Exiting the pavilion, the sun hit Tif square in the face, so she lifted her Pep hand over her eyes to see more clearly.
The space she was in was large and flat with no structures, maybe hundred paces by a hundred. Long stands were set to the right and left of the sparse middle, abutting the wall of tents she had come through to make a box of sorts. The stands looked to be cut from creamy marble, and were already full of people talking among themselves, their collection of voices creating a low hum. On the far end of the open space there seemed to be another smaller stand facing her--she could see its cream-colored edges. However, Tif couldn’t tell if it was occupied or not because an enormous white curtain was strung up in front of it, supported by an arched frame of gold.
Walking forward, Tif felt strangely off balance, and it took her a moment to realize why. Nearly everything in Lercel was on some sort of angle, but here, standing on the tightly packed rock and hard dirt, she experienced no tilt or pull on her body at all besides straight down.
It was disconcerting to say the least.
With her eyes on the eerily flat space, Tif noticed a golden disc embedded into the ground. The object was about as big around as her palm and featured a cluster of geometric shapes reminiscent of Gold ris. She was considering kneeling down to give it a closer look, but spotted Sur-Rak in the distance and decided she’d rather see the keshe’s face at being proved wrong. There were a number of people milling about in the central part of the field between them, who Tif assumed were the other candidates--some human, most kehse--but Sur-Rak stood well apart from all but two.
Tif had traveled about a quarter of the way there when a different keshe stepped in front of her. She was very tall, close to seven feet, and had both sides of her head shaved. Gold ris glinted where hair would have been, and sunstones shone in both of her extended ears. For all her ferocity and size though, the keshe seemed on the younger side to Tif.
“Duel me.”
“Ex-cuse me?” Tif replied. Was this part of the challenges?
“I’ll wager all of my ris,” the tall keshe said.
Only those of noble rank could attend recruitment, so the girl was casually gambling two whole seals worth of ris, which Tif could hardly believe.
“All of it?” she checked.
“Yes,” the keshe said. Her eyes weren’t as yellow as her sunstones, not like the Archon’s brother’s had been. Instead, they had a touch of orange in them, which seemed to match her fire.
Tif looked around at her fellow candidates and didn’t see any of them gearing up to duel. That meant this kehse was likely trying to knock Tif out of the running before the challenges began or saw a chance to get a foreign type of ris. In actuality, Tif would love two seals of Gold; it was what she had played the lotto for, after all. And the regulator had said she had three seals, which meant she had just enough room on her body for two more. However…
“Shouldn’t we be preparing for the recruitment?” Tif asked.
“If you’re afraid,” the keshe growled, her sharp teeth flashing, “don’t hide behind excuses.”
The tall noble brushed past Tif, briefly activating Tif’s seal that took energy; Tif felt a dash of heat where there arms touched, but it was over so quickly the keshe didn’t seem to notice, moving toward another nearby candidate, maybe to try and duel them, too.
Tif continued on her way, and as she did, she noticed that some in the stands were tracking her movements. A few she saw were talking quite animatedly, gesturing and pointing at her, undoubtedly about her Blood tattoos. Part of her was tempted to swing over to see if they knew anything about her ris, but she wasn’t sure how soon recruitment would begin and wanted to talk with Sur-Rak beforehand if she could.
It was in the last dozen or so paces that Sur-Rak and the two other keshe girls she was with finally noticed Tif’s advance. Sur-Rak was wearing her usual modest garb, as were both of her companions, though neither of them had a full side of their heads shaved, just up to their eyebrows. These two looked at Tif in mild surprise, while Sur-Rak appeared absolutely livid at the sight of her.
Tif had expected this--well, something like this--which was why speaking with Sur-Rak now was important. It wouldn’t do Tif any good if partway through the challenges the pompous noble spotted her and started shouting that she had seen Tif the day before without any ris.
Sur-Rak swept over to scowl down at her. “You thief.”
