The Desert Spear

line curved in on itself, surrounding the two boys. The shocked look vanished from Shanjat’s face as it twisted in rage, and he came back in hard.
    Jardir flowed like a dancer to avoid Shanjat’s initial blows, which were just as fast as Abban had warned. Finally, as expected, Shanjat launched a wild swing that put him off balance when it failed to connect. Jardir stepped to the left, ducking the arm and driving his right elbow into Shanjat’s kidney like a spear. Shanjat screamed in pain as he stumbled past.
    Jardir whipped around and followed through with another elbow strike to Shanjat’s back, driving him to the ground. His arm was thin and pale from weeks in the cast, but the bones did feel stronger now, just as the
dama’ting
had said.
    But Shanjat caught Jardir’s ankle, yanking him from his feet and falling on him. They wrestled in the dust, where Shanjat’s weight and greater reach were to his advantage. He caught Jardir in a headlock, pulling his right fist into Jardir’s windpipe with his left hand.
    As the world began to blacken, Jardir began to fear he had taken on too much, but he embraced the feeling as he did pain, refusing to give up. He kicked hard behind him, a crushing blow between the legs that made Shanjat loosen his choke hold with a howl. Jardir twisted free and got in close to Shanjat’s joints, where his blows held little force when they could reach Jardir at all. Slowly, laboriously, he worked his way behind Shanjat, striking hard at any vulnerable spots—eyes, throat, gut—as he went.
    Finally in position, Jardir caught Shanjat’s right arm and twisted it behind him, driving his full weight into the older boy’s back with both knees. When he felt the elbow lock, he braced it on his own shoulder and heaved the arm upward.
    “Aaahhh!” Shanjat cried, and Jardir knew it would be a simple thing now to break the boy’s arm, as Hasik had done to him.
    “You were saving my place, were you not?” Jardir asked loudly.
    “I will kill you, rat!” Shanjat screamed, beating the dust with his free hand as he twisted and thrashed, but he could not dislodge Jardir.
    “Say it!” Jardir demanded, lifting Shanjat’s arm higher. He felt the strain in that limb, and knew it could not withstand much more.
    “I would sooner go to Nie’s abyss!” Shanjat cried.
    Jardir shrugged. “Bones become stronger after being broken. Enjoy your stay with the
dama’ting.
” With a heave, he felt bone snap and muscle tear. Shanjat screamed in agony.
    Jardir stood slowly, scanning the gathered boys for signs that another meant to challenge him, but while there were many wide-eyed stares, none seemed ready to avenge Shanjat, who lay howling in the dust.
    “Make way!” Drillmaster Kaval barked, pushing through the crowd. He looked to Shanjat, then to Jardir. “Hope for you yet, boy,” he grunted. “Back in line, all of you,” he shouted, “or we’ll empty the gruel pot in the waste pits!” The boys quickly flowed back to their places, but Jardir beckoned to Abban amid the confusion, gesturing for his friend to take the place behind him in line.
    “Hey!” cried Jurim, the next boy in line, but Jardir glared at him and he backed off, making room for Abban.
    Kaval kicked at Shanjat. “On your feet, rat!” he shouted. “Your legs aren’t broken, so don’t expect to be carried to the
dama’ting
after being bested by a boy half your size!” He grabbed Shanjat’s good arm and hauled the boy to his feet, dragging him off toward the healing pavilion. The boys still in line hooted and catcalled at his back.
    “I don’t understand,” Abban said. “Why didn’t he just yield?”
    “Because he’s a warrior,” Jardir said. “Will you yield when the
alagai
come for you?”
    Abban shuddered at the thought. “That’s different.”
    Jardir shook his head. “No, it isn’t.”

    Hasik and some of the other older boys began training on the Maze walls not long after Jardir lost his cast. They lost their bidos in the Maze a year later, and those who survived, Hasik among them, could be seen strutting about the training grounds in their new blacks, visiting the great harem. Like all
dal’Sharum,
they had as little as possible to do with
nie’Sharum
after that.
    Time passed quickly for Jardir, days blending together into an endless loop. In the mornings, he listened to
dama
extolling the glories of Everam and the Kaji tribe. He learned of the other Krasian tribes and why they were inferior,