Twenty-two

Before

His sword met mine with a sharp echo across the training field.

"You're getting better," I gritted out as I pushed him and rolled away in the dirt.

Maz leapt to his feet at the same time as I and thrust his sword forward, meeting my parry.

"Admit it, I'm as good as you now."

Our blades clashed again as we danced around each other, the steel slamming together with the ferocity of our pride.

Neither one of us was willing to back down.

This was the way it always was when we fought. Fevered intensity, the rush of elation when I landed a hit, and the overwhelming exhaustion when a bout was completed. I couldn't afford to let him know how much better he had become.

"You only wish you were as good as me."

"Your lies are so easy to spot, Dani."

"Don't call me that."

He smirked, knowing he'd gotten under my skin. I felt a flush of heat rise in my chest at his smile. I pivoted my sword, lifting it from his and then sliding the blade down my hand until the hilt rose up and smacked him in the head.

He stumbled back, the smile wiped from his face with the butt of my sword.

"That was uncalled for."

"Use the name Dani again and I'll smack you with the edge of my blade instead of the hilt."

"Touchy."

He raised his sword again to attack, the light catching the steel. I lifted a hand to block the sun and his rushing feet pounded across the ground toward me.

I laughed. "You can't pull that trick if you are so heavy-footed I can hear you a mile away."

My sword rose to meet his, only the impact never came. I lifted my hands from my eyes to find him still, a frown across his face, looking in the distance at something behind me.

"What—"

A scream sounded, cutting me off, echoing through the village. Then more screams, shouts, and cries. A lead weight dropped in my stomach. I twisted to face the village, the houses dotted through the mountainside.

Then the unmistakable rumble of hooves and horsemen.

Maz moved beside me.

If I didn't know him so well, if I hadn't trained beside him, watching for every nuance, I would have said his dark eyes were emotionless, his face a mask of calm as we listened.

But I did know him.

I caught the small tick pulling the edge of his mouth. The fine beads of sweat dotted across his brow. The darkening of his deep brown eyes.

Maz was afraid.

"What is it?" I whispered. My tongue was so thick I could barely get the words out.

His voice was low, and he kept his gaze trained on the mountainside. "Raiders."

I clutched the hilt of my talwar tighter. My father was in the city bringing new swords to the emperor. I was here alone.

I glanced at Maz at my side. Not quite alone.

"This close to the emperor? They must have some gall." I licked my lips, cracked from the heat. Terror seeped through me, my pulse hammering against my skin. I had trained daily, under the tutelage of a master swordsmith. There shouldn't be anything I wasn't prepared for.

And yet, I'd never been in open battle. Never without the safety of the training field.

Blood rushed to the surface of my hands and made them come alive. I raised my talwar up. Another scream rose in the air, tearing my heart in two.

This was my village, and these were my people.

It didn't matter that Maz and I were alone. It didn't matter if I was afraid. We could save the village. We could try.

"We have to stop them."

Maz turned to face me, his lips white. Dread wound tightly in my stomach, like a cobra coiling up.

His expression said we were about to die, but not if I had anything to say about it.

"I was getting bored of beating you anyway."

The corner of his lips quirked up and dispelled some of the vacant look I'd seen there.

He gave me a terse nod and I exhaled a large breath of relief. My heart drummed in my ears, the erratic beat as loud as a tabla.

We ran to the village, keeping low until we came to an outcropping of houses and small huts. Smoke billowed from one of them, the thick wafts pillowing into the sky.

A child's cry erupted, and I lurched forward, only to be yanked back by Maz.

"Wait."

"There's a child!" I snapped back at him, but I stayed my feet when I saw two large men exit the hut. One held a burlap sack over his shoulder filled with presumably stolen goods, the other something that made my stomach lurch even more—a bloodied sword.

"They've killed people."

He nodded. "Likely. There will be more men than this, though."

"How many?"

He tilted his head, his eyes not on the raiders standing in my village, but somewhere else, on a memory he'd rather stay forgotten. "Usually no more than a dozen. Raiders don't like working in big groups, it's difficult to stay hidden."

"How do you know this?"

"Because raiders came to my village. They killed many."

I couldn't do anything besides clutch my sword and stare helplessly at him.

"I didn't know."

He shook his head, as if shaking the memory off him. "It happened years ago."

The child's cry echoed again from the burning hut.

"But we can stop them now," I urged.

"Listen to me, Dania, raiders are savage." Maz clutched my shoulders, his long fingers digging into the meat of my arm. "They don't care who they kill or hurt. They only care about themselves. If they get the best of you, you won't be standing anymore."

