Chapter 18
Five days prior...
“Get
men back on that ridge!” Sefak shouted over the din
of the raging battle. “There! I need reinforcements there!” The Holder of Tuldu’un
reined his hox around and directed the
bulk of his warriors to take up a position where D’Khali
warriors were beginning to breach the fortifications that blocked the mountain
pass opening the way into Tuldu’un and the regions to
the south. It was a holding action, he
knew, and one that they couldn’t maintain indefinitely.
“Ansaric! Ansaric! To me!” The young man
thundered up on his bay hox and sat awaiting
his Lord Holder’s orders. Hastily, Sefak scribbled a note on a scrap of parchment, using his
thigh as a writing table, then rolled it and handed it over to the
courier. “Ride for Seleya
as hard as you can! Tell Anskar he must come now! We will hold them here as long as we can but
it won’t be more than two or three days before they’ll break through. Then they’ll be pouring through the pass in
full force.”
“I can
make it to Seleya in about four days, lord, but it
will be four or five more at the very earliest before Anskar
can be here,” Ansaric answered.
Sefak looked
wearily back at the fighting. “I
know. We’ll retreat once they break
through. We’ll be massacred if we stay here and fight them against these
cliffs. We’ve got to move before they
come through.”
“You
mean desert Tuldu’un?” Ansaric
asked incredulously.
“No,
not desert,” Sefak answered. “We’ve got to get out in the open where we
can maneuver. Retreat and lead these animals
away from the city. If they’re following
us, they won’t be sacking the city.” The
courier nodded in understanding. “Plus, Anskar may already be on his way. Now, ride, Ansaric. Heya speed you!”
Ansaric nodded a
bow and yanked his hox around to the south,
urging the animal forward with a shout of urgency. They were gone within a minute, leaving Sefak and one of his captains watching the fast moving
cloud of red dust that marked their path.
“Do you
think your courier will get through?” questioned the warrior of his commander.
“Goddess willing. Say a prayer up to her, Stehk,
that he does and Anskar arrives in time. But if we have to wage a running fight all
the way to Seleya, so be it.” Sefak looked
grim. “Captain, prepare your men. The enemy will overrun that ridge in
moments. As soon as they do, I want all
of our troops into that breach before they can launch their assault there. They won’t be expecting us to attack them
through their own breach. It’s our only
hope. Good luck!”
“Heya be with us all,” Stehk
responded and the two men melted back into the running, shouting chaos around
them.
* * *
Stahl
was in an unusually boisterous mood at first meal, sitting with his arm
pointedly around a very pale, withdrawn T’Preve. The warrior laughed and talked with his
cohorts in the crowded main hall, alternately drinking from a tankard of tikh-beer and tearing at a joint of paran lying on the platter before him. T’Preve hadn’t
touched the bowl of boiled grain before her.
She had searched for Spock at the morning meal but had not found
him. She was consumed with a feeling of
dread. Not that she feared him slain,
because she could feel through their bondlink that he
was very much alive. But, although he
had shielded his mind from her, she could feel the heat of his anger and hatred
breaking around the edges of that shield like flames licking around a forge
stone. She was terrified of what would
happen when those flames burst free.
As if
her thoughts had summoned forth the very demon she feared, the heavy carved
doors from the outer courtyard slammed open and Spock strode into the hall,
dressed in the formal attire of a warrior.
The crimson tabard of the House overlay a coat of mail and he was fully
armed with sword and dagger. His
midnight blue cloak sweeping the floor, he advanced purposefully across the
hall, his face like granite, his destination dreadfully evident.
The
noise in the hall shut off as if a switch had been thrown and at the head table
Anskar rose apprehensively to his feet.
Spock
halted in front of the table where Stahl sat with T’Preve,
and his hard, obsidian-dark eyes flicked her way for a brief instant. In that instant he noted her wan, frightened
expression, the desperate light in her eyes, the shock with which she beheld
the ghastly evidence of Stahl’s handiwork on his face.
