Rae and Asim met in the center of the circle and struck their asas together three times with the beat.
Clack! Clack! Clack!
“Begin,” said Asim.
The amusement in Asim’s eyes set Rae’s fury aflame. With a guttural cry, Rae spun away, sweeping her asa into a low arc to strike at Asim’s knees. But Asim was ready for her, nimbly dodging the attack and lunging forward, thrusting his weapon underher guard. It struck her full in the chest and took her breath away.
Gasping and enraged, Rae lunged wildly, slicing her asa through the air toward Asim’s shoulder, but he easily parried it away and gave her a smack on the back for her trouble.
Rae sucked her teeth as her wounds sizzled with pain. The crowd of men laughed and hooted, spurring on the fight. Rae thought Asim would laugh with them, but his eyes never left hers.
“Focus, Ay!” Omari called out. “He’s trying to rile you up—don’t take the bait!”
Rae was about to ignore him like she usually did, when she remembered all the fights she’d lost, not because she wasn’t good enough, but because she’d lost her temper. Those fights had cost her a few baubles. Losing this one would cost considerably more.
She felt the weight of her father’s knife at her hip. When she turned ten he’d taught her how to use it, and pointed out the wedjat eye painted on its hilt. “You must treat your weapon with respect,” he’d said. “For just as Ra’s light can both create and destroy, so can the blade be used for good and for ill. It can cut you as easily as it can your enemy.”
Rae felt the familiar rage burning through her veins, urging her on as she circled Asim, who hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Use your rage, she told herself.Don’t let it use you.
So instead of allowing her fury to overtake her, she closed her eyes and felt its power within her.
“What are you doing?” Omari shouted. “Are you out of your mind?!”
But Rae barely heard him. She focused on the weight of the asa in her hands, and the sensation of Asim moving near her, his shadow passing over hers as they continued to circle each other. In the darkness, she could feel the way their bodies made curving, sinuous ripples in the cool night air, which was scented with smoke, honey, and wine.
She felt a disturbance in those ripples. Asim was about to attack.
She opened her eyes and sidestepped as Asim’s asa came slashing down toward her. His stick hit the ground, and Rae lunged to strike at her opponent’s shoulder. The hit was clean and took Asim totally by surprise.
The crowd shouted in dismay, and Rae smiled. Asim recovered quickly and moved around her with greater caution. His casual amusement was replaced with intensity. The crowd sensed a change between them and quieted, though they kept the steady drumbeat going.
Rae matched her breath with Asim’s, watching his chest rise and fall, rise and fall. And when she saw that quick intake, saw his muscles grow taut and his eyes narrow, she moved in parallel with him, curving her body away to allow his asa to pass by her. They moved that way together for several minutes, their feet throwing up clouds of sand, in a dance that was both elegant and brutal.
Rae landed several more strikes, but nothing that made Asim pause, and she was getting tired. Despite her improvement, Asim clearly had superior strength and technique, and fatigue was making her sloppy. After a frenzied exchange of blows, Asim seemed ready to thrust his weapon toward her, so Rae dodged away. But his attack was merely a feint, and as soon as she was exposed, he whirled, sweeping his asa into another blow to her back.
Her wounds reopened on impact.
A white-hot bolt of pain was followed by a gush of warmth beneath her bandages. She tried to raise her asa once more, but it was too much. Every movement caused her skin to feel like it was ripping apart. Because it was.
The world spun, and she fell to her knees.
Omari was next to her in an instant, laying her gently on her side until her dizziness passed.
Asim looked bewildered, his asa forgotten. “I don’t understand,” he said, and gestured at the bloodstains spreading across the back of her tunic. “I didn’t hit her that hard.”
“You didn’t,” Omari said. “Someone else did. Yesterday morning.”
Asim dropped to one knee next to them.
“May I see?” he asked Rae, his voice soft.
I’ve already lost, Rae thought miserably.Why not?She nodded.
Gingerly, Asim pulled her tunic aside and examined the bloody bandages covering her back. He grimaced and got back to his feet. “Who did this to you?”
“The nomarch,” Rae replied. Her teeth chattered with sudden cold.
