at the Contest of Champions. And the other…” Ren paused, and a grim look crossed his face. “As for the other, I hope I’ll never have to fight him.”
“I see. At any rate, we should go sign you up for the Contest. I’ll show you how the process works,” Zafiyah began.
As she chattered on, Chance nudged Kathryn. “So, the other guy Ren was talking about was Xian, but who’s the third guy?” he whispered curiously.
Kathryn was silent for a moment, and her face was unreadable. At last she said, “The third man would be…Illian.”
Later that day, Zafiyah offered to show them around town. She seemed concerned that Ren would need his rest, but he easily recovered from the brief fight and was excited to see more of the city. However, he paid little attention to his guide during the trip and instead asked Kathryn questions, since she’d traveled there before and seemed to know quite a bit about the place.
As Ren and Kathryn chatted, Chance turned to Zafiyah. “Are you enjoying yourself as much as he seems to be?” he asked, gesturing towards Ren.
Zafiyah laughed. “I cannot come close. He is fascinated by all things. Perhaps that is why I find him so interesting.”
“He’s taken, you know,” Chance reminded her.
She shrugged. “Is he? It is difficult to tell when the girl does not return his words of affection. It seems to me he adores her and she tolerates him.”
“I’m pretty sure she likes him. She just stinks at expressing herself.” Chance smiled a little. “You express yourself just fine, though. You’re very good at showing just what you think about people and who you are interested in. One person you like, while the other is a bug under your feet and a bit of an inconvenience.”
Zafiyah raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” She leaned closer to him, which had the effect of entirely making him forget the next smart thing he was going to say. “You have piqued my interest.”
“Have I?” He wasn’t too sure what else to say.
“Mm-hmm. General Ren informed me that you once saved his life. From what I saw today, very few people are capable of doing that.”
Chance didn’t particularly like feeling tongue-tied. He broke his gaze away from hers and said, “Well, it was only luck, really.”
“Do you know why I have shown you little interest?” Zafiyah asked, putting a hand on his arm. “It’s because I can see that you like me. I have far too many people who like me. It is boring.”
Chance smirked. “You’re making me like you less and less by the moment. Is that less boring?” he asked, shaking her off.
“Yes. It is fascinating. Why do you like me less?” She put her hands on her hips expectantly, waiting for her answer.
“Because you are perfectly comfortable as you are.” Chance glanced at her handmaid, Patrila, as he spoke. “For someone as insecure as I am, that’s quite annoying. You should at least feel a little twinge of guilt or dissatisfaction with your life.”
“You Iridalys people are all the same.” Zafiyah backed away with an expression of disdain. “You don’t know anything about me. You’re assuming that I am perfectly happy with my life. And I know you are speaking about slavery, but if you knew anything, you’d understand that my position is one that does not allow me to choose. Chance Frey. ” Zafiyah touched his hand. “I know I must appear shallow. I am very charming and witty, after all.” It seemed she had no difficulty singing her own praises, Chance thought ironically. But she continued, “And I like Ren simply because he is handsome and very strong.”
Chance rolled his eyes, and Zafiyah laughed a little before continuing, “but I will not be able to marry Ren. Or you. Or anyone else I might be interested in. So what is the point of trying to live a life in which I battle for the freedom of others if I am incapable of finding it for myself?”
Chance didn’t reply. Soon after, Zafiyah returned her efforts to gaining Ren’s attention and studiously ignored Chance, which was fine by him. He found the strange feelings stirring within him to be highly inconvenient, after all.
The young people began to find a routine before they knew it. During the day, Ren trained with Brenin and sparred Zafiyah’s men. At night, he went to bed early, exhausted. He used a staff, and his strokes became even stronger, faster, and more deliberate than ever before.
Brenin spent a lot of time in town. When asked why, he simply said that he was “studying up” ahead of the coming contest. He trained Ren on how to counter various tactics and weapons he might have to fight against during the battles.
To Chance’s surprise, Kathryn also trained. She could often be found attacking training dummies with her dagger, moving like a swift bird, striking, retreating, sidestepping imaginary blows.
In the meantime, Chance and Zafiyah either watched Ren train, which Chance found to be an annoying pastime, or they talked. They never talked about anything important. Chance told her stories instead; stories that were marvelous and strange to her ears, about countries over the sea, about dragons, and mountains that spewed fire.
Ren watched them with amusement. He’d never considered liking Zafiyah, after all. And her attention made him uncomfortable, so he was glad to see it increasingly turning towards Chance. But one thing bothered him greatly, which was the whole matter of slavery.
The more they found out about the Contest of Champions, the more he wondered if he should be involved. The King’s goal was evidently not to just find the best fighters. He wanted to find the best fighters and encourage them to settle in his country specifically to battle against the slave rebellion.
Ren told Kathryn in a troubled tone when he heard that, “I can’t fight for something like that, Kat.”
He was a little worried she would be upset with him. But instead she smiled up at him and said, “Of course not. And I promise you, you will never have to. It’s not a condition of gaining noble status; it’s just something that the king would like. But we’re going to do quite the opposite. We’re going to turn the whole country upside down.”
Ren was a little surprised and confused. But he didn’t ask any further questions. He trusted her to figure things out, as he always had.
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