City of Sunlight
Part 4

	I was more than a little nervous as I prepared to accompany my Master that evening.  But I wasn't a terrified child anymore.  I could face down Master Ahir--[i]no just Ahir,[/i] I mentally corrected myself--especially with Master Heyardin at my side.  And really Master Heyardin would be doing all the work.  I just had a few key things to contribute...  The thought didn't quite settle my stomach, but I felt I could manage, at least.
	
	I finished dressing in my best kilt, with the blue and gold trim, and set off through the house to Master Heyardin's quarters.  He was ready as well, so we left and threaded our way through the crowded streets.  I followed Master Heyardin with my head lowered, and tried to keep my nervousness under control.
	
	The gambling house was a large, low building located near the center of the Great Bazaar.  It was brightly lit with both lamps and candles, so that the gamblers could see their various games of chance clearly.  It was crowded, though not as thronged as I had seen it on some occasions.  Master Heyardin seldom played such games, but my second Master had gambled now and again, and had sometimes brought me along.  
	
	Master Heyardin seemed to be moving aimlessly, stopping frequently to place a small wager on a few of the games, or to speak with someone he knew.  He was out for a casual evening of fun, as far as anybody else could see.  His bearing was relaxed, his expression genial; he showed no sign of the hunter's intensity that he had shown when planning this evening.
	
	Eventually, however, he came to a game table where an all-too-familiar face was among the circle of players.  I shuddered to see him, though I knew the look of the hem of his favorite robe better than I knew his features.  But tonight I did not drop my eyes, but raised them to look at him directly.  I had been ordered, and these were orders I would happily obey.   His eyes were dark brown, hard and set.  He held his ears back, in a perpetually harsh expression that hovered somewhere between anger and contempt, so utterly unlike the way Master Heyardin regarded the world with ears pricked forward, always ready to smile.   I stared at Ahir openly, and was suddenly hardly able to believe how much I'd once feared him.  He was not a Master.  He was not even a man.  He was a creature, a worm beneath my foot.  My nervousness suddenly vanished, replaced with that same excitement I'd felt earlier, that same eagerness that had shown in my Master's fierce grin.  When our work was done, Ahir would take his rightful place in Hell.
	
	Ahir didn't notice my gaze as Master Heyardin seated himself and joined the game.  Ahir was intent on his playing, and when I flicked a glance around the table I saw the bait that Master Heyardin had used to lure him here.  A Shakal boy-child, all huge ears and enormous golden-brown eyes, very pretty and very unusual--few Shakal were slaves--was standing behind one of the other Masters, and a chit that stood for his ownership sat next to the pile of counters that the man held, showing that he might, if he chose, add the child to the pot, should his funds run out.  He hadn't done so yet, but Ahir's glance strayed very often towards the boy, and I didn't doubt that he was hoping quite fervently that the child would be his.  But I was quite certain he was destined for disappointment on that front.  I let my disgust at the thought of Ahir's eagerness to own the child show quite clearly, and eventually he noticed.  A few others at the table noticed as well, and I was soon the focus of several pairs of eyes.  I avoided meeting the gaze of any that were Masters, though I gave a quick glance to the few freemen who sat at the table.  Ahir seemed uncertain.  Here was a slave, doing the unthinkable by looking him in the eyes.  And everyone else had noticed.  He would be shamed if he let if pass unremarked.  But Master Heyardin was paying no attention whatsoever to the stares of the others at the table, so Ahir would have to bring it up himself.  And I could tell he recognized me.  He might well be wondering if his past abuses were the reason why I stared, and thinking that he did not want such matters discussed.  But the stares of the others at the table were more and more shifting from me to Ahir.  He could not let such a slight be ignored.  Finally he spoke.
	
	"Sir.  Your slave seems somewhat ill-trained."
	
	Heyardin didn't look up immediately.  But after a pause he raised his eyes from his counters and said, "What, you mean my northern boy here?  His training is impeccable.  I don't know what you're talking about."
	
	Ahir seemed quite taken aback by this response, but after a moment he said, "He has been staring at me, sir.  A well-trained slave does not look at a Master's face.  He looks at the floor."
	
	Heyardin let just a hint of his fangs show at that.  "But a slave may look at a freeman, if he wishes."
	
	Ahir's ears went back and his eyes narrowed.  "I am no freeman, I am a Master!"  He gestured to the body-servant, a woman I recognized vaguely from my years with him.  The slave at his shoulder was a sure sign of his status.
	
	Heyardin smiled.  "Merely having purchased a slave does not a true Master make.  As far as I am concerned you are Master only over scared little boys, and that makes you no real Master at all."
	
	"Just because I choose to train children..."
	
	Heyardin cut him off.  "Train children, is that what you call it?  Or are you also so stupid, as well as so weak, that you don't know what I'm talking about?  I'll make it clear for you.  I refer to your sexual habits and the fact that as all know, you can't reach satisfaction with a women.  They are doubtless too intimidating.  So you are forced to molest little boys."
	