Turning
his furious, unyielding gaze back on the man before him, Spock drew his dagger
and slammed the point into the wooden surface before Stahl, leaving it upright
and quivering, then declared in a loud, angry voice that filled the hall:
“Stahl cha’S’Khil hei-Kh’d’Elakil,
captain of war to Anskar, Holder of this House — I challenge you for possession of the woman T’Preve t’cha’V’Rulk hei-Kh’da’Ni’ikhirch!”
His
breath hissing out through clenched teeth, Stahl rose with terrible
deliberation to his feet and drew his own dagger, forcefully driving it into
the table so that it trembled next to the other.
“Spock cha’Sarek hei-Kh’da’Ni’ikhirch,
Sword Bearer of Heya and warrior of the House of Anskar, I accept your challenge! Name your time and place!”
“The Ring Stones of Heya! And
right now, Stahl! Right
now!”
* * *
The man
who had stepped into the Ring a little under two months before to face a barely
grown boy had been uncertain of his position, a bit bewildered at the sudden
turn of his fate, and still attempting to orient himself in a strange
world. Moreover, he had been a highly
civilized, sophisticated and logical scientist, raised to control his emotions
and to think in a calm rational manner. The man who now took his place in the
circle bore scant
resemblance to that former persona. The last vestiges of
Starfleet Commander Spock, executive officer of the Federation starship U.S.S. Enterprise,
had died with the first bite of Stahl’s knife across his cheek.
The man
who now prepared himself for personal combat was a fully realized Vulcan
warrior, seething with barely controlled rage, out for vengeance against an
opponent whom he hated with all the savage passions his ancestors had
possessed. The fire he felt in his blood
threatened to ignite into the inferno of plak
tow and he knew now where the madness of pon farr had
originated. He fought to vanquish a
detested rival and to win the mate he had chosen and taken to his heart and his
bed. This fight would not end with the
simple expedient of a nerve pinch. This
would end with one of them lying dead on the sand.
It
seemed that the entire population of Shar’ram had
turned out to watch the contest and much speculation and gambling was going on
in the ranks of soldiers and civilians.
The object of the combat, T’Preve, had taken
her place on the judgment dais with Anskar and she
had to clutch the back of his chair to stay on her feet, so fearfully did her
knees shake. Indeed, she felt that she
would faint before the combat had reached its inevitable conclusion. Anskar noticed and
ordered her to sit beside him, which she gladly did.
The
first time Spock had come into the Ring Stones, he had been alone and it was
only Suvakh’s charity that had provided him with a
second. This time, he had the backing of
a large group of supporters, men who had grown to know and respect him over the
past weeks. Suvakh
was there as well and many other family members of the House who accepted and
stood by him as a kinsman.
But
Stahl had the backing of a great number of warriors, loyal to their
captain. Anskar
eyed this contingent with a bit of concern, for of such loyalty was
insurrection born. Many of his better
warriors stood among this group and he wondered where their dedication lay — to
Stahl or the House of Ni’ikhirch.
Temek, Stahl’s
chief lieutenant, had fetched his captain’s armor and sword as soon as the
challenge had been issued and accepted.
Now Stahl stood to one side donning his mail and preparing himself for the combat.
As they waited for Stahl to ready himself, Spock turned his gaze on T’Preve, sitting beside Anskar,
and saw that she was watching him with a stricken expression, fear written
plainly on her face. He closed his eyes
for a moment and reached out to her with his mind, sending comfort and
assurance, and felt her answering surge of heartache and hope wash over him in
return. Then he broke the mind-touch and
straightened, taking a deep breath and focusing on his opponent.
He was
surprised to see a figure push through the crowd and make his way hurriedly
toward Anskar.
It was Ansaric, the young man again dressed in
riding clothes, dirty and tired and obviously just arrived. He halted before the Holder and dropped down
in a bow, then rose and presented the older man with a scroll. Anskar opened it
and read it, then nodded and spoke gravely to Ansaric. The courier bowed to him once more and went
to stand tensely at his side, staring with ill-concealed apprehension in
Spock’s direction.
