King of Lions, Page 3

  “Every time,” he said.

  “How do you cope with it? I’ve killed before tonight, three of my ten opponents. Every time, after the victory high wears off, I feel sort of empty for a few days. It gets easier each time, but never easy enough.”

  Keaton stared at the ceiling, watched a small lizard skitter across the stone, past the flowing white curtains, and out the window.

  “We’re not in the Circuit because we want to be,” he said. “We’re in the Circuit because we need to be. Some people are born with violence in them, and that violence will come out one way or another. The ring gives us a place to use that constructively. We show people courage and how to go to the end of their lives with honor. We show them that hard work pays off.”

  Outside, a coyote howled from somewhere out on the dunes.

  “Terra was a tough woman,” Rosetta said.

  Keaton put his arm around her. “It was a good fight.”

  ~

  The next five days were hell. Keaton woke early each morning to train with his camp, then worked late into the night sparring with Rosetta on the cliff by the lake. Usually, he was so tired by the end of the day that he sent Rosetta to sleep in her apartment instead of staying over. By the end of the first week, Keaton’s technique was sharpening back up, but he was frequently exhausted from getting so little sleep and overtraining. If Rosetta ever asked him if he was okay, he would say he was fine, that he was the King of Lions and could take care of himself.

  Keaton felt bad breaking his word to Emerick, but this was a matter of Rosetta surviving her fight or not. Emerick would have to understand.

  In his sessions with Rosetta, they focused on the Queen of Foxes’ fighting style. The Queen’s real name was Eroshi, a black-skinned woman with a long, slender physique that gave her an incredible reach advantage in the ring. She was a Mau Oolau stylist, with vicious Atonement locks, who used the dual hand blade configuration. She would be strong and unorthodox in a way Rosetta had never experienced, and even Keaton was having a difficult time emulating the Queen’s style.

  He went to the Dome library after the first week to study Queen Eroshi’s public fight notations—a move-by-move record of every fight she had ever had, written in shorthand code. Keaton was familiar with Eroshi’s work, but an in-depth study of her fights painted an ugly picture. Like Rosetta, Eroshi liked to bleed out opponents. But unlike most of Rosetta’s opponents, the Order hadn’t been able to save the women that faced Eroshi. By the time she finished her fights, her opponents were already battered and half-dead on their feet from blood loss. When they started to slow down, she would go for the kill, slitting the vessels on the sides of their necks. The Order could do a lot using the Current, but they couldn’t make a dead body make blood.

  Rosetta could still beat the Queen of Foxes—it wasn’t impossible—but she would need to develop her skills significantly. Abandoning Rosetta’s training now would be like killing her himself.

  On his way back to his training camp, Keaton passed Emerick on the street. Emerick gave him a stare that was heavy with sadness and disappointment. There was no hiding from that look, no brushing it off.

  Keaton walked over to Emerick and put out his hand to shake. Emerick looked at it uncertainly.

  “She’ll die if I don’t help her,” Keaton said. “Please understand.”

  “It’s you or her, right?” Emerick said. “Well, I think that sucks.”

  “Shake my hand, Emerick. We’re brothers, remember?”

  Emerick shook it. “Yeah, we’re brothers. And brothers don’t let each other die.”

  “Do they let the women they love die?”

  “If she’s what’s important to you, then back down. Give Mantis your crown and retire. You’re planning to retire in a year or two anyway.”

  Keaton laughed bitterly. “I can’t do that. You know I can’t.”

  “I did. And now I have a family and a nice home and I get to eat whatever I want and read stories to my girls at bedtime and put my wife’s legs in the air anytime the mood strikes us. The crown is just a crown.”

  “It’s not that simple!”

  Keaton punched a nearby wooden sign advertising fresh melons, and broke it.

  “That’s great,” Emerick said. “Break your own hand. Mantis will love that.”

  Keaton growled. “I am so sick of thinking about Mantis. But if I give him the crown, he’ll just sit at the top of Lion Class and cut the heads off the guys who come for his title. If I don’t stop him, nobody else will be able to, not for a long time, maybe never.”