"Then I won't let them get the best of me, will I?" I stood, swirling my sword in my hand. I knew what the consequences would be if I didn't try, and I wasn't prepared to live with that.

I jumped to my feet and headed to the hut, the child's screams growing louder. The two men stood outside laughing, one picking at his teeth.

I didn't hesitate. If I did, they might call for help. And I didn't need to have battle experience to know I wanted to take on as few of them as possible.

I lifted my sword and swung it, slicing the calf of the first raider who held the sack.

He screamed and dropped the bag, clutching his leg. His friend whirled on me.

He was young, that was my first thought.

Barely older than Maz and me. Much too young to be raiding villages and killing children. He wore a square cap that was graying and frayed, and clothes that hung from him like limp sacks. His sword was rusty, as though he didn't take care of it, though the blood smeared across it looked far more ominous than my gleaming, too clean talwar.

He smiled, as if his fellow raider wasn't howling on the ground, grasping the slashed tendons of his bloodied leg.

"Have you come to fight us, little girl? What fun this will be."

He lunged for me, but I was ready. I pivoted and arched my blade behind me, slashing his outstretched arm.

He released a startled cry. "Bitch."

"Thought you would come up with better names to call me after I made you bleed." I nodded to the blood running down his arm.

"Village girl, there won't be anything left of you by the time we are done."

The other raider was standing now, his own bloodied sword poised toward me. "You can't take both of us on alone."

"She doesn't have to."

Maz's voice was deep behind me, and I hated admitting that it felt like a gust of wind in the desert, lifting me up. We'd never been on the same side before, not really. We'd trained and battled and bloodied each other over and over again. But now, I felt it. I knew he wouldn't let me fight alone.

"How touching. Two village children we can slaughter today."

As if we'd done it before, as if we'd practiced a thousand times, Maz and I both walked around the raiders, winding around them like a dance.

I crashed against the younger raider, meeting his blade with deft strokes. Adrenaline was trapped in my throat, and with each successful parry, I felt bolder, more sure. This was no different from the training field, where I dominated. The raider had been in battle before, but I was better trained, and it showed. I managed to land another hit on him, sliding my sword across his shoulder, and then again catching him in the side. He howled and became more erratic, and my confidence grew. I had him, and I was going to make sure he never raided another village again.

But as the smoke from the burning house thickened around us, the child's cry rent the air.

The boy was still in the house.

My footsteps faltered and I missed the next strike. The raider's sword caught the edge of my hand, and I yelped as the blade bit against my skin, the blood welling up.

"Dani!" Maz shouted as he fought with the injured raider.

But my momentum was lost. The young raider advanced again, his confidence buoyed. The screaming surrounded me. If I didn't get the child, he would be dead.

But if I didn't meet the blade of the raider in front of me, I would be.

I gulped down my frustration, a knot forming in my chest at the impossible decision. On the training field there was only myself and the sword.

But this was what Baba meant when he said that battle was different.

He was right—it wasn't about skill, it was about what happened when instinct took over, about what direction your feet took.

It's about heart.

I rushed at the raider, hoping to catch him by surprise. Our swords crossed and I pushed against him, throwing him off balance into the dirt. He raised his sword again but I brought my own down with such force it was knocked out of his hands. He gaped up at me.

"You're just a girl," he said, his eyes as old as mine. "You don't have it in you to kill."

I looked at his bloodied knife in the dirt, then to the house he'd set aflame.

"Being a girl never stopped me from stabbing someone who deserved it. You picked the wrong village to raid today."

He tried to roll away but I was already plunging my sword down, piercing his gut, driving my blade into his skin and feeling my own stomach churn when I felt his innards give way beneath my blade. He collapsed into the dirt, the life draining out of him.

The urge to vomit was so strong, I nearly emptied my insides over his twitching corpse.

But I didn't have time to dwell on what I had done.

"Maz!" I shouted, gesturing to the house.

"Go," he called back. "I'll find the other raiders."

His raider was on the ground, bleeding out from his wounds. Maz looked toward the rest of the village, as I ran inside the burning house.

The roof was on fire, causing it to collapse on itself, the flames catching the furniture and walls. I coughed at the overwhelming pillows of smoke gushing toward me, following the sounds of crying to the back of the small house.

A child was on the ground, clutching his mother, her body the source of the bloodied sword I'd seen.

"Amma!" He looked up at me, desperate to wake his mother.

"Your mother is dead." I moved to grab him. But he clutched her body harder.

"You don't have time for this," I muttered, and pulled him harder.

"Not without my amma."

This time I didn't reason with the boy, I yanked him away from her body and dragged him screaming from the house.

"Other people need help. You'll die if you stay with her. She's already gone."

