Chapter 22

Staying awake proved difficult, but finally after an endless wait, the mountain’s shadow crept over Mato’s lean-to. This left the rest of the camp in the light of a nearly full moon, which should make him invisible in the darkness.

Mato slipped out, moving as quietly as possible, and padded into the cave.

It was utterly dark, and he felt his way along slowly.

“What are you doing, child?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin. This was exactly what he expected, but still…

“I am very sorry to disturb you, Great Lady. I received my spirit blade as a gift from my mother. Thus the wisdoms will not allow me to take a proper trial. Will you aid me?”

There was silence for a few seconds, and Mato began to worry that she had simply left.

“You mean us no harm?”

“No, Great Lady. I would defend you with all of my admittedly tiny power, should you need it.”

She laughed and put a hand on his shoulder. “I do not think we will need your power, Mato Stone Foot. Why have you come here?”

This was the signal that she was beginning the ritual.

“To become a better man, Great Lady.”

“Hmm. A variance. And what boon shall I give you, should you prove worthy?”

“The heart to do what must be done, Great Lady.”

“Interesting. And what must you do, Mato Stone Foot?”

“I don’t know, Great Lady. I simply wish to be ready when people need me.”

“Follow.” She took his hand and led him forward.

The ground under his boots changed from rock to something like brick or cobbles. Then a light came on. Before him there was a girl of about his age, a huge man, and a thema covered in scales. The thema was holding a whip.

“This woman stole. This man is innocent. The punishment is forty lashes. It would kill the woman, but the man would survive. You may ask me a single question. Then you must choose who to punish.”

Mato’s head spun. This wasn’t a normal trial. It couldn’t be. How could it test him to assign someone else a beating?

He couldn’t choose the girl. She would die, but choosing the man was almost as bad. He’d done nothing.

It was impossible not to choose. If he refused, they would beat the girl to death. Beating the man seemed like the only answer. Perhaps the lesson was that sometimes there was no good option.

“Mato Stone Foot, ask your question.”

He was out of time.

“Great Lady, can I accept the beating?” Why had he asked that question? It hadn’t even occurred to him. His traitorous mouth, the thing that stumbled and stuttered in front of strangers had promptly sold him out at the first opportunity.

“Yes.”

He looked at the whip. Could he survive the punishment? It wouldn’t do him any good to die here, and the people he was looking at might not be real. Maybe he should have asked that with his one question.

“You must choose,” the Great Lady said.

“I will accept the punishment.”

The thema walked to the edge of the light and rolled a barrel in from the darkness. He positioned it between two pairs of bolts that Mato had not noticed before. He took Mato’s sword and belt, then his shirt. Mato shivered in the cold air.

His feet were bound on one side of the barrel, and his hands on the other.

“Igasho, of the Aret, this court finds you innocent. You are free to go.”

“Thank you, Great Lady.” Igasho turned and walked into the darkness.

The Aret? Abo’s enemy? Was the woman also Aret? What kind of stupid rule was ‘one question only?’

They were real people, Mato decided. Igasho had thick muscles and hands scarred from hard work. Mato only caught a whiff from this distance, but he smelled of sweat and smoke. Perhaps a blacksmith.

“Mitexi, of the Aret, stand here.” The Great Lady walked around in front of Mato and pointed to a spot on the ground.

“Yes, Great Lady.” Her voice was soft. Her hands had calluses, so perhaps she was a farmer like him. He would have smiled at her as they passed, had they met under normal circumstances. Perhaps she would have smiled back.

“Mato, are you still willing?”

“Yes, Great Lady.”

The whip cracked like lightning, and an instant later pain seared across him. His bladder let go, and he screamed so hard he thought he might tear something in his throat. He could feel blood running down his back.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Mato?”

“Yes,” he wheezed.

The next one was worse. It picked up where the previous pain started, and then added to it like a second ox completes a team that pulls a greater load than both of their individual maximums.

“Mato?”

“Help me, Great Spirit.”

The lash cracked again. His voice cracked as he screamed in the aftermath.

“Let me do it,” Metexi said.

“It is not your choice,” the Great Lady said. “Mato?”

“Don’t kill her.”

The lash cracked. It turned out ox teams could be far larger than just two.

“Mato?”

“Help.”

Crack.

“Oh, please, let me do it,” Metexi sobbed. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Mato?”

“No. Not. Giving. Up. Don’t need to ask.”

Crack.

* * *

He hurt like he hadn’t known it was possible to hurt. The Great Lady was holding him in her arms, stomach down. Every step she took jarred him and he wanted to scream, but he didn’t have the breath.