Stahl
was now outfitted and armed. Slipping on
his war helm and taking up his shield from Temek, he
turned to face his challenger. Spock,
similarly attired and armed, did likewise, then the
two men moved to drop to one knee before Anskar in
tribute. In unison, both rose to their
feet and drew their swords and saluted the Holder. There was a gasp and murmur all around the
Ring as the Sword of Kh’Liorah shown forth in Spock’s
hand, but to the two principals, there was no acknowledgment made of the
fact.
Anskar likewise
seemed indifferent as he rose and looked at each man in turn. “Here begins combat for possession of the
woman T’Preve,” he announced loudly. “Challenge has been lawfully issued and
accepted. T’Preve,
are you prepared to become the property of the victor?”
“I am,”
she answered in a small voice, her eyes locked on Spock’s face. He gazed back at her with a grim
determination that both frightened her and gave her hope. But Stahl’s visage held an almost identical
expression and hatred tinged the auras of both men almost palpably.
“Let
combat begin,” Anskar commanded. “It is finished when one man lies dead or yields.”
He sat back down.
Spock
and Stahl both nodded a bow at him then turned and
strode back onto the sand. Stahl hung
back for a step or two and allowed the other man to go ahead of him. Just as Spock noticed his ploy and turned,
Stahl attacked, slamming his shield hard into Spock’s left shoulder.
The
blow staggered Spock and knocked him off balance for a second, but it was the
advantage Stahl was looking for. He
leveled a vicious slash of his sword at Spock, who ducked away just in time and
countered with his shield. Before he
could recover, Stahl swung at him again and once more Spock blocked it. Then, rage taking the place of surprise, he counterattacked
with a powerful swing of his own sword.
Stahl
met it with his shield and slashed back at him.
Sword met sword and sparks flew as the blades crashed together. Again and again and again the two weapons
came together in equal force, then the two men backed
off for a minute, both breathing hard and warily circling each other.
Stahl
lunged again, a series of hard blows that ultimately knocked the shield out of
Spock’s grasp and sent it flying. A
flash of triumph crossed the warrior’s face but was gone in an instant as Spock
grasped the hilt of his sword with both hands and launched into a devastating
attack, battering
Stahl backwards with staggering blows to his shield. After retreating a dozen paces, Stahl
suddenly slammed his sword up in a jarring clash with Spock’s. The guards locked for a long moment of fierce
struggle, then the two men broke apart once more,
gasping for breath and marshaling their strength for the next assault.
This
time Spock attacked first, springing forward with a harsh cry and a slash of
his sword that knocked Stahl off his feet, loosing his grip on his shield and
sprawling him in the sand. Spock swung a
downward blow aimed at his opponent, but Stahl rolled out of the blade’s path
an instant before it connected. Scrambling,
he got to his feet and tossed his shield away, crouching into defensive
position, his grip on his sword two-handed as
well. Spock came at him again and the
two swords met in a cacophony of ringing steel.
Stahl was bigger in stature, but Spock was pressing the attack and
forcing the larger man back.
Stahl
came up against one of the stone pylons and could retreat no farther. With murderous intent, Spock drew back to
deliver the final blow, but Stahl used the leverage of the pylon to abruptly
place his boot in Spock’s midsection, shoving him back and off-balance enough
for Stahl to lunge at him with a clumsy blow to his head. The impact sent Spock backwards into the
sand, his helmet flying off, and knocking his sword out of his hand as he hit.
Stahl
gave a mirthless, victorious laugh and sprang at him, bringing his sword blade
down in a two-handed blow. But as Stahl
had done, Spock rolled as the blade bit into the sand where his body had been
an instant earlier and leaped to his feet, snatching up his sword as he did
so. Now, however, it was Spock’s turn to
retreat from Stahl’s attack, countering the blows sword to sword.
