The Skull Throne. Peter Brett V.

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ apt to use cutting words, or even sharusahk.

      The argument was between two older girls, Jaia and Selthe. They seemed ready to come to blows, but both glanced first to Amanvah, seeking favour.

      Amanvah turned her back on them, giving them permission to fight. ‘I see nothing.’

      The other Betrothed did the same, repeating the words and turning their backs until the older girls faced each other alone.

      Who will take the match? Ashia’s fingers asked.

      Selthe, Sikvah answered without hesitation. It is said she will soon finish her dice and take the white.

      She will lose, and badly, Ashia disagreed.

      Her form is strong, Shanvah noted. Micha and Jarvah did not comment, but they followed the conversation with their eyes.

      There is fear in her eyes, Ashia said. Indeed, Selthe took a step back as Jaia moved in. A moment later, Selthe’s head was being held under the water. Jaia kept her there until Selthe ceased struggling and slapped her submission on the surface of the pool. Jaia pushed her farther under, then let go and took a step back. Selthe rose with a splash, gasping for air.

      Weak lungs, too, Ashia said. She was barely under the water a full minute.

      ‘I see your fingers chattering, Sharum dogs!’ Amanvah’s cry snapped their heads up. The girl strode angrily their way, several other Betrothed at her back.

      ‘Behind me, little cousins,’ Ashia said softly as Amanvah approached. ‘Eyes down. This is not your fight.’ The girls complied as Ashia raised her gaze to meet Amanvah’s. The act seemed to double the younger girl’s ire as she pulled up, close enough to reach out and touch.

      The kill zone, Enkido’s fingers had called the space between them.

      ‘You saw nothing,’ Amanvah said. ‘Say it, nie’Sharum’ting.’

      Ashia shook her head. ‘The large fountain is not worth fighting over, cousin, but nothing you can do will make me lie to my master, much less the dama’ting. I will not volunteer the information, but if asked, I will tell the truth.’

      Amanvah’s nostrils flared. ‘And what is that?’

      ‘That the nie’dama’ting lack discipline,’ Ashia said. ‘That you call one another sister but do not know the meaning of the word, bickering and fighting like khaffit.’ She spat in the bath, and the other girls gasped. ‘And your sharusahk is pathetic.’

      Amanvah’s eyes flicked to her target an instant before she struck, but it was more than enough for Ashia to block and plot her next three blows. The Betrothed spent two hours each day studying sharusahk. Ashia and her cousins spent twenty, and the difference had come to tell.

      Ashia could have put Amanvah under the water as easily as Jaia did Selthe, but she wanted the beating to last, as had the one Amanvah delivered on their second day in the palace.

      Two knuckles into the armpit, and Amanvah howled with pain. A chop to the throat cut off the sound, and Amanvah’s eyes bulged as her lungs seized. The heel of Ashia’s hand to her forehead left Amanvah stunned as the force of the blow knocked her backward into the water.

      Ashia could have continued the beating, but she stayed her hand as Amanvah rose choking to her knees, coughing out bathwater. ‘If you walk away now, I will not have to tell the dama’ting you are fools, as well.’

      It was a goad, of course, forcing Amanvah to willingly prolong the beating, lest she appear weak in front of the other nie’dama’ting.

      The other girls held their collective breath as Amanvah slowly got to her feet, water dripping from her skin. Her eyes promised murder, but they also told Ashia where she would strike next.

      The eyes tell all, Enkido’s fingers had said. Ashia stood calmly, breathing in steady rhythm, her guard low, inviting the attack.

      Amanvah was more cautious now, keeping her guard in place and using feints to set up her true attacks.

      It was all to no avail. Ashia could see the moves before Amanvah even made them, blocking a series of blows without retaliating, simply to show the ease of it.

      Up to their thighs in water, Ashia kept her feet planted, blocking and dodging with her upper body alone, but Amanvah needed her feet. It made her slow, and she soon began to breathe hard.

      Ashia shook her head. ‘You Betrothed are soft, cousin. This lesson was overdue.’

      Amanvah glared at her with open hatred. Wrapped in the soft cocoon of her breath, Ashia was calm, but she put a smile on her lips, if only to goad her cousin further. She already knew what Amanvah was planning, though she wanted to believe the girl was not so stupid as to actually attempt it.

      But in her desperation, Amanvah took the bait, delivering a series of feints before trying a kick.

      Her legs already tired and underwater, the kick was pathetically slow. Amanvah was counting on surprise, but even that would not have been enough. Ashia caught her ankle, yanking the leg upward.

      ‘One stupid enough to kick in water does not deserve the use of their leg.’ She struck hard, driving her stiffened fingers hard into a precise point on Amanvah’s thigh. Amanvah screamed from the pain, and then the leg went limp in Ashia’s hand.

      Ashia spun her as she fell, easily slipping into a submission hold as she held Amanvah under.

      Jaia tried to intercede, but Shanvah moved in without a word, striking two quick blows that collapsed the older girl’s legs. She fell to the water, thrashing to keep her head above the surface. Selthe could have stepped in to help her, but she and the other nie’dama’ting stood frozen in place. Sikvah, Micha, and Jarvah lined up next to Shanvah, blocking their path to the combatants.

      Amanvah thrashed at first, and then went still. Ashia waited for her to slap the surface of the water in submission, but to her credit, the girl never did. She knew she was the Deliverer’s daughter, and even Ashia would not dare kill her in front of everyone.

      She pulled Amanvah’s head free of the water, letting her gasp a breath.

      ‘Sharum blood of the Deliverer. Say it.’

      The girl looked at her in fury, spitting in Ashia’s face.

      Ashia did not let her draw another breath before putting her back under, twisting her arm painfully for long moments.

      ‘Sharum blood,’ Ashia said, pulling her into the air. ‘Everam’s spear sisters. Say it.’ Amanvah shook her head wildly as she gasped and thrashed, so Ashia put her under again.

      This time she waited long minutes, her hands in tune with Amanvah’s body. The muscles tensed one last time before consciousness was lost. When she felt it, she pulled Amanvah out into the air a third time, leaning in close.

      ‘There is no hora magic in the bath, cousin. No dama’ting, no Enkido. There is only sharusahk. We can do this every day if you wish.’

      Amanvah СКАЧАТЬ