The Mortal Mage, page 21
part #3 of The Mortal Mage Series
Beatrix got up slowly as if she’d been relaxed before this. She leaned over Desil and put her hand on his forehead. A spell of drowsiness came over him, as soothing as a blanket of silk.
He woke several times during the night, but he was able to fall back to sleep before any worries took over his mind and kept him up. Something kept pulling him toward the other plane, but his fatigue was too strong for it to have any power over him.
They got to work in the morning, unsure when Kirnich and Beatrix would have to fight. It wasn’t long before a group of Krepps—possibly the same as before—came to watch. They were lively this time, pointing and laughing often. The source of their amusement appeared to be Kirnich, as Desil instructed him and Beatrix while the three worked to build their temporary home.
“What are they saying?” the warrior asked.
Desil stopped so he could listen. “From what I gather, they think it’s funny how the best human swordsman doesn’t know how to build.”
“Let them laugh, Kirnich,” Beatrix said. “They’ll underestimate you.”
“It doesn’t matter if they underestimate me or overestimate me. They’ll still lose.”
“You’ve fought one Krepp,” Beatrix said. “Don’t be overconfident. If one of them surprises you, they could send you out of here. Then even psyche isn’t going to convince them to let you come back.”
“I was the best of anyone in the Academy by my third year. I earned the Redfield Champion title. I’ve only gotten better since then. I won’t lose.”
“But how accustomed are you to fighting opponents who are stronger than you?” Desil asked.
“Cleve Polken was my instructor.”
“He’s much older than you,” Beatrix pointed out.
“And yet he’s somehow stronger. If you don’t believe me, use psyche to see if I’m telling the truth.”
“But did you beat him?” she asked.
Kirnich was silent for a moment. “He’s better than any of these Krepps. Relax, Princess. I won’t lose. You should worry instead about one of them resisting you.”
Beatrix laughed.
Desil wasn’t sure he liked his comrades so arrogant, but apparently there was nothing he could do to change that.
It took until the afternoon for Nebre to show up. By then, the three of them had finished setting up the base of their structure. They’d made good progress on the walls as well, weaving many stripped saplings in and out across the thick poles. When the walls were done, the roof would come next, but that would have to be tomorrow. Hopefully it wouldn’t rain. The clouds in the sky looked ominous.
“I’m here to take all of you to the arena,” Nebre said.
“We haven’t eaten today,” Kirnich complained.
“No Krepp came with food?”
“No.”
Nebre grumbled something in his native tongue as he looked around. He walked over to the group of Krepps and said something as he gestured. They spoke back to him in aggressive tones, two of them spitting on the ground. Nebre stayed firm and spat right back. Soon the whole group was headed somewhere except for Nebre, who returned to Desil’s group.
It didn’t matter how many distractions there were, Desil couldn’t forget that all of this effort and hardship would be for nothing if the Wind Knights never showed up to help them. It was hard enough to get these Krepps to give them food. He didn’t see any way to make the creatures build a complicated and dangerous device using the akorell and eppil.
Nebre told them, “Krepps say only the smaller male knows how to build. Is this true?”
“What of it?” Kirnich challenged.
Nebre let out a sound of disappointment, something like, “maah.” He followed with, “Krepps need to respect you to let you stay and to feed you. Why don’t all of you know how to build? You are powerful.” But Nebre put up his hand before anyone answered. “I know not all humans build. I’m frustrated, not thinking. Many Krepps don’t like you here, and they are changing the minds of others. I defend you as I can, but I don’t have the time to take care of every need.”
“We have only one need,” Kirnich responded with anger. “To eat.”
Beatrix put her hand on Kirnich’s arm. “We understand, Nebre,” she said. “We will prove ourselves when we fight soon. Are those Krepps bringing a meal back to us?”
“No. I couldn’t convince them. Other Krepps were responsible at first, but they have chosen to ignore their responsibilities now. I sent the Krepps you saw here to find those other Krepps and make sure they are at the arena. You will fight one of them.”