“I...what?” Tif said, caught off guard by the accusation.
“You know her?” the keshe girl on the right said, clicking her overlong nails together and sounding scandalized.
Sur-Rak pointed at Tif’s tattoos but wisely did not touch them--perhaps she knew what Blood ris could do.
“What did you take as you left? My mother’s Oren vas? The Dricci wall hangings?” She had a sharp intake of breath as if just thinking something, and her voice dropped to a hiss. “Did you take my Lehru das pieces? I saw you looking at them. If they have one crack when they’re recovered I will strip it from your hide.”
“I didn’t take anything,” Tif said. She backed away from Sur-Rak but the keshe hounded her in tight circles. “Only the flats you paid me.”
“You paid her?” the keshe with long nails said.
“If not from me than from someone else in the highs,” Sur-Rak snapped. “Underground dealings are the only way you could go from nothing to this in a day.” Her lip lifted in a sneer. “Unless you’re going to try and convince me that the lotto pays out in Blood ris now?”
Tif didn’t like how accurate Sur-Rak’s guesses were, but they had finally gotten to the part of the conversation she had planned for. She planted her feet and spoke as calmly as she could.
“I was drained of power when we played,” Tif said to Sur-Rak, taking a page from her experience with Torgath. “That’s why you didn’t know I had ris.”
Sur-Rak’s eyes narrowed, and Tif could see her contemplating the likelihood of such a thing much like she had decided on her das plays.
“But we spoke of your Birth Price, your parents,” Sur-Rak said, probing at her claim. “You told me you didn’t have any seals.”
“I was lying,” Tif said simply.
“Lying?” Sur-Rak replied, clearly finding it hard to imagine that someone would dare do such a thing to her.
“I wanted information about the challenges and didn’t want to reveal who I was until today. I had to tell you something.”
“So,” Sur-Rak said, stepping back as if to view Tif more fully while her two companions continued to watch the exchange with interest. “You’re from the Blood Plains, rich in ris, but spend your time playing das in the mids. Is that the right of it?” Her tone made it obvious how little she believed the idea.
Tif shrugged. “I love the game and needed something to do before the challenges.”
Sur-Rak swept back in, like she had scented blood. “And why exactly would you want to participate in our recruitment?”
Tif could answer the same way she had the administrator, and it would even be true--she did want to become a knight. But she had shared something with Sur-Rak, something precious, and she wasn’t going to back down from it.
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“Because my goal?” This time it was Tif who stepped toward Sur-Rak, leaving no more to take between them. “The one I told you about? That was true.”
Sur-Rak’s snorted, her expression warring between anger and incredulity. “You can’t be ser--”
“Where is that marvelous smell coming from?”
Tif and Sur-Rak turned to see a keshe boy only a few feet away. He wore a slate grey tunic and pants with gold trim and had none of his head shaved, which let his braided hair fall around his shoulders. Seeing he was spotted, he gave Sur-Rak a low leg.
“Cousin,” he said, and as he rose, he caught Tif in his eyes. They were red, nearly the same color as Tif’s tattoos. “Why, it’s you is it? Your scent reminds me of my months on the road. I hadn’t thought to smell the like among such…kept people.”
“Jer,” Sur-Rak said, sounding little happier with him than she had been with Tif. “Still eager to butt your oversized nose into other people’s affairs. I suppose you’ll blame it on your time away from proper society.”
Tif thought he had a fine nose, long, true, but it fit his face well. Not that such a thing mattered when compared against Sur-Rak’s other words and her reaction to him. This had to be the Archon’s son.
“Some habits are impossible to grow out of,” he said, smiling widely. “So, who is your friend?”
“She’s no one,” Sur-Rak said, her expression suddenly neutral.
He surprised Tif by gently poking her shirt-covered shoulder.
“Not an illusion created by a seal of Tears,” Jer said to Sur-Rak. “She’s certainly there and everyone is someone. I thought for sure you’d be better mannered after a full three years of my absence.”