I knew I was cold. The child needed more comfort than I was able to give him. But it was me carrying him from this house, and not someone else, not someone warmer or kinder. And yet, because of me, he would live. If he hated me for tearing him away from her, at least he would live.

The child reared back and kicked me in the shin, then ran from the burning house and into the mountainside. I watched him, his cries filling the afternoon air.

But a shout of pain wrenched through me and I turned back to the village with panic in my heart.

I knew that cry.

I ran, hefting my bloodied sword beside me. I stopped short when I made it to the village square. Maz was on his knees and two men circled him. His scimitar was nowhere to be seen. Blood ran down his arms and face, and a raider's unmoving body lay in the dirt beside him. At least he'd managed to take another one out before they got him.

They got him .

But not for long.

Confiscated weapons were piled beside the water well, and next to that a group of village women stood together, holding each other. They were women I'd known my whole life, aunties who had fed me, doted on me, pinched my cheeks and exclaimed to my father how much I looked like my mother. Just the sight of their distress made my fingers tighten on my hilt, the anger rising in my chest like a black cloud, like the smoke of burning mud-packed walls.

I crouched behind the well, forcing myself to stay hidden. I didn't have much time, not with Maz unarmed and two raiders advancing on him. But if I wanted us both to live, I needed a plan.

Maz looked small next to the raiders standing above him and I was reminded of his youth next to the two men.

One of the raiders raised his sword up, ready to bring it down against his neck.

It was too late. I'd run out of time.

I picked up a large stone from the dirt and chucked it at the raider about to kill Mazin.

I could hear Maz's voice in my head as I did it: That's your big plan? A rock?

It struck the raider's cheek and he whirled, his eyes narrowing. He put his sword down and began walking to the well where I hid. He stopped before rounding the corner, his attention focused wholly on the women. I was close enough that I was sure he could hear the hammering of my heart.

"Which one of you did it?" The raider's voice was soft, and the women cowered. He swung his bloodied sword in their direction, then pointed at Afra, an aunty who was an elder in our village, who always made the lightest parathas, who folded me into her arms with warm embraces whenever I came back to our village from the city. I bared my teeth, even though no one could see me.

"I'm going to kill every one of you until you tell me who threw that rock. And I will start with her."

Afra raised her chin, her deep voice echoing through the square.

"You'll kill us all anyway. Good job one of us managed to hurt you back."

The raider roared and swung his sword. Afra wrapped her arms around her head preparing for the blow.

But my dagger dug into the flesh of his thigh before he could strike. When he collapsed to his knees, I stood above him, grabbing a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat. Then I slid the sharp edge of my blade across it and threw him down as he choked before turning to face the other raider.

This time there were six standing there, and all had witnessed me kill their fellow marauder. The tallest among them had his beefy hands wrapped around Maz's throat.

"You won't be able to take us all on. Didn't think this through, did you?" The tall raider grinned, showing a mouth full of blackened teeth.

"I did think about it. But I assumed you were all equally inept with a blade."

"We're not the inept ones, girl."

"No? What would you call leaving all your captives next to a pile of swords and clubs?" I gestured to the women behind me. At my words, they all looked over at the weapons.

"We can all fight them," I said to the women of my village, the ones who'd watched me train with my father since I was a child. "They can't stop us all."

Without hesitation the women rushed to the weapons and armed themselves. I smiled as even the youngest girl picked up a katar and snapped it into place over her knuckles.

We were women from a village where one of the greatest swordsmiths lived. We knew weapons.

The raiders looked uneasy, but still advanced on us.

My hands shook, my palms so slick I nearly dropped the hilt of my sword. But the women were braver than I—they rushed at the raiders, beating them with clubs and swords, and giving me the opportunity I needed.

I raced around them, stabbing the arm of the raider who still held Maz and then slashing his neck. He gurgled, pressing his hands to the wound, and released Maz. Maz rolled to his feet, and I threw him a sword.

"We have to help the women."

He grinned, blood leaking from his lip, his dark eyes focused wholly on me.

"You know I'd follow you anywhere, Dani."

Something twisted in my heart, and I was suddenly robbed of breath in a way that had nothing to do with the battle.

He'd said it so simply, almost nonchalantly, but it pierced the center of me like a hot knife through ghee. I didn't have time to turn the words over in my mind, not when the fight had truly begun.

I rushed into battle and Maz followed. We fought side by side until our hands bled and our shoulders ached. And only then, in the quiet after the fight, in the grieving for those lost and triumph that we managed to win the day, did I dwell on that coil of feeling that had struck me when Maz had looked at me like I was a goddess and he a zealot.

I'd follow you anywhere .