They left the cave, and he could see a bit in the moon shadow, now stretched over the entire camp. He must have been in the trial for a couple of hours.

“Ezhno Trail Master, your student needs you,” the great lady said.

Footsteps pounded over and Mato heard Ezhno gasp. That wasn’t good. Ezhno didn’t react that way to a typical injury.

There was some rustling, and the lady set him on his bedroll, then turned away.

“Wait,” Mato gasped. “Did I save the girl?”

She turned and smiled down at him. “Normally I would not answer any further questions, but yes. You did.”

He smiled and his muscles relaxed just a little.

“What happened here?” That was Poplar’s voice.

“He went into the cave,” Ezhno said. “I think she took offense at the intrusion.”

“As well she might,” Tupi said. “We should kill him for his blaspheme.”

“I think she punished him exactly as much as she wanted him punished,” Ezhno said. “She might take offense if we question her judgment by punishing him further.”

“That is wise,” Poplar said. “Seekers, finders, come here. You must see this.”

Ezhno spread paste across his back. It hurt in some places, but not in others. Perhaps the whip had killed his ability to feel.

Someone retched, then a couple more followed.

“Blood has been spilled on this sacred ground,” Tupi said.

“The Great Lady spilled the blood,” Ezhno said. “I will wait here with Mato and ask her how I can make it right. I don’t think we should assume anything. Much better to simply ask.”

“That… is acceptable,” Tupi said. Feet crunched away. Voices spoke in near whispers. They were starting a betting pool to see if he lived.

Ezhno rolled him onto his side, then sat him up. Mato screamed, but it came out as a wheezing hiss. His teacher held a cup to his mouth. “Drink, Mato. You cannot heal without water.”

* * *

Sunlight woke him. It was warm. He opened his eyes, blinking to focus in the bright light. Ezhno had moved him next to the fireplace.

“You’re awake.” Ezhno grunted, then walked around into Mato’s view. “How do you feel?”

Mato risked moving a little. There were some twinges. The skin on his back felt tight and raw, but the pain was acceptable.

“Better. I think you were right about skipping my first trial.”

“What was it about, pain tolerance?” Ezhno asked.

“Mercy.”

“Well, they certainly didn’t give you very much.”

Mato laughed, then winced. “We need to make up some ground. They must be hours ahead of us by now.”

Ezhno frowned. “You’ve been mostly unconscious for two days. They whipped you down to the bone. I’ve been giving you eight cups of healing water every day. You probably feel sore all over.”

Mato snorted. “I’d feel worse without it.”

“It is a very good thing the wisdoms took the seekers and left,” Ezhno said. “You have a rune in the middle of your back, between your shoulder blades.”

“What?”

“It is glowing, Mato. Pairs may glow. Single runes do not.”

“Really? What is it?”

“Shield.”

“Oh, that’s a good one.”

Ezhno patted his head. “I confess to feeling some jealousy. What did you ask for? I didn’t know you could get a rune on your body.”

“I asked for the heart to do what must be done.”

Ezhno let out a long, low whistle. “Well done, Mato. You must have some real challenges coming, if the Great Lady thinks you need this. She didn’t just give you the rune.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is a glyph painted on your chest.”

“How do we etch it?” Mato asked.

“Maybe just cut it with a knife. Maybe a tattoo. I hope we don’t need to go all the way to the bone.”

Mato grimaced. “Let's try the cutting method first. If it doesn’t work, we can try the tattoo.”

* * *

Cutting the glyph was hard. Not only did it hurt, it was in the middle of his chest. He had to look at a tiny mirror so he could be sure the blade was positioned correctly.

The sequence they worked out was, tell Ezhno to tilt the mirror to the right, no too far, no a bit to the left. Now up. Cut. Wipe blood away. Set up for next cut, wipe blood away, argue about mirror placement, wipe blood away, cut.

When the final segment was finished, the glyph started glowing with bright, sky-blue light.

“The rune on your back is brighter now. It’s a transcendent pair, Mato. I’ve never seen a transcendent pair. If Sotsona has any, he keeps them covered. If you keep this up, I’m going to be your apprentice by the time we get home.”

“I don’t need you because you’re powerful, Ezhno. I need you because of your experience.”

“Did you just call me a crippled old man?”

“Absolutely not. I’ve seen you run and jump. You’re definitely not crippled.”

“In my day, apprentices had respect,” Ezhno said. “Now try using your new pairing.”

Mato walked away from Ezhno and their gear, then pulled through the shield rune. A shimmering shield appeared in front of him, as tall and wide as he was.

“Whoa. That was so much easier than the warrior rune.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Ezhno said. “You don’t have any idea what all of its effects are. Transcendent pairs always have extras.”