Stahl
swung at his head and Spock ducked the blade, then abruptly moved behind Stahl
as the warrior’s momentum spun him past and brought the pommel of his sword
down hard on Stahl’s shoulders. The
bigger man staggered with the blow and the shock radiating down his arms caused
him to lose his grip and drop his sword.
Before he could recover, Spock kicked it far out of his reach, then
danced back out of his range, sword at ready and catching his breath.
Stahl
was down on one knee, panting with exertion, and glaring at his opponent,
obviously thinking hard about his next move.
After a moment, he got to his feet and unwrapped
the ahn-woon from around his waist and began
moving to find an advantageous angle. Spock countered, watching him closely,
fully aware of how deadly the long leather strap could be. It could be used as a whip, a bola, or a
garrote and, in practiced hands, could blind an opponent or break bones with
ease.
As
Stahl began slowly swinging the long whip-like weapon over his head, Spock
tensed, trying to calculate Stahl’s target.
He was prepared when Stahl snapped the ahn-woon
at his ankles and leaped back just in time, scrambling to keep out of the
weapon’s range. A sword was an uncertain
match for an ahn-woon and Spock backed away,
thinking desperately. Then, as Stahl
pulled the strap back to him for another assault, Spock suddenly sprang at him,
his sword drawn back to strike.
Stahl,
though taken by surprise, recovered with the ease of an experienced combat
veteran and used Spock’s momentum against him, grasping the front of the
crimson surcoat and throwing them both into a dive
that landed both men hard on the ground.
Spock was unprepared and had the breath knocked out of him as he hit,
but more importantly his sword was knocked out of his grasp and away from his
reach.
Before
he could recover, Stahl was on him, wrapping the ahn-woon
around his throat and yanking it tight.
For an instant, Spock panicked and clawed at the constricting band, then
he heard T’Preve’s cry of anguish and despair echo
across the arena — whether out loud or in his mind, he was never sure — but it
spurred him into furious action.
Locking
his opponent in a murderous glare, Spock reached down and drew his dagger from
its sheath then brought it up to his own throat. Stahl’s brows twitched in surprise and alarm,
clearly wondering if Spock intended to kill himself rather than allow Stahl the
victory. But Spock somehow managed to
dig his fingers underneath the leather band around his neck, allowing him just
enough room to slide the blade of the dagger underneath it — and suddenly, with
a snap of parting leather, he was free.
Instantly,
he had flipped Stahl over onto his back and was sitting astride him, the blade
jammed up into the muscles beneath the warrior’s jaw, blood already spurting
from the long cut across Stahl’s throat.
Stahl
started to make a grab for the dagger, but Spock simultaneously caught his
wrist and thrust the dagger harder against the bulging veins in Stahl’s
neck. “Yield or die!” Spock ground out
hoarsely, homicidal rage darkening his face.
Stahl
made a move to struggle, but Spock demanded again, “Yield or die!” and
was clearly prepared to bury his blade all the way into Stahl’s throat.
At
last, Stahl croaked, “Yield! I yield!”, his face contorted with the shame of defeat and the agony
of not wishing to die at his rival’s hand.
“Kroykah!” came Anskar’s voice in absolute command and suddenly strong
hands were dragging Spock to his feet and away from his defeated opponent. It took him a moment to realize that the
hands belonged to Suvakh and Ansaric.
Temek and Stahl’s
other supporters were helping him to his feet, Temek
wrapping a bandage around his captain’s neck to staunch the flow of blood from
the cut sliced across his throat. Anskar came to stand beside Spock, who was slowly regaining
control of himself, his bloody dagger still clutched in his right hand.
Loudly,
Anskar announced, “Stahl has yielded combat to Spock!
I declare that Stahl has forfeited all rights and possession to the woman T’Preve and that she is now the property of Spock. Further, in yielding, Stahl has forfeited his
life into Spock’s hands. Spock — declare judgment! The right is yours!”
The
crowd grew silent and Stahl glared in hatred at the victor of their battle,
waiting breathlessly to hear his fate.