Tif swore she could hear Sur-Rak’s teeth grinding. “I meant she is no one of consequence.”
The Archon’s son leaned a bit toward Tif, talking out of the side of his mouth to her while looking right at Sur-Rak.
“You’ll have to excuse the rudeness of my cousin. She’s lived her whole life in Lercel and so is only familiar with the barbaric custom of valuing people like one might different types of metal ore.”
“And where exactly can one find a more refined culture, cousin?” Sur-Rak said. “The treetops of Life, above the altars where they sacrifice newborns? Or perhaps the huts of the Blood Plains, where you can hear the moans of the slaves they keep penned for bloodletting.” This last she said while scowling at Tif.
Jer seemed unperturbed. “I’d say even the territories of Death value life more in their daily living than most on this mountain.”
“You’ve met people from Death?” Tif asked, disbelieving. No one talked to people from Death. The only thing those tribes were said to care about was killing.
He smiled at her indulgently, clearly pleased by the question.
“Quite. It’s actually--”
“You’re not the only one who has been traveling,” a young man’s voice said.
Tif turned and was surprised to see a human covered in tattoos. His head was fully shaved in the style of the Archon: the left half covered in shimmering Gold tattoos and the other in green Life. It was an odd combination because the golden side of his face was coldly beautiful while the left was...sensual--soft lips and a strong jaw that Tif suddenly wanted to touch. She knew that there weren’t as many humans in Lercel’s upper classes as keshe, but there were some, and the amount of ris on display surely meant he came from one of those families. A human girl and a keshe boy of all things followed in the newcomer’s wake, and the girl had some green tattoos as well.
The Archon’s son smiled. “So kind of you to get some seals of Life, Tad. I’ll appreciate your support during the group matches should we be put together.”
Tif’s attention immediately went from their ris to their words. Would that be the first challenge? And it sounded like there were teams. Sur-Rak certainly wouldn’t work with her, but the Archon’s son seemed easy going enough, or maybe this young man with the shaved head since they were both human?
Tad stepped closer until he was staring up at Jer. “Enjoy the view while you can. It will be flipped soon enough.”
Jer shook his head, seeming almost sad. “It is not the view I would choose. It is simply the way things are.”
“If you two are going to peck at each other,” Sur-Rak said, “you can do it away from us.”
“If you want someone to look down on you,” Jer said to Tad, “I recommend Sur. It comes quite naturally to her.”
“Make all the jokes you want,” Tad said. “Your quick tongue won’t matter soon enough.”
“Actually--” Jer said, opening his mouth wide, and Tif thought she saw a flash of ris in it. However, the young man had already turned away, his entourage in tow, and the Archon’s son stopped whatever it was he had been about to do. “How rude of him to leave while someone is talking,” Jer pouted.
Tif tried to see his tongue as he spoke, but he was too tall and the sentence too short.
“You’re a fool,” Sur-Rak said. “The amount of inane things you manage to say is almost impressive.”
“From you, cousin,” he said, “any compliment is worth its weight in gold.” He made another leg to her and then spun away but not before giving Tif a wink as he went.
She let him get out of earshot before turning to Sur-Rak.
“You don’t really think he’s a fool.”
Tif wasn’t just saying that because of what Sur-Rak had confided in her the day before. For all his jests, the Archon’s son seemed very much...in control.
Sur-Rak’s lips pulled back in a snarl. “What I think is that after these two challenges, I’ll have you strung up for theft or worse.” She made a show of looking at Tif’s ris disparagingly. “If you even survive that long.”
Sur-Rak stalked away, followed by her companions. The long-nailed keshe wiggled her fingers at Tif as she left, as if they were some sort of threat, and the quiet one departed without so much as looking her way.
Tif took a deep breath. “Could have been worse,” she said to Pep. Even though it had been like jumping into a street fete without knowing the dances or having a friend in sight, she had come out the other side with an idea of what one of the challenges would be and who to watch out for.
