The Skull Throne

Kajivah took another step back, but Ashia caught her grandmother’s thumb and gave a half turn, catching Kaji smoothly as he fell from her grasp.

“How dare you lay hands upon me, you … !”

Ashia nestled her son into her breast, binding him to her in a sling of silk. Half awake, the boy began sucking at her robe, seeking a nipple. “He is my son, Tikka, not yours. If you would keep him safe, we must go. Now.”

“Your son?!” Kajivah demanded. “Where is your nipple when he hungers? Where are you when he cries? When he soils his bido? Off fighting alagai. And then I find you covered in demon blood, trying to crush the life from him …”

Ashia felt her face heat. “It wasn’t like that. That was an accident.”

Kajivah lifted her veil and spat at Ashia’s feet. “The accident was being cursed with a deviant granddaughter who brings shame to our family.”

It was so ludicrous Ashia had to laugh. “Are you that foolish, Tikka? Can you truly not see my ‘deviance’ is your doing? You pushed me and my sisters into the Dama’ting Palace without a thought of what it meant. I am what you have made of me, and nothing more.”

“And now you expect me to seek the Damajah’s protection?” Kajivah asked. “The very woman who twisted you is to protect me from my own grandson?”

Ashia pulled open her veil, showing the angry red line across her throat. “My own brother tried to kill me this night, Tikka. No one is safe.”

“Asukaji?” Kajivah asked in shock. “What did you do to him?” She came at Ashia in a rush, beating with her fists. “Witch! What did you do to Asukaji?!”

Ashia turned away to protect Kaji, diverting the blows easily. She caught the woman’s arm and put her thumb on a pain convergence, guiding her for the door. Every time Kajivah made to go any direction save the one Ashia wished, she sent a jolt of agony through the old woman, quickly overcoming resistance.

They made it to the hall before there was a shout, half a dozen Sharum rushing in on either side to block their path.

“Thank Everam we have found you safe, Holy Mother,” the kai’Sharum leading them said. “Your grandson is eager for news of your safety.” He turned, leveling his spear at Ashia. “Give the child to the Holy Mother and step back. Now.”

Ashia reached a hand behind her, wrapping it around the shaft of one of the short stabbing spears she wore crossed at her back. “My son belongs with me.”

The kai’Sharum smiled. “And so he will be. The Shar’Dama Ka is most eager for his Jiwah Ka’s safe return as well.”

“So he may kill me himself?” Ashia asked.

“You have little choice, Princess,” the kai said. “Will you fight instead, using your own son as a shield?”

It was Ashia’s turn to smile. “Do not fear for my son, Sharum. Fear instead for any fool enough to point a spear his way.”

“Enough.” Kajivah moved in, reaching for Kaji. “It’s over, Ashia.”

Ashia let out a breath, slumping as she took her hand from the haft of her spear. She turned to her grandmother, fumbling at the knot of the sling that bound her son to her breast.

But when Kajivah was in close, their bodies momentarily blocked the sight of the surrounding warriors. Ashia struck the old woman with a quick, precise blow, making a show of catching her as she collapsed.

“Tikka!” Ashia threw a panicked look at the warriors. “Help her! The Holy Mother needs help!”

The men froze, forgetting the weapons in their hands as they leaned in to the scene, unsure of what to do. The thought of laying hands upon the Holy Mother no doubt frightened them more than facing a horde of alagai.

Ashia struck in the confusion, her hand flicking sharp warded glass at the warriors closest to her.

The men were armored, but Ashia could clip a fly’s wings with her throwing glass. One warrior’s head was tilted just enough for her to slip a glass into his jugular. Sharum did not have nose guards on their helmets, so another caught a glass between the eyes. There was a tiny crack as it broke through the thin bone and drove up into his brain.

The confusion only mounted as the dying warriors stumbled back into their fellows. One Sharum was quicker than the others to catch on, but stepping forward he exposed the gap in the groin of his armor, allowing her to sever the knot of muscle connecting thigh to hip. As the warrior’s leg collapsed, he left her a clear path to the kai’Sharum.

Kaji woke and let out an irritated cry as Ashia put one of her stabbing spears into the kai’s throat. She pulled the other spear from its harness as she kicked the kai into the path of another warrior. A quick stab into the ensuing chaos, and the warrior’s spear arm fell lifeless to his side as she leapt past.

She was through the press then, the way clear before her. A quick sprint and she could climb into one of the secret ways.…

“Bura! Kamen! Take the Holy Mother to Shar’Dama Ka!” a voice boomed. “The rest of you, after her!”

Ashia looked back. A red-veiled drillmaster had taken command of the men, leading the charge himself as two warriors laid down their spears and stripped their cloaks to make a stretcher.

Already she had killed three men, and crippled two more. Honorable warriors following their leader’s commands. Sharum now lost to Sharak Ka.

But she could not let the men take Kajivah to Asome, where he might use her to supplant the Damajah. Nor could she allow the warriors to go back to her husband with word that Inevera had custody of their son.

She looked down, and Kaji met her eyes. She knew then Kajivah had been right. She had let duty separate her from her child, and almost lost him as a result.

“Be brave, Kaji,” she whispered. “Though we walk the edge of the abyss together, I will never leave you again.”

Each of her spears was a two-foot shaft tipped with a foot of razor-sharp warded glass. Ashia popped caps from the ends and joined them with a twist as Kaji gave a yawn and closed his eyes.

Even the drillmaster pulled up as she charged, unsure how to attack without harming the child. She was under his guard before he knew it, and past before he realized he was dead.

She fell into her breath, watching in Everam’s light the lines of power running through the four remaining warriors as she picked her targets. A stomp broke the ankle of the first, giving her plenty of time to parry a thrust from the second. Ashia spun her spear in two hands, slipping the second blade down the edge of the next man’s shield, severing his spear hand. He fell away in horror, clearing the path to the next warrior. This one was ready, but Ashia stepped back, parrying another blow from the second warrior even as she lined up a killing blow for the first. The man had not found balance on his remaining ankle, and a simple shove opened a gap in his defenses.

She expected the warrior with the severed hand to need longer to recover, but the man gave an inchoate cry and rushed her with his shield.

With nowhere to dodge, Ashia twisted, taking the blow on the armor-plated robe at her back. She kept her spear held out crosswise before her, creating a safe zone around Kaji as she was driven into the other warrior.

But while the men took a moment to regain their balance, Ashia’s quick feet never missed a step. A shove and a trip put the warriors on their backs. The lines of the Sharum with the severed hand were dimming fast as his life bled away. She turned to the other, snuffing out his aura with a quick thrust before turning to face the last man standing in her path.