“Good,” Kirnich said with a smile. “Wait.” His mouth went flat. “So we’re not eating before we fight?”
“No. Follow me to the arena.”
Desil started collecting their bags. He didn’t want Kirnich to have to carry three like usual, for the warrior was already hungry and tired from working, so Desil took two in his arms and one on his back.
“Give one to me,” Kirnich insisted.
“You’re fighting and I’m not.”
Beatrix asked Nebre, “How far to the arena?”
“About five hundred steps.”
Desil cursed inwardly. He couldn’t make it that far without dragging the bags most of the way. Well, he wasn’t fighting. Who cared if he lost respect with the Krepps?
“Are you sure, Desil?” Kirnich asked as they started following Nebre.
“I am. The bigger issue is that we can’t have the Krepps laughing at you and Beatrix for not being able to build. Let me explain what we’re going to have to do when we get back.” Through grunts of effort, Desil told them how they would finish splitting saplings and weaving them through the small trunks to make walls. They would then have to build the roof with leaves. The broad, dry ones were better. They would have to find many of them and run a stick through them. They could then tie the sticks onto the frame they’d finished using vines, which they would also have to find.
“We’ll be lucky to finish before tomorrow night,” Desil said.
Kirnich took one hand off the two akorell bags he carried and turned up his palm as if to feel for rain. He cursed.
Desil looked up and felt a drop hit his face.
“I should be able to get rope for you,” Nebre said.
“Thank you,” Beatrix replied. “But it seems that we’re going to need to sleep beneath a roof tonight.”
“I would invite you to sleep beneath my roof, but I would lose the respect of my Krepps, and then I would lose my power in the tribe. My seshar would leave to sleep under another Krepp’s roof.”
“Is there anything else that can be done?” Beatrix asked. “We need a roof tonight.”
Nebre seemed to be in thought as he put one hand against his chin. Desil couldn’t help but notice that they were large and strong hands, free to help carry one of the terribly heavy bags that was starting to make Desil’s arm burn.
“I cannot think of a solution,” Nebre said.
“I’m going to at least need some water before I fight,” Kirnich said. “Your Krepps already won’t be facing my best self.”
“I will bring you water after we arrive.” Nebre sounded irritated about this responsibility.
In the silence that followed, Desil could focus on nothing else but the heavy bags and his parched throat. He needed more of a distraction.
“When did you and your seshar…I don’t know the right word. Marry?” he asked Nebre.
“Three years ago. She’s never happy when I must help humans.”
“Why?”
“I have duties. Every Krepp does. We are paid for these duties. I worry about mine while I’m away.”
“What do you do?”
“I don’t know if there is a word in common tongue. I’m responsible for everything that happens at the library. I am responsible for all books and all Krepps who take a book.”
“You manage the library,” Desil said.
“Manage is the word for that?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes. I realize it might be easy work for humans, but Krepps have less respect for books. They are often damaged or missing. It is much work, but I trust the other Krepp who helps me when I must help you. Zoke, an old friend.”
Desil had heard of Zoke, but he was too tired and hungry to recall anything about the Krepp. He asked, “How many books are there in the library?”
Nebre smiled for the first time since they’d arrived. “There used to be three. Now there are three hundred.”
It still seemed like a small number for thousands of Krepps, but Desil supposed it was rare for a Krepp to read in his or her spare time.
“How many Krepps are literate?” At seeing Nebre’s confusion, Desil specified, “How many Krepps can read?”
“I don’t know. Every Krepp who comes to the library can read…” Nebre paused to think. “There might be one of one hundred Krepps who can read. Teaching them is not my job. Zoke does that usually. I help Krepps choose books. Craft books are the most popular, like sword making. I’m in the process of copying that book for the fifth time.”
“Do the sword makers also smelt?” Desil asked.
“Yes.”
Desil looked at Beatrix and Kirnich. They nodded to show they understood.
“I hope my horse is being taking care of by its new owner,” Desil mused aloud.
“I hope so” was all Nebre offered on that subject.
