Tau leapt back, fear lending him speed, and the hatchet’s blade hissed past his kneecap, a hairsbreadth from taking his leg off at the calf. Blood pumping and desperate to shift the fight’s momentum in his favor, Tau attacked. He stabbed out with his blade, aiming for the heart, and, as he’d been taught, kept his eye on the target, ready to react when the hedena dodged.
The collision, then, was a surprise. Tau’s blade plunged from tip to hilt, into and through his opponent’s chest. The savage had made no move to avoid the sword’s point at all.
Tau didn’t understand. The lunge had been obvious. It wasn’t a serious killing blow. Anyone with decent training would have avoided it.
He looked into the face of the person he’d stabbed. The woman’s eyes were big and wide, staring off at something in the distance. Her mouth, full-lipped, formed a gentle O, and the raider’s hair, dreaded by lack of care, hung down her scarred face.
Tau pulled back in revulsion, but his blade wouldn’t come free. The woman—or girl; he couldn’t tell—cried out as the bronze ripped her insides.
She reached for Tau, perhaps to hold him close, hoping to halt the blade’s bitter exit, and her fingers, bloody already, touched his face. She tried to speak, lips flecked with spittle, but her life ran its course, and she sighed before the weight of her lifeless body pulled Tau to the ground.
“Tau!” Jabari’s voice sounded far away. “Are you hurt?”
“No… I—I hurt her, I think,” Tau heard himself say.
“Get up. More are coming. We have to make it to the rest of our men,” Jabari said. “Is that your blood?”
“Blood?”
“Your face.”
Jabari and the woman and child were staring at him. The two hedeni men who had faced Jabari were dead.
“It’s not me,” Tau told them. “Not my blood.”
“We have to go,” said Jabari.
Tau nodded, struggled to jerk his blade free from the hedena woman’s body, took a step, doubled over, and retched. Nothing came up. He retched again, his stomach still heaving when he forced himself upright. The child was staring at him. He wiped his mouth with the back of his blood-streaked hand. “Fine,” he said. “I’m fine.”
Jabari looked Tau over and began moving. “We have to go.”
Tau followed, looking back once. The woman he’d fought lay in the mud like a broken doll. He’d never killed someone. He was shaking. He’d never—
“This way,” said Jabari as the four of them weaved between huts and buildings, doing their best to avoid the fighting all around them.
Jabari was heading toward the barricade that the Ihagu had set up at the edge of the hamlet’s central circle. They’d used overturned wagons, tables, even broken-down doors to block the paths that led to it. They were making a stand. They wouldn’t last. There were too many hedeni.
“In here!” Jabari shoved the woman, who had picked up and was carrying the child, through the open door of a hut. He dashed in after her and Tau was right behind.
The hut was far larger than the one Tau shared with his father. It must belong to a High Harvester. Maybe even Berko, he thought, as the first hedena warrior burst through the doorway.
The man, hatchet out, made for Jabari. He didn’t see Tau and Tau sliced at him, cutting into his arm. Hollering in pain, the raider stumbled into the nearest wall, and Jabari stabbed him in the gut.
The next hedena through the door had a spear. It was a woman. Tau knew the hedeni fought women alongside men. He knew it like he knew he had ten toes, but seeing a second female fighter gave him pause.
He should attack. He didn’t. She thrust her spear at him and it would have taken out his throat if Jabari hadn’t reacted, knocking it from her hands.
She drew a dagger from her belt. Tau remained rooted, noticing instead that she wore no armor. She had on an earth-toned wrap that covered her breasts and looped round her back, where it dove into loose and flowing pants. She was sandaled and her hands were bangled, the golden metal bouncing on slim wrists as she flicked her dagger at Jabari.
Jabari danced back. She came forward and Tau saw his chance. He was behind her. He just had to kill her.
On weak knees, Tau stepped forward and swung his sword as hard as he could, sending the flat of his blade hammering into the side of her head, knocking her down. Jabari followed up. He kicked the dagger from her hand and leapt on her, pressing his sword to her neck.
“You speak Empiric?” Jabari snarled. “How many ships did you land on our shores? How many raiders?” He pressed the point of his sword into her neck, drawing blood. “Speak or die!”
She looked frightened but spat in Jabari’s face, closed her eyes, and began to spasm. Jabari scurried back, making distance, as her skin, already scarred by the Goddess’s curse, bubbled and boiled. Blood erupted from her nose, ears, mouth, and eyes, and she began to scream and scream and scream. Then, like a candle blown, her life was gone, snuffed out.
The Lesser woman let out a choked gasp and turned away, holding the child closer. The child was crying. Jabari was still as stone, watching the dead savage with wide eyes.
He turned to Tau, mouth open, brow furrowed. “Demon-death,” he said. “Your father told us it’s what they do when captured. I didn’t believe it.”
Tau could think of nothing worth saying.
Jabari stood, wiped the savage’s spit from his face, and stumbled away, using the wall for support. Tau, along with the woman and child, followed. Jabari bashed out a shuttered window at the back of the building and they crawled out of it, emerging in the middle of a circle of tightly packed homes.
In front of them was a storage barn, and they were still a hundred strides from the Ihagu’s barricade. Jabari tried the barn’s door. They hadn’t been seen and could go through the long building. With luck, they’d come out a short run from the barricade and the rest of their people. Jabari broke the door’s lock and they went in.
The storage barn was large, but its interior was tight, crammed with shelves, most empty. That was bad. It was almost Harvest, and if the storehouse was any indication, the Omehi would have trouble feeding their people.
As they slunk through, Tau began to have trouble breathing.
“What are you doing?” Jabari asked.
He couldn’t stop panting and felt dizzy. “Too close,” he said about the shelves and walls.
“What?”
Tau squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t help and he couldn’t get enough air. He stopped moving, unable to keep going, when a cool hand slipped into his.
“It’s a few more steps,” the Lesser woman told him. “Keep your eyes closed. I’ll guide you.”
Tau nodded and stumbled after her.
“Ready?” asked Jabari.
Tau, still nauseous, opened an eye. They’d walked the length of the storehouse and were at its front doors. “Hurry,” he said, wanting nothing more than to be outside.
“If the Goddess wills, we’ll have a clear run for the barricade,” Jabari said. “We make it there and we’re safe.”
Tau wasn’t sure anywhere in Daba could be called safe. He’d seen how many hedeni were out there.
“Ready?” Jabari asked again.