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It inched further, and its sharp tip pressed ever so gently, releasing a single drop of blood.
Then it retreated at Kaxim’s growl, whistling back toward the Krypós eagle, who plucked it from mid-air.
‘Yield?’ Kaxim murmured with a lazy drawl.
Fokk, Killen thought. This was going to be more freakin’ tough than he’d imagined.
Twas clear that Kaxim and, indeed, many of the elite Sab?r Hawks had skills beyond his comprehension.
Killen had only pushed for the contest to test himself, and with a bitter twist of his mouth, he gave himself a fail.
Killen glanced up as Kaxim’s mind voice spoke. We Sab?r Hawks are trained to kill and drilled by iron discipline. Into a regiment of fearless militants who serve as the Sab?r spearhead for every significant battle we engage in.
You don’t say, Killen grumbled.
I do say. Our motto is ‘Death by Sab?r’, where our existence depends on being cut down or cutting down the enemy. We’ve spent decades training, sparring and sky-fighting. We’re battle-hardened warriors, the opposite of your self-taught knowledge, making you easy prey for our serrated sab?r blades. Thank fokk we’re on your side Kíríga. The question is, what will you do about the skills that you lack?
Although this was not news to Killen, the words jarred him as his essence teetered and tumbled from its perch of confidence.
Even as his inner eye peeled back to the hereafter, it showed him how he was like a newborn when pitted against the finesse of Katánian warriors trained to control body, mind, soul and íkan from infancy.
Killen gazed out to the ebony mountain beyond. Its inky marble crevices and massive granite boulders towered over the landscape, black and barren, in stark contrast to the semi-desert below.
His hawkstone thrummed as it reached a tendril out towards the summit like it had since he’d landed on Katáne.
He fought off a rush of old dark power memories that threatened to pour down from its peaks, shaking off the lure of effortless power and easy skill.
He pulled back his hood with a growl and jerked his chin at Kaxim.
Bowing his head, he conceded, perspiration rolling down his face and upper arms, wariness visible in the slow fold of his wings.
‘I yield,’ he rasped, floating to the ground.
As did Kaxim, who was swamped with cheers and back-thumping hugs from his fellow Sab?r Hawks and even the kujaas, in awe of his prowess.
Killen took in the scene, his breath hitching.
An arm wrapped around his shoulders, and he turned to see Kione watching him with a half smile. ‘Your ego bruised, Killen of kiji Sable?’
Killen narrowed his eyes at the man and, with a nod, drew him away from the other warriors.
‘I’m months away from being ready, that’s clear,’ he rasped. ‘It’ll take ages to learn what you know. Not in time to make a dent in this war, let alone lead our outnumbered army.’
Kaxim swooped in, coming to a stop before the pair. ‘If you think you’re too unimportant to make a difference,’ Killen’s First Armourer drawled, loping over, ‘then try sleeping on the edge of a dune with sand flies.’
‘Fokk off,’ Killen growled. ‘On a serious note, though, you schooled me. My pride’s taken a hit, I’ll have to admit.’
‘Your humility is your weapon,’ Kione interjected. ‘Realising you need training is a crucial step. It’s the cocky warriors who get cut down first. However, very few retain any swagger in battle when they realise how difficult it is to stay alive. That’s when they give in to full-blown panic – some will even abandon the fight and take to the hills.’
Killen sucked his teeth at the picture Kione painted. ‘Not my style, brother.’
‘You won’t know what you’ll do until you’re in the thick of it. When you face your greatest enemy, your terror, remember this: the warrior who faces his fear and sacrifices his life for the sake of those he loves wins the pre-eminent accolade. Like Khiron, the magnificent Eagle Commander, said, ‘The good were worthy of note because they battled, and that battle was a great story.’
‘I need fokkin’ good training from a master.’ Killen’s jaw was tight. ‘You two up for it?’
Both men exchanged a look. ‘Nada,’ Kaxim said. ‘Our calling is to protect you, not to teach you how to battle. While you can out-soar most, you require more expert guidance on the art of blades and sab?r koya control.’
‘I can learn the íkan from you and train my metanoids myself,’ Killen insisted.