  “How is that any different from what you’ve been doing? Eight consecutive title defenses, Keaton.”

  “It’s different. I’m not sure how, but it is. I’m different.”

  “Just mull it over, brother. Save your girl if you must, but don’t throw your life away.”

  “I can beat him.”

  Emerick said nothing, but the shine in his eyes spoke volumes. In Emerick’s mind, Keaton realized, he was already dead.

  ~

  For the rest of the day, Keaton pushed himself harder in training than he ever had. He sent three sparring partners home with injuries and broke half a dozen training swords. He felt strong, but tired. He just wasn’t as young as he used to be, didn’t have the endless stamina he had had as a younger man. Worse yet, Rosetta was still expecting to spar with him on the cliffs later in the night, and he would have very little to give her.

  When he arrived at the cliffs, however, Rosetta was nowhere to be found. He waited for perhaps an hour, watching the Blue Pilikia skitter back and forth on the shore of the lake down below. He thought about his career, about retirement, and even briefly considered asking Rosetta to bow out of her fight.

  He quickly discarded the thought. Rosetta was younger than he was by a decade, and still had a bright—if uncertain—future as a swordswoman ahead of her. Keaton had come from a wealthy church family, while Rosetta had grown up in the lower class districts. As a result, she was a fiercely independent person. If he suggested she step down for her safety, she would be all the more motivated to fight, and would do it without his help just to show him she could. For him, fighting was a discipline and a way of life. For her, it was life. It was not just about surviving, but thriving. He couldn’t take that away from her.

  When the crescent moon rose high into the sky, hanging like a crooked smile in the violet darkness, Keaton saddled his Bralla and rode home.

  ~

  When Keaton arrived at his house, he found the front door unlatched. It swung slowly back and forth in the breeze, opening and closing on the still, dark recesses of the house.

  Keaton drew his sword and checked the lock. It didn’t appear to have been forced. He moved into the shadows, his time on the Angamorian Academy Guard coming back to him. He kept his back to things, advanced methodically, expecting ambush from every side.

  He found blood in the hall, a handful of drops leading toward the bedroom. His stomach threatened to do flips, and he willed it to obey him. He took a deep breath and sidled around the corner.

  Rosetta was balled up in the corner behind the bed. The white curtains wafted around her, hovering like ghosts. Keaton ran to her side.

  “Rosetta, what happened?”

  She looked up at him with wide, haunted eyes. Bruises lined her face and arms, and blood dripped from her nose. There was a peculiar expression on her face, as if she couldn’t be certain the man standing in front of her—Keaton—wasn’t an enemy. She was holding her sword and shield as if to defend herself, but she didn’t hold them like a swordswoman now. She held them like a child.

  Keaton put his hands up and knelt in front of her.

  “Rosetta? Baby? What happened?”

  Rosetta stared for a moment longer, then threw aside her weapons and burst into tears. She wrapped her arms around Keaton’s neck and cried into his chest in great heaving sobs.

  “What happened? Who did this to you?”

  Keaton kn
ew the answer even before Rosetta managed to say the word between sobs.

  “Mantis.” She sobbed harder.

  Keaton held her close. His whole body felt numb, but there was another sensation too, rising from his toes toward his head. It felt like murder.

  “I’m sorry,” Rosetta said, regaining some composure. “I must look like such a girl right now.”

  “Tell me what happened,” Keaton said.

  Rosetta nodded, and wiped her nose. “He came into my training camp today. He said, ‘I hear you’re looking for sparring partners.’”

  Keaton shook his head. He already knew how this would go.

  “There were a lot of people watching,” Rosetta said. “I couldn’t exactly say no. And he sounded so, so—” She stopped and started to cry again. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Keaton said. “Go on, but only when you’re ready.”

  “He sounded sort of sincere,” Rosetta said. “Like he was just looking to, I don’t know, help me out. So we got into the ring.”