After a little while, Desil had to drag the bags. He blamed his lack of energy on his meager meal when Nebre looked down at him with disapproval.
“Am I ever going to get anything to eat besides bread and porridge while I’m here?” Desil asked.
“No meat unless you fight. It’s not my decision, human.”
“What about some beans, at least?”
“When do you want me to speak to my father about beans? Before I fetch water for the three of you or after?” Nebre’s irritation was as plain as the rain clouds overhead. “I’m sorry, Desil,” he added after a moment. “Your requests are fair. I will do what I can.”
Desil still regretted bringing it up. “Don’t if it’s too much trouble.”
He would have to find time to forage and hunt at some point after their shelter was built. It was almost laughable that he figured he would one day construct three shelters so they would have some privacy.
Everything would change when the Wind Knights showed up.
The arena looked different from the last time Desil was here, when Basen had made a portal into the colony without any Krepp’s permission. Thousands of the creatures now crowded within and around the outside of a fence that was made from standing logs roped together. Many flags stuck out between groups of Krepps. They were of dark colors with various images of intimidation, from fangs and claws to swords and hammers.
“What are the flags for?” Desil asked.
Nebre scrunched his mouth as he scratched his head. “I don’t know the word. Groups of Krepps who have come together. Some have flags to…represent their group.”
“Are the Krepps in each group related?” Beatrix asked.
“Some by blood. Some by seshar’s blood. Some not related by blood. Friendship only. It was difficult for my father to choose who you fight.” Nebre lifted his head to look around. “I don’t see him. Follow me.”
He led them through the crowd to get into the arena. The Krepps who noticed the humans stopped their chattering to gawk. Some laughed. More of them spat on the ground. The smarter ones looked at Kirnich longer with what Desil assumed to be curiosity. None of the Krepps had eyebrows, but familiar wrinkles still formed across their foreheads as their scaly skin stretched upward from their eyes.
Nebre brought them through the arena and into its center, where a bald Krepp seemed to have the attention of all the Krepps around him. The folds in the skin on his neck showed his age, his yellow eyes a little less bright. The Krepps flanking him stopped complaining about something when they saw the humans.
“Humans, this is my father, Rickik.” Nebre transitioned to Kreppen as he introduced them to his father.
Desil lowered his head. When he lifted it and saw Rickik looking at Kirnich and Beatrix, with their bowed heads, Desil set down the bags and took the last one off his back. He tried not to show his relief as the bottles within the bags banged against each other.
“You fight with that sword?” Rickik asked Kirnich, pointing to his sheath. The Krepp’s accent was heavy, the words spoken slowly from his stomach.
“What’s wrong with it?” Kirnich asked.
Nebre already had his hands up. “Translation problem. My father is asking if you are the sword fighter he has heard about.”
Nebre turned to his father. “Yes, the large human will use the sword.” He transitioned into Kreppen.
He and his father spoke for a little while, both ignoring a slew of Krepps trying to talk to Rickik. Eventually, Rickik showed a face full of anger as he shoved one of the Krepps away and yelled something. The other Krepps calmed down after that.
When Nebre left to get Desil’s party water, Rickik finally began setting up the arena for the bouts. Apparently all he had to do was get all of the Krepps out of the enormous arena, but it took so long that he wasn’t finished before Nebre returned much later.
Desil was allowed to stay within the fence of the arena, all six akorell bags by his feet. He was glad to remain here because he wouldn’t have been able to see over the Krepps if he’d been forced out, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to push through to the front.
There often seemed to be at least two Krepps in the audience fighting. Real fighting. They would actually hit one another into submission, at times, for a prime spot.
It didn’t seem wise for Rickik to allow this, but the Kreppen leader did nothing to stop it. He only watched these Krepps from the center with a disapproving scowl. Beatrix and Kirnich stood beside each other nearby. They exchanged words, but Desil was too far to hear them. Nebre stood beside his father and looked as if he didn’t want to be here.