	There were gasps of shock around the table.  Ahir's eyes went wide, and he pinned his ears flat in anger.  He sputtered, outraged and flustered, "How... how dare you!"
	
	"Oh I dare quite easily, since you're such a coward."
	
	Ahir sputtered wordlessly this time, unable to even formulate a response.  Master Heyardin's grin widened, and I couldn't help but smile myself. "If you were a real man and a true Master you'd challenge me for saying such a thing.  But you're nothing but a cringing coward who can Master no one, and who can only raise his manhood when he has a helpless child in front of him.  My own slave here, who used to be owned by you, has told me what goes on in your household.  Isn't that right, Keegan?"
	
	"Yes Master.  Ahir," I stressed the name ever so slightly, to make sure none could miss my speaking it, "brought me to his bedchamber quite often when I was a child, but his women never left the harem."
	
	Ahir's mouth gaped open in an expression that  was almost comical, and his ears went down, splayed to the side, not back, something that I knew well enough meant fear rather than anger.  I don't know if he knew how we had manipulated him, but he knew the corner he was now in.  If he ignored being called a coward, that was bad enough.  But to ignore being called by name by another man's slave!  That was the worst possible insult.  And if he was not to become a public laughingstock there was only one response he could give.
	
	"I... you insult me, sir!  And your slave insults me!  How dare he speak my name!  I... I...." he didn't want to say it. I could see that he didn't, but he had no other option.  He finally flattened his ears  and managed a defiant snarl as he said, "I demand satisfaction!"
	
	I had to struggle to keep my triumphant grin off my face.  We had him.  
	
	"Very well.  I doubt a coward like yourself will even turn up in the circle," said Master Heyardin with contempt obvious in his voice.  "But I will be happy to give you satisfaction if you should manage to somehow grow a real manhood between now and then."  He rose and added, "Seeing your cowardly face turns my stomach.  I am through gaming for tonight, I think."  He bowed to the gaming house's dealer and left the table, leaving most of the other players still gaping in shock.

-----
	
	I had wondered if the duel would take place in the city arena, but it seemed that the fights of Masters were not supposed to be a spectacle for the masses, and so the circle of honor was elsewhere, near the edge of the city.
	
	I had to smile when we arrived and I looked around, for there were viewing stands here too, if not quite so many as at the arena.  They were fairly full this warm spring morning.  Apparently there were many who would wish to see Ahir and Master Heyardin fight.  I wondered how many came for some personal reason and how many merely wished to see a pair of Shakal do battle.  The jackal-folk were known for fierceness, though I did not think of Ahir as particularly fierce.  Fearsome, perhaps, to my child self, but he was not a warrior.
	
	Then again neither was Master Heyardin.  Still, he seemed completely confident as he spoke with the city official who was there to assure that the duel was legal.  I couldn't see Ahir's expression, though I could just make out his golden-furred form on the far side of the circle.  Was he confident as well?
	
	Heyardin took the sword that the official handed him. Weapons were provided so that neither party could cheat.  He stepped back over to me and smiled.  "You look nervous."
	
	"Are you sure you can beat him?  He's a Shakal too..."
	
	"He is a coward at heart.  You've said yourself he has only ever fought the small duels, where a touch ends the battle.  Back when I was establishing my trade routes in the outlands I fought real battles.  I'm not the best swordsman in the world, but I am experienced enough.   And I am confident as well!  In my ability to intimidate him, more even than in my skill with the sword.  Don't worry."
	
	But I couldn't keep my heart from sinking as he selected his sword and walked out onto the field.  What if he died?  He had no heir.  His property would fall to the king, and all his slaves would mostly likely be sold.  I could not face being owned by an uncaring Master again.  I resolved then that if he fell, that very night I would remove my collar and strike out for the northlands.
	
	I felt Anahera's hand take mine, and I clutched at it.  I wanted to see Ahir brought to justice, but suddenly the risk didn't seem worth it.
	
	"It's all right," said Anahera.  
	
	I nodded.  It was too late for second thoughts now.  All I could do was trust my Master.  He had never let me down before.  
	
	Heyardin took his stance near the center of the circle.  His posture was relaxed, his ears up.  Ahir faced him, and the other Shakal was tense, ears back, hovering between anger and fear.  They took a few steps closer, and the officiator stood between them.
	
	"To satisfy honor life must be spent," said the official.  "So let the Gods choose the victor."
	
	I exchanged startled glances with Anahera.  We had all thought that a blood duel was more likely, which would make things much harder for Master Heyardin, for he must not get so much as a scratch, and must kill Ahir with one blow.  But it also made things much more safe, for Ahir would almost certainly seek to do some superficial damage and escape, rather than seeking Heyardin's death.  The officials, however, had chosen a death duel.  Even from this distance I could see Ahir's ears go further down.  His tail twitched, and I realized he was fighting the urge to tuck it between his legs.  I nearly laughed.  Fear was still in me, Ahir would be fighting for his life, and desperation could drive him to do almost anything.  But Heyardin already had the upper hand, before a single blow had been struck, for his ears were still up, and his tail waved carelessly back and forth.
	
