Second Guard (26 page)

At the end of the first night, the caravan made camp near the ruins of an ancient temple. As the light faded into the western mountains, Tali, Chey, and Zarif decided to climb the temple’s
crumbling stone steps to see the view. They did not talk during their ascent, for it seemed a sacred place of old Tequende, before the Time of Queens. Tali’s foot slipped once as some of the
rock crumbled beneath her boot, but she caught herself with her hands. Near the top, it felt more like climbing up a rock face than walking up stairs, and Tali’s heart pounded as she reached
the summit. The air seemed even thinner at the top, and she took deep breaths to fill her lungs.

Green land rolled out as far as the eye could see. In the distance on all sides sat the Condor Mountains, a ring protecting the realm from the rest of the world. No place can be as beautiful as
this, decided Tali. She thought about the ancient Tequendians who had turned these cool highlands into a realm of peace and industry, a place that a wise man like Saavedra, who had traveled the
world over, would seek out and choose to call home. She felt a shiver run down her back, a tremble of both pride and humility, and she knew that she would fight anyone, anything, to keep Tequende
and her people safe.

After another long day in the saddle and a night spent by the road, they saw the tent city appear before them as they came around a large bend in the Paseo. The great city of Fugaza rose beyond
its high stone walls, forbidding and cold, or at least it seemed so to Tali. She longed to catch a glimpse of the Queen’s Palace, with its soaring bridge across the Magda River, but it lay
hidden behind the walls.

Tali turned her attention to the makeshift city of amber-colored tents spread before her. A huge arena sat at its center, as impressive as the Alcazar and almost as large. Carved out of
limestone and marble, its pale white and gray facade offered seating for thousands of onlookers. Here the Clash of Warriors would take place, well away from the capital city. In the distance, Tali
noticed several larger tents of crimson set apart and surrounded by guards.

Tali pointed them out to Zarif and Chey. “Are those for the Queen?”

Zarif nodded. “And the princess as well. They return to their palace grounds in the evenings, but spend all the days of the Clash here, receiving guests and entertaining the
victors.”

“So that’s where we must deliver Saavedra’s letter,” Tali said, trying not to sound as intimidated as she felt. She wondered whether the Queen or the princess would be
attending the pledge exhibition battles, but quickly pushed the thought away. No need to make herself any more nervous than she already was.

“You’re sure your family will not attend the Clash, Zarif?” asked Chey.

“Certainly not,” Zarif answered, with an amused laugh. “They will lock themselves inside with books and bottles of wine, avoiding all this madness,” he said, gesturing to
the Sun Guilders setting up stalls and booths wherever they could find an empty patch of land.

“How could they not want to be a part of all
this
?” Tali teased, sweeping her hand out like an actor on stage.

Zarif snorted. “We Moon Guilders are a pretentious lot, I know.”

Tali smiled. “You said it, not me,” she answered in jest, though she did wonder if the Moon Guilders of the capital did indeed look down their noses at the Sun Guild merchants,
perhaps finding them garish and a bit too loud. To Tali, it looked like a festival day. There were bands of musicians, magic peddlers, and lost ladies, all vying for the coin of thousands who
gathered to watch the famed warriors of the realm.

Moon Guilders, Tali thought, ought to imbibe a bit of fun now and then. She slid from her horse, determined to show her friends how it was done.

Tali recognized many of the Sun Guild merchants who lined the streets of the tent city and along Fugaza’s high walls. Stepping out of their booths, they hugged and patted
her and held her at arm’s length, as if they had not seen her for years. The motherless twins of Alondro Sanchez were favorites in the extended family of Tequende’s traders, and now
each merchant tried to outdo the next to spoil Tali with attention. A few seemed surprised by her companions, especially Chey, but they recovered quickly and offered all three a bounty of food and
drink, refusing payment.

And how they feasted! Around every corner they found irresistible temptations: roast duck with sweet syrup crackled in bite-size portions; pork strips wrapped around honeymelon and served on a
stick; roast chicken rolled in ground nuts and herbs, then fried crisp in butter; bowls made of fried dough, filled with sugared berries and topped with sweet cream; and everything washed down with
all the sweetwater and lemon-song they could hold.

“Never have I ever eaten so much in my life,” Chey said, licking the sugar from his fingers one at a time.

“I feel a stone heavier,” Zarif agreed, patting his stomach. “My horse may well kick me off tomorrow.”

Chey laughed. “Perhaps from now on we should eat at the pledge tent, so we don’t waddle out for our battles.”

“Shall we go watch the exhibition fights?” Zarif asked, brushing crumbs off his pledge uniform.

“Yes,” Tali said. “I want to study the fighting form of the guards before I meet one.”

The pledges and guards not fighting all sat together in one part of the arena while the citizenry of Tequende took up the rest of the seats. Tali sat between her friends and shielded her eyes
from the midday sun. The white stone benches were warm to the touch but not unbearable. The Queen and her cousin, Princess Xiomara, sat in a covered dais that jutted out slightly into the battle
ring itself. A red awning protected them from the harsh sun and four sentries stood at each corner. All one hundred centurios, or at least it seemed so to Tali, sat around the Queen’s dais as
a natural defensive barrier, and also to catch the best view of their troops who battled below.