Spock drew himself up and took a deep breath, glowering back at the man
who had tormented him ever since his arrival here.
“Stahl,
hear me!” he said in a voice that carried throughout the Ring Stone
complex. “I give you back your life but
I hereby banish you from Shar’ram and the
Stahl
gave a cry of rage and sprang toward him, but was held back by his more prudent
lieutenants. “You s’lata
spawn!” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“How dare you presume to banish me! And you, Anskar —
after a lifetime of service to you — will you now stand there silent and allow
this ... this bastard of no Household to disgrace me?”
Anskar sighed and
straightened, his scarred face seeming older than its years. “Combat has been fairly completed and
judgment lawfully pronounced. I have no
choice, Stahl, but to accept it by our laws and traditions.”
Stahl’s
face darkened with rage and he jerked loose from the hands holding him. “A plague be upon
your laws and traditions!” He spat
vehemently into the sand in disgust then turned his glare on Spock. “As for you, this banishment goes both ways. Set one foot outside of your imposed limit
and I will subject you to a death beyond your worst nightmares. And if she is with you, before you
die, you will watch me feast on her heart and the hearts of her children! Mark me well and remember my words!”
With
that, Stahl spun and marched away toward the Holding to gather his
belongings. Temek
went with him and, after a few seconds of hesitation, so did two other
warriors, then four, and finally his entire cohort of twenty. All were gone from Shar’ram
within the hour.
As soon
as the men had left the Ring, Spock staggered and nearly fell from
exhaustion. Ansaric
lunged to catch him and then T’Preve was by his side,
also supporting him. As he looked down
into her pale features, wan with stress and streaked with tears, he felt
strength coming back into him and he pulled her to him, folding her in an
embrace of relief and love.
Then,
removing his mail gauntlets and passing them to Ansaric,
Spock held out his right hand to T’Preve, his first
two fingers extended. She blinked up at
him in surprise and amazement, then a smile of utter adoration broke across her
face and she touched her fingers to his.
Solemnly, he led her before the Holder Anskar.
“My
lord,” he said, his gaze focused on T’Preve’s
beautiful face. “Before this company and
in the sight of our ancestors and the Goddess, I declare this woman my legal
wife. I bequeath to her all my lands and possessions, and acknowledge that her
children are my children, her House is my House. And I pledge to her my loyalty
and faithfulness, my honor and industry, all the days of my life.”
T’Preve’s
mahogany eyes were shining with tears as she smiled in devotion at the man
beside her. “My lord,” she said, “before this company
and in the sight of our ancestors and the Goddess, I declare this man to be my
legal husband. I give him all my lands
and possessions and acknowledge that my children are his children, my House is
his House. And I pledge to him my
loyalty and devotion, my faithfulness and industry, all the days of my life.”
They
turned to each other and placed their fingertips on the other’s face, reaching
out to each other with their minds, strengthening the bond that had already
been formed between them. Anskar placed a hand on each dark head and mentally probed
the mindlink between them, then backed off and lifted
his hands above each.
“In the
name of the Goddess Heya and by the laws of this
House, I declare that this man and this woman have bonded in mutual consent and
shall henceforth in all aspects be husband and wife! May their union be long and fruitful!”
As
Spock and T’Preve embraced, a cheer went up from the
crowd surrounding them and then they were mobbed by well-wishers, the tension
of a short while before becoming exultation at the unexpected outcome of the
morning’s events. Tragedy had turned to
celebration, death into life, and for a moment — an oh-so-brief moment — the
coming war was forgotten.
Anskar allowed
the congratulations to go on for a few moments more, then
signaled his steward to sound the metal gong that hung inside one of the arches
of the pavilion. The stentorian tone
shocked everyone to silence and they turned to face the Holder.
“We
honor the joining day of Spock and T’Preve but our
celebrations must be set aside until later.
Ansaric has brought me an urgent message from Sefak of Tuldu’un. The armies of Tuldu’un
have engaged the forces of D’Khahl at the