Besides the eight candidates she had already met, Tif thought there were about that many others spread around. She was deciding who to approach next when the sight of the administrator striding to the center of the field stopped her.
“Welcome to the seventy-third annual recruitment!” he said, his large voice carrying well in the open space. The keshe waved his hand to the left, causing his long sleeve to flap like a flag. “We have a representative from each of the seven Aspect knight units in attendance who will choose which candidates shall join their illustrious ranks.”
Tif turned in the direction he was indicating and sure enough it was the stand that had the overlarge curtain hanging in front. She hoped that it would open revealing those behind, but it didn’t, and the administrator transitioned to stating the names of the participants.
His speech was interrupted for Tif by the appearance of a keshe in the light yellow robes of a servant. He didn’t make eye contact with her, whether out of deference or a lack of desire to be serving her, Tif couldn’t tell. He did, however, motion for her to follow, which she complied with. The servant keshe led her to one of the burnished discs of metal embedded into the ground. It shone brightly, clearly recently polished, and like the other she had seen, depicted a geometric shape common to Gold tattoos. He indicated that she should put one foot atop the disc, which she did, and then he left.
Watching his departure, Tif saw that other yellow-robed servants were taking the various candidates to discs that either lined up with hers or were far across the field from her and those on her side. The candidate who was delivered to the spot directly opposite her ended up being the keshe boy who had been tagging along with Tad, the wealthy human.
Tif wasn’t sure what the first challenge would entail, but this setup reminded her a great deal of a das board with Aspects facing off against each other.
“If that’s how it is, should have paid more attention to him,” Tif said to Pep. Pep looked up at her, one eye crinkled. “True,” Tif said, “there was a lot going on. He probably only has Gold ris anyway. What really matters is what style he’ll use.”
Tif imagined that the gold discs represented their starting points, but if so, there was a lot of space to cover between them, at least eighty paces.
“It’s okay. I’m good at running and can heal if I get hit.”
Movement to the sides distracted Tif from her potential opponent, and she discovered that the discs next to hers now both had occupants. These two were much closer than the one across, each only ten or so paces away. To Tif’s left stood the quiet keshe who had been with Sur-Rak, and to her right was a keshe boy she hadn’t met yet. His face was sour, and he wore a sleeveless vest and shorts that revealed limbs tightly packed with Gold ris.
“--Tif,” she heard the administrator say and turned to find him. However, she saw that he was still speaking to the crowds, not her, so it was probably just that she had ended his list and done so abruptly since she had only given him one name. “The first challenge,” he continued, “will be a duel, but at ten times the normal distance. Only those who can control their ris from such a range can hope to protect us from the high vantage of Lercel’s outer wall.”
Tif shared a mildly frustrated but accepting look with Pep; it wasn’t ideal, but at least it was what she had expected. She bent her knees a bit, getting ready to sprint forward as soon as the administrator called for them to start.
He strode over to the row that Tif was part of. “They will take it in turns striking at each other, each given three attempts. If at any point a candidate’s foot stops touching the disc they are on, the challenge will be over for that pair.”
Tif stopped breathing. She couldn’t leave the spot? How was she going to attack?
“Left side, ready!” the administrator called.
In a half panic, Tif wasn’t sure if she was part of the left or not. She looked side to side and saw the keshe boy next to her lift a hand to his face, his pointer and middle finger extended in an unusual form. She wished she wasn’t on the left; she’d have time to come up with something then.
“Strike!”
Tif was so used to hearing the ris masters she listened to in the mids call out such attacks, she responded without thinking, punching forward. Halfway through the strike she tried to do something with it--maybe her seal that drained energy could work from a distance or maybe her third Blood seal created some sort of ranged attack. But her arm reached its full extension before those thoughts were fully formed, and so, just like when she had punched Vak-Lav’s thug with one good eye, nothing at all happened.