“Which of the Alcazar centurios do you think is the best teacher?” Zarif asked. Tali exchanged an amused look with Chey. Did every thought that came to Zarif’s mind arrive as a
question?

“Each has strengths and weaknesses,” Chey mused, ever the balanced judge.

Tali did not hesitate with her response. “I prefer Saraky’s quiet, calm approach to training. He never yells when we’ve done something wrong; he demonstrates instead. He
teaches by example, not punishment. And you, Zarif?”

“I’ve found Jaden’s leadership and instruction to be impressive for one so young,” Zarif said, surprising Tali. “He forces us to come to conclusions on our
own…and he never lets us forget the purpose of our training.”

“Jessa is harsh but always fair,” Chey added, “and Abelino knows horses better than anyone I’ve ever met. So I suppose they’re all the best in their own way, in
their own area of expertise.”

Tali and Zarif nodded their agreement, and silence fell between them once again. The centurios would watch the guards compete during the first days of the Clash, and then choose the best to
compete against during the final rounds.

“It would be hard to choose the best to fight against you,” Chey said, giving words to Tali’s same thoughts.

“Yes, but these battles reveal who excels among the Second Guard. As a centurio, you would want to know whom to have in your legion,” Zarif said, pointing to one of the weaponry
spars that had just ended. A heavily armored guard stepped on the breastplate of the other, signaling victory.

“And I suppose a centurio who cannot defeat one of his own should no longer be one,” Chey said.

“True,” Zarif agreed, “but it
would
be humbling to go down in front of the good Queen Twenty-two and her lovely cousin.”

“I had heard the Queen was a beauty, but I never imagined she would be so…enchanting,” Chey said, surprising Tali with his admission.

Zarif smiled and looked up at the dais. “It is the young Xiomara with her hair of night and smoky eyes who is the enchantress, my friend.”

“I believe you’re right,” said Chey, admiring the princess from afar. “Do you think she will see us soon?” On their way to the arena they had stopped by the crimson
tents to request an audience with the princess. There the royal sentry, lifting his eyebrows upon seeing the Queen’s Key in the possession of three lowly pledges, had promised to summon them
at Xiomara’s behest before the Clash ended.

“If we’re lucky, I suppose, though she will be quite busy these next few days between all of the Clash events and official guests,” replied Zarif. “I imagine all of the
centurios will want to pay their respects to both her and the Queen, and can you blame them?”

“You two sound like lovesick packhounds, baying at the moon,” Tali teased, jabbing them both with her elbows. Who
wouldn’t
look lovely with half the realm attending to
your every whim and dozens of expensive gowns to choose from, all sewn to emphasize your best attributes? Tali forced herself to concentrate on the arena in front of her, ignoring the grins and
raised eyebrows the boys exchanged across her.

As the day wore on, they watched twenty or more battles, evaluating everything they saw. They discussed the different techniques and the way a particular guard could turn a battle around with
just a few moves. The seasoned guards made combat look inevitable and logical instead of the chaos Tali often felt inside the ring. She realized how instructive it was to sit and observe the
battles of real guards for once instead of the fumbling attempts of pledges.

“Let us go practice what we’ve seen,” she urged her friends as dusk began to settle over the mountains. “I need to move after all this sitting.”

Zarif nodded. “Best to apply what we’ve learned before we’ve forgotten it.”

For the rest of the evening they resisted the call of sweetmeats and treats offered by the merchant stalls, intent on their drills. When the moon came up, Tali realized how hungry and tired she
was. They decided to share a simple meal at the pledge tent and then be off to bed. Tali would be first on the docket the next morning.

T
ali faced her opponent while the Sun God was still yawning, a few pale streaks of light on the horizon. The stands sat half empty this early in
the morning, and much to Tali’s relief, the Queen’s dais remained unoccupied. The other eight pledges were in attendance, however, and a few dozen guards. Tali had prepared herself for
the most likely outcome of her exhibition battle: a quick, humiliating lesson served up in less than a few minutes. Still, she reminded herself, it is an honor to fight here at all.

She bowed to Saraky, who stood on the outskirts of the ring, and was rewarded by a reassuring nod from the centurio. Then she turned to her opponent. The guard stood a head taller than Tali and
his arms rippled with muscles. At that moment, the crowd began to murmur as Princess Xiomara took her seat in the dais. And now I shall have a royal witness to my defeat, Tali thought, taking a
long draw of breath. She and her opponent bowed to the princess and then to each other. It was on.

The guard made the first move, lunging at Tali while striking down with his right arm. He clipped Tali’s shoulder as she moved into the strike and tried to grab his arm. She missed. The
guard clutched Tali by the elbow and cleanly flipped her on her back. Before he could press her to the dust with his foot, she somersaulted backward and popped back up to her feet. Her opponent
seemed surprised by her quick recovery, obviously expecting a victory in one move. It will not be so, Tali thought. I will not be stepped on so easily.

Tali took two steps, then hit the guard with a sideswipe to his knee with her left foot. His balance cut, he tilted toward the ground but caught himself with his hand. He used the momentum to
twist away from Tali’s attack and quickly righted himself, counterattacking with a strike at the tender spot between Tali’s shoulder and neck. Tali twisted into his body and drove her
fist into his stomach, using her whole weight to do so.