  Keaton could feel blood rushing to his face. When he got his hands on Mantis—

  “It was horrible,” Rosetta said. “He was using the heaviest swords in the gym. They were all dusty because nobody from Fox class can even lift them properly. I started to get nervous then, but he smiled like—like I was in on the joke, like we were putting on a show for the people watching. The bell rang and then he was—”

  Rosetta started crying again.

  “I don’t even remember parts of it,” she said. “I spent all these years training so I could, I don’t know, feel like I had some control over my life. After the first hit, all my training went out the window. Even if I blocked, it didn’t matter.”

  Rosetta showed Keaton her arms. There was a black bruise across her right palm where her sword had rested. Her shield arm was a giant purple splotch, like a continent on a map.

  “He kept saying, ‘Show me what you’ve learned. Show me what you’ve learned from the King of Lions.’”

  Keaton clenched his fists.

  “Some of the others got into the ring with us,” Rosetta said. “To try and stop him. It didn’t matter. He threw them off like they were nothing. Professional fighters, every one of us, and he made us look like children.”

  “Did the Guard bring him in?”

  “As far as they’re concerned, it was a sparring match that got out of hand.”

  Keaton stood up. “I’m going to take you to the Order.”

  “No!” Rosetta said. “They’ll pull my fight. Please.”

  “You’re hurt.”

  “Bruises, Keaton. I’m fine. I just—he sent me back to some bad places, places I thought I had left in the slums.”

  Keaton knelt and took her hand. “Even bruises need looked after.”

  “I can’t go to the Order,” Rosetta said. “Please. This fight with the Queen is everything to me.”

  Keaton shook his head. Rosetta sounded like a drunkard begging for booze, an addict scraping the streets for gold to buy her next fix—she sounded like he had, talking to Emerick. Hell, maybe Emerick had been right; maybe it was time to let all this go.

  But Keaton had at least one fight left in him, and this one wouldn’t take place in a ring.

  “I’m going to get Emerick,” Keaton said, trying to smile. “He makes good poultices, better than I could ever make. He’ll have you good as new in no time.”

  He helped Rosetta onto the bed, kissed her, and covered her with a blanket. He grabbed a leather bag from his closet containing his old guard armor, and headed for the door.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said. “And I’ll lock you in. Nobody is going to hurt you again.”

  “Keaton, don’t,” Rosetta said.

  “If you want me to leave the door open, I can.”

  “If you fight him, you’ll lose.”

  “I’m just going to get Emerick,” Keaton said, lying.

  Rosetta wasn’t deceived. “Damn it, Keaton, listen to me!” Her voice broke, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, cutting through the smudges of blood. “You’ll die.”

  Keaton threw his bag across the room. “Why doesn’t anyone believe I can beat him?!”

  “Because you can’t, Keaton!” Rosetta shouted. “I love you, and I respect the hell out of you, and I’m telling you, you can’t beat him. You can’t understand what he’s like unless you’ve stood in the ring with him.”

  “I’m the King of Lions, Rosetta!”

  “He’s different, Keaton. When he hit me, it felt like my body was going to shatter. His Riddance style is perfect, and there was nothing I could do to break his form.”

  “Rosetta, please.”

  “He fights like you’re not even fighting back, like he feels no danger. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Not even when you spar with me?”

  Rosetta’s eyes were wide tear-filled orbs in the moonlight. Her lip quivered and she shook her head. “No, Keaton. Not even then.”

  Keaton stared at her for a long time, then drew his sword and calmly stuck it in the wood of the floor. “I’m going to get Emerick. I need to think.”

  Rosetta let her head fall back on the pillow, and Keaton took off into the night. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs ached, the whole time telling himself he wasn’t running away, and never quite believing it.

  ~

  Keaton and Emerick sat silently in the den, listening to Rosetta’s even breathing from the other room. Keaton had told him everything, and Emerick had listened without speaking. When the sun began to rise, Keaton watched it with a lump in his throat. If he had gone after Mantis last night, would he be here right now?

  “Sun’s up,” Keaton said.

  “Yeah,” Emerick said.

  “Time to train, isn’t it?”

  Emerick was silent.