	"Somebody up high must not like Ahir much," said Anahera.  "Or else they don't like Master Heyardin, and don't realize what I fighter he is.  But after his last duel that's hardly likely."
	
	I nodded, but my eyes were riveted on the circle, where the officiator had stepped out, and the two combatants were circling each other warily.
	
	"Come on," said Heyardin cheerfully.  "Have at it, you cowardly son of a hyena!"  Ahir just kept circling, but Heyardin lunged straight at him.  Ahir backed up rapidly, actually putting a foot outside the ring.
	
	The officiator lifted a whistle around his neck and blew it.  "Stay in the ring, else you'll forfeit!"
	
	I grinned at that.  Forfeiting a death match meant becoming a slave, a fate that was considered worse than death for a Master.
	
	Ahir stopped backing up and resumed circling.  Heyardin mostly just chased him around the ring.  The other Shakal sometimes tried a sudden, almost hysterical attack, but mostly he evaded, and defended himself.  
	
	"I wonder if he's trying to last out the fight?" said Anahera quietly in my ear.
	
	"Probably," I replied.  If the battle lasted till sunset it would be declared a draw, with honor satisfied without death.  But it had begun at noon, and sundown was many hours away.  Watching the two figures move back and forth across the circle I doubted that they would last that long.  Both already had muzzles open, tongue lolling out and panting.  Heyardin's ears were pinned back now, though not in fear.  His open muzzle had lips pulled back in a snarl.  Ahir had stopped trying to hold his tail up, it was low, and he nearly tripped over it once as he scrambled to evade Heyardin's sword.  It was very obvious who was likely to win.  But though Heyardin was clearly the better fighter, Ahir was as yet without a scratch, having managed to block and dodge every blow thus far.
	
	After what seemed like an eternity of tension, the officiator blew his whistle.  It was time for the combatants to rest.  We had brought water, and a little food for Master Heyardin, if he wanted it.  A small cluster of people standing opposite us no doubt had similar amenities for Ahir.
	
	At the sound of the whistle, Heyardin lowered his sword and took a step back. Ahir did likewise.  Heyardin turned and waved at us.  I lifted my hand to wave back, then cried out in shock as Ahir raised his sword and lunged at Heyardin's back.  My cry was echoed by Anahera, and by the watchers in the stands.  The officiator darted forward, blowing his whistle.  Everything seemed slow, and impossibly clear.  Anahera and I both started to run to our Master, but before anyone could reach him Ahir's sword had sunk in.  He cried out and fell.  My heart was in my mouth.  I reached his side as the officiator reached Ahir.  Ahir turned on the officiator with a snarl, and was met with a drawn sword, but I didn't have eyes for the battle at arm's length from me, all my attention was fixed on Heyardin. 
	
	I knelt helplessly next to him. I had no idea what to do.  He was breathing yet, but blood was pouring from him, soaking his tunic rapidly.  Anahera put her hands over the wound, pushing to slow the bloodflow and screamed "Somebody get a healer!"
	
	Someone came racing from the stands, circling the battle between the officiator and Ahir that was shortly about to end, for guards were also pelting in from where they'd stood by the stands, and only a moment later Ahir was disarmed and dragged from the circle.  I cared nothing for that, my eyes were fixed on the man sprinting to us.  He skidded to a halt and dropped to his knees next to us.  "I'm a healer," he said, gasping for breath.
	
	"Thank the gods," said Anahera.  
	
	The healer put his hand over hers, and there was a glow of blue light.  I had never seen healing magic before, but I had no doubt I was seeing it now.  Some of the fear that choked me began to ebb.
	
	After some time the healer removed his hand, and Anahera lifted hers as well.  Heyardin stirred,  and got slowly to his knees.  Then suddenly he bent over and began to cough.  Fear filled me again when I realized he was coughing up blood.
	
	"It's  all right," said the healer.  "The sword pierced his lung.  I have healed the damage, but some blood was already inside when I did so, and he needs to clear it."
	
	Master Heyardin tried to speak, then bent over in another coughing fit.  He looked terrible, his muzzle dripping with blood, but finally he seemed finished, and managed to say "Thank you," to the healer.
	
	The healer smiled.  "Thank me again after you see my bill, and I'll believe you mean it."
	
	Heyardin chuckled.  Then, with Anahera at his side, insisting on helping him, and with myself hovering anxiously, he got to his feet.
	
	The officiant, sword once more sheathed at his side, came over to our little group.  "Master Heyardin.  Since your opponent has broken the rules rather spectacularly he is to lose his Mastery, and be sold as a slave.  Most likely at the next High Market.  However, if you wish arrangements could be made for a private sale..."  He trailed off, but the implications of the offer were startlingly clear.
	
	"Hah."  The sound was a short bark, almost a laugh.  "Tempting.  But I have always said that one should be sparing with the lash, and I would hate to bring a slave into my house that would make me a hypocrite on that account.  No, I think I shall pass.  I'm sure slavery itself will be punishment enough for his cowardice."