Kahless - Michael Jan Friedman [10]
No sooner had Kahless edged up near the front rank of onlookers than the musicians changed their tune. The music became louder-more strident, more urgent. It sounded more and more as if the instruments were yearning for something.
And then that very something had the grace to appear.
With a great, shrill burst of delight from the abindo pipes, the afternoon’s performers darted out into the center of the square. One was dressed all in red, the other all in blue. They glared at each other, feigning hatred, as if already in the midst of a savage combat.
To the audience’s delight, the performer in red bellowed his purpose in a deep baritone: to teach his opponent a lesson about honor. A moment later, his opponent answered in just as deep a voice, echoing the words that had been handed down through the centuries….
“I need none of your wisdom, brother.
The crowd cheered with mock intensity-and awaited the gyrations sure to follow the brothers’ challenges. For this was no choreographed ritual, predictable in its every gesture. Though no injury was intended, there was no telling who would do what to whom.
And yet, when the performance was over, the actor in red would somehow emerge victorious. That was the only certainty in all of this, the only predictability-that in the end, Kahless would exact from his brother Morath the price of telling a lie.
Needless to say, this was only symbolic of the combat in which the real Kahless had engaged-a combat that lasted twelve days and twelve nights. Kahless recalled it as if it were yesterday-at least, the beginnings of it. The rest was all but lost in a stuporous haze, born of sleep deprivation and lack of nourishment.
But Morath had learned his lesson. And from that point on, he had never compromised the honor of his brother or his clan.
There in the square, the actors wove in and out of each other’s grasp. They barely touched one another, but their grunting and their flexing gave the impression of unbridled exertion. Sweat poured from their temples and ran down their necks, turning their tunics dark with perspiration.
Up above, the stormclouds shouldered one another, as if to get a better view of the performance. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked unmercifully. And the musicians answered, not to be outdone, as the first fat drops of rain began to fall.
A second time, the actor in red called out to his adversary, demanding that he regret his act of betrayal. A second time, the actor in blue refused to comply, and the audience roared with disapproval.
As well they should, Kahless remarked inwardly. The only thing worse than incurring dishonor was refusing to recognize it as such.
He wished that puny excuse for a cleric-the one who claimed to have discovered that damned scroll on the road to Sto-Vo-Kor-could have been here to witness this.
He wished the little ptahk could see what real honor was.
Then, perhaps, he might understand the gravity of what he had done-the purity of the faith he had assailed, and the disgrace that attended such a bald-faced lie.
The scroll was a fake. No one knew that better than Kahless, who had lived the events it attempted to question.
For whatever reason, Olahg was lying through his teeth.
But there were those who seemed to take stock in his blasphemy. After all, he was one of the clerics of Boreth, wasn’t he? And as a result, beyond reproach?
In the end, of course, Olahg would be brought low for his deception. Kahless promised himself that. And like Morath, the damned initiate would pay the price for his crimes.
As Kahless emerged from his reverie, he realized the rain had begun to fall harder. Some of the onlookers, mostly old women and little children, went rushing for cover, of which there was blessed little in the square. But most stayed for the balance of the performance, which they sensed was not all that far off.
Sure enough, as the ground turned dark with heavy, pelting raindrops, the actor in red struck his adversary across the face-or so it seemed. Then again. And again.
The actor in blue sank to his knees, defeated.