If Desil hadn’t been hungry and aching from carrying the bags, he might’ve had it in him to be amused. Out of all places, they’d ended up here. Their enemies would one day find them in this colony, fighting for enough honor to remain. Micklin would probably come after them somehow, as would Fatholl. But until then, the Kreppen colony was the closest thing to a home.
The Krepps didn’t applaud like humans, but they did cheer with shouts and stomps when Rickik yelled something in their language.
Desil realized that there were no training swords in sight. He figured Nebre would’ve taken care of that, as well as ensured his father had established rules, but Desil wasn’t certain if even a discussion of either had happened.
Rickik spoke for a long while, and Desil eventually recognized enough words to glean the subject matter. There were rules after all, it seemed. “Aken iwa” was clearly stated a few times. Don’t kill. But another phrase was mentioned even more. “Aken soosh.” Rickik was telling them not to do something else, but Desil didn’t know what “soosh” meant.
When Rickik was done, there was a loud cheer. Desil was glad to see Nebre making his way over. As soon as he was close, Desil asked him about the word.
“Lose,” Nebre replied.
It wasn’t the answer Desil was hoping for.
“Is your father going to choose the best fighter to fight first?”
“No. He chooses the Krepp that paid the most.”
Good. “Do the other Krepps know this?”
“Yes.”
It explained why none of them were fighting each other to volunteer.
“Kalesh, jektik!” Rickik yelled.
“Jektik!” Echoed the thousands of cheering Krepps. Fight hard.
Kalesh, the first to fight, looked just like many of the other Krepps to Desil. He had bulging muscles, sharp claws at the ends of his fingers and toes, and scaled skin of dark gray. He put his hands on the top of the fence and hopped, starting to swing his legs over. But the log he held onto broke off. It fell with a thud, and so did Kalesh. Bracing himself with his hands wasn’t enough to keep his mouth from kissing the dirt.
The Krepps roared with clucking laughter, sounding like monstrous chickens. Kalesh got up and yelled at the Krepps behind him while pointing at the fallen log. He seemed to be accusing them of sabotage. They stopped their laughter presumably to deny it as they yelled back.
One of the accused jumped over the dilapidated part of the fence to put herself in Kalesh’s face. She was tall for a female Krepp, almost matching his height. He shoved her back as the two of them yelled. She charged him and got low to pick him up from the ground, slamming him on his back. They swung fists wildly. Kalesh eventually managed to throw her off, but she jumped onto his back as he tried to get up.
She yelled something as she stuck her claws into the back of his bald head. He screamed something, and she stopped pushing. No longer fighting back, he just lay there as she slowly got off him wearing a smile.
Rickik announced, “Elay, Jektik!” Elay, fight hard.
The crowd cheered and echoed, “Jektik!”
Elay lifted her arms in triumph as she walked toward the Kreppen leader in the center. Kalesh got himself out of the arena with a drooping head. He made sure to spit back into the arena three times, impressively far. There was certainly no human who could even reach half the distance that this Krepp did. But those around him weren’t impressed. They grabbed him and pushed him back into the crowd until Desil couldn’t see him any longer.
Rickik asked the crowd something else, and a few swords were thrown into the arena. Elay went to retrieve one of them. It wasn’t the closest sword or the farthest, so it seemed to be one she selected by its length, as it was the longest of the five on the ground, though not as wide as most.
It was still wider than Kirnich’s sword, however. He walked toward Elay, pointing his sword upward as if telling her he was ready. She mimicked him, then showed off her skill by flipping the sword. She hopped onto her hands and caught the sword with one of her feet. The crowd cheered again as Desil cursed.
Kirnich stopped, clearly shocked. Elay walked toward him on her hands, eliciting laughter from the crowd. Desil took this as an insult to Kirnich. He did the smart thing and charged her before she could change her mind. Her smile dissipated as she suddenly looked unsure what to do. She swiped her sword at him with her feet when he was close, though the swing was slow and uncoordinated. Kirnich batted it away with two hands, knocking her down in the process. The sword spun into the crowd and stuck into a Krepp’s arm. He screamed as he fell backward. Krepps hoisted him up, the sword protruding from his arm.