  Keaton stood up and leaned on the fireplace. “I can’t beat him, can I?”

  “No,” Emerick said. “Maybe in your prime, at your peak, on your best day, but not now.”

  Keaton swallowed hard. “Will you watch over her for a few hours? I need to go to the Dome. I’m turning in my crown.”

  “Okay, brother,” Emerick said. “You’re doing the right thing, you know.”

  “I know,” Keaton said. “You were right. Again. You may well have saved my life, and Rosetta’s too—I’ll be here to train her.”

  Emerick smiled. “That’s why I’m here, remember? To watch your ass.”

  “Thank you,” Keaton said.

  “You’re making me blush.”

  “Seriously.”

  “Seriously, I’m blushing. Look!”

  Keaton left the house smiling.

  ~

  When Keaton exited the dome, he was no longer the King of Lions. He expected to feel different somehow, weaker, ashamed, but he didn’t. He felt strangely free. For the first time, during the walk home, Keaton allowed himself to think about his life after fighting. He thought about his large house, what it would look like full of kids and noise and color. He tried to picture what he and Rosetta’s kids might look like, and smiled at himself when he realized he didn’t know her natural hair color. He guessed—an educated guess—that she was probably a brunette.

  That thought made him laugh out loud. A few passersby looked at him strangely, a few laughed with him without knowing why, and a few, like always, asked for autographs.

  He didn’t sign them “King of Lions.” He signed them, “Keaton.”

  That’s who he was, after all.

  ~

  The next day, Keaton took Rosetta to the cliffs. Emerick’s poultices had taken much of the pain out of her bruises, enough for Keaton to run her through some drills. Without his own training to consider, Keaton found he was more relaxed and able to focus on helping Rosetta progress. It was still early, but she was showing real promise in the Riddance style footwork drills. Riddance was one area in which Keaton thought Rosetta would have an advantage over the Queen of Foxes
. Her transitions between Atonement locks, which had always been good, were beginning to border on brilliant. In the coming weeks, he would need to work with her on countering Eroshi’s notoriously slippery hand blades and avoiding Mau Oolau kicks, but he was optimistic. She had a strong foundation; the rest was just tweaking.

  “How are you feeling?” Keaton asked her after a series of hand blade drills.

  “Good,” she said. “It’s clicking, but I’ll be damn thankful when Emerick shows up with some fresh poultices.”

  “He should be here any time,” Keaton said. “We can take a rest then.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Me?”

  “No, the Bralla.”

  Keaton looked over in time to see his Bralla catch a dragonfly out of the air with its tongue. When he looked back, something in Rosetta’s smile made him laugh out loud. Rosetta laughed with him, and again he thought how beautiful she was, how young and strong and alive.

  He pulled her in and kissed her. She tapped him with her wooden sword in the stomach.

  “Got you,” she said.

  “Light.”

  “Huh?”

  “That’s how I feel,” Keaton said. “I feel light.”

  Rosetta smiled at him, then looked over his shoulder. “I think Emerick’s almost here. He just rode down between the dunes.”

  Keaton turned around. Something didn’t feel right. Emerick had told him earlier in the day that he would ride out on his Bralla and bring Rosetta some fresh poultices before lunch. It was noon now, but the sounds coming from behind the dune didn’t sound like the quieter, shuffling steps of a Bralla. It sounded like the hoof beats of a horse.

  Keaton walked to his Bralla and calmly fastened his sword to his belt.

  “What’s wrong?” Rosetta asked.

  “Probably nothing,” Keaton said. “But put this on just the same.”

  He tossed Rosetta her sword and shield.

  The next minute was dreadfully long and silent, the only sounds the steady thumping of hoof beats and the quiet whisper of the wind. When the figure came over the rise in front of the sun, Keaton thought for a moment that it really was Emerick—this man was certainly large. But when the horse came down out of the glare toward the cliffs, Keaton’s heart jumped up into his throat.

  Mantis rode toward them at a full gallop on the back of a massive black horse. The wind caused everything—the horse’s mane, Mantis’s hair, his robes—to whirl about in a violent dance.