Bloodname

Pershaw had requested permission to observe the Bloodname contest so that he could track Aidan's progress. Perhaps it would help him resolve his questions about the young man. When he had believed Aidan to be a freeborn, the warrior's rebellious ways had seemed part of his inferior nature. But ever since discovering that Aidan was actually a true, Pershaw had become confused about how to react to the young man. Then, when Lenore Shi-Lu had questioned Aidan's rights to be a warrior because he had failed his first Trial, Pershaw began to reconsider his own views. Considering the obstacles Aidan had encountered, his achievements had been extraordinary. And no matter the caste to which he had belonged, he had fought well and bravely.

But all that would mean nothing if Aidan did not work out Lopar's strategy. Otherwise he would be dead soon enough.

* * *

Aidan got away from the tree as fast as he could, heedless of whether Lopar could hear him ru

Lopar had obviously done some survival training. So had Aidan, once. He struggled to remember anything at all he could use. He also cursed himself for having been too complacent. By lying in wait, he had given Lopar plenty of time to set his snares. Aidan had confidently assumed that the forest was his terrain, but Lopar had quickly adapted to it. Whatever advantage Aidan might have had, it was lost now. He was truly the hunted.

Somehow he had to turn that around.

Feeling ahead of him in the darkness, he went slower now, stepping cautiously. Discovering another of the vines stretched between trees, he cut it with his knife, then rolled it up loosely and slung it over his shoulder. A bit further on, he tripped on something and very nearly came down onto one of the sharpened stakes. Ripping it from the ground, he examined it by touch. Lopar's knife strokes had been smooth and even, for the wood came to a symmetrical point. He rammed the stake into his belt.

More alert now, Aidan was also using his sense of smell, which detected another of the slain animals. Carefully testing the branches of the tree in which it lay, he found that the body had been lodged between two branches. It was still warm, which meant the beast had not died long before. Pressing his back against the tree bark, Aidan listened for any sound that might be Lopar.

He heard nothing.

Leaving the stake at the base of the tree in order to find it again easily, he climbed stealthily up the tree, finding himself a place next to the animal. Feeling along the animal's fur, he located the spot where its heart would be. After cutting into the beast's hide, he felt for the heart through the ribs, then used the hunting knife to cut the organ away from its moorings. Working the heart out slowly and carefully, he finally lifted it from the rib cage. It was a small heart, a compact and strong muscle. Aidan held it close to his face and briefly touched its surface with his tongue. Its taste was somewhat salty, together with a sour flavor he could not identify. The blood smell was strong upon it.

Taking the looped vine off his shoulder, he placed it delicately on the animal, then put the heart carefully inside the loop so he could remove his shirt. He cut off a piece of the vine and used it to help fashion his shirt into a sack. With another section of vine, he made a kind of belt that he tied around the waistband of his trousers. After gently placing the animal heart into the improvised sack, he attached the whole thing to his belt. The rest of the vine he let drop soundlessly to the forest floor.

Then he crouched in the tree and yelled, "Lopar, I tire of these games. Are you a warrior or a coward who slinks around a forest leaving child-traps for his opponent? You called for combat that was hand-to-hand. Let us settle this matter once and for all."

He was counting on Lopar's being vexed at being called a coward. After shouting a few more insults to make sure Lopar was aware of his location, Aidan climbed quickly to a higher branch. The sack made the climb difficult, but not impossible. The thought crossed his mind that what he hoped to do to Lopar was poetry. Not the kind he sometimes read in his secret library, but a crude and cruel kind, a match for the kind of warrior Lopar was.

Finally Aidan heard a sound that was not one of the normal forest noises. It was the first time he had detected Lopar. Perhaps angered by the taunts, Lopar had become careless. The sound of his arrival was faint, the soft crunch of a shoed foot crushing vegetation.

Aidan took the sack from its improvised resting place and held it out in front of him. Lopar was now under the tree, he was sure of it. Taking the sack in one hand, he began to swing it slowly back and forth, increasing its arc slightly with each swing. When he had it swinging quickly, Aidan flung the sack away. When it landed a few steps away from the tree, it sounded, as he had hoped, much like the movement of a human foot through the brush. The weight of the heart plus the cloth brushing against the ground vegetation made a convincing rustling sound.

He sensed Lopar springing toward the noise. Guessing at his opponent's progress, Aidan leaped from the high branch, away from the tree, his legs out. His quick mental calculations paid off. He came down on top of Lopar, his right foot kicking the head of his foe, his left the shoulder.

Both warriors went down, and for a moment there was a confused struggle in the dark. Lopar ripped out with his hunting knife and delivered a glancing blow to Aidan's arm, making a shallow cut. Aidan, who had deliberately left his own knife in its belt sheath, concentrated on using his free hand to subdue Lopar. Managing to get both hands on the man's knife arm, he pushed it away. Maintaining his hold on the arm, Aidan shoved it against a nearby tree.

Still gripping the knife tightly, Lopar reached up with his other hand to grab a clump of Aidan's hair, which he pulled roughly. The pain brought tears to Aidan's eyes, but he did not let go his grip on Lopar's arm. After ramming the arm against the tree bark again, he felt something land at his feet. It had to be the knife. Releasing Lopar's arm, he broke the man's hold of his hair by jabbing upward with his closed-fingered hand into the side of his foe's arm. When he dug the fingers into Lopar's arm, it was with enough force to draw blood and make the warrior let go of his hair.

Though both warriors were skilled in martial arts, the training was useless in the pitch dark of a forest where one could not aim at his target. Aidan had reduced the fight to the level of a brawl, which, as a former freeborn warrior, he knew something about.

From what Aidan could hear and sense, Lopar was scrabbling around on the ground looking for his knife.

"Take your time, Lopar," he said. "I will let you find it. I would not kill you while you are weaponless."

That stopped Lopar. "What kind of freebirth scum are you? You do not even fight like a trueborn warrior. Weapon or no weapon, I would kill you immediately."

"I know that. I have reasons to want this battle judged on the merits of its participants and not on our luck. Get your knife."

Aidan drew his knife and held it loosely in front of him. Moving sideways, he felt around with his foot in the area where he thought the sack containing the animal heart might have fallen. He found it easily, mentally noting its location.