Renegade of Callisto

If Koja won, or if he fell, it was va lu rokka―“destined.” And he felt no fear, only a firm and unshaken determination to slay the tyrant so that his friends might go free. For their lives were in his hands, and the lives of one’s friends are a heavy burden for any warrior to bear.

The two combatants were armed with spear, whip. sword, war axe, and a long stiletto or poignard. Each bore a small round buckler of light weight, fashioned from tough, lacquered leather tightly stretched over a wicker frame, securely strapped to his left forelimb. Other than this, they were naked.

Kamchan struck first with his spear, which he hurled point-blank at his opponent, hoping to take him off guard. But Koja stood his ground without flinching, merely batting the hurtling shaft aside with his own spear.

Then he advanced upon Kamchan, jabbing with his spear, forcing the other to give ground. They circled each other until, with a lucky stroke, Kamchan caught the wooden shaft of Koja’s spear with a whistling stroke of his whip-sword and snapped it in half.

Koja flung the butt of the spear in Kamchan’s face. And when he lifted his shield to catch and deflect the spear butt, Koja sprang upon him, aiming a deadly stroke with his long, whipping sword.

However, it did not land, for with one remarkable flexion of his double-jointed, insectlike legs, Kamchan leaped backward and avoided the slashing stroke.

Then Koja ran forward and sprang directly over Kamchan’s head, striking downward with his whipsword as he soared above his foe. Kamchan caught the stroke upon his shield, but it was deeply slashed―cut almost through by the stinging fury of Koja’s stroke.

Coming lightly to earth a few paces behind Kamchan, Koja leaped upon him and hurled a rain of furious strokes. Some Kamchan deflected with his own blade, others fell upon his buckler, which was coming apart by now. Kamchan reeled dazedly beneath the storm of steeclass="underline" never in all his days, it seemed to the Arkon, had he faced so tireless or indomitable an opponent.

Suddenly, he sprang forward to close with Koja, striking out, as he did so, with his war axe, which Koja caught upon his shield. So terrific was the force of Kamchan’s blow, however, that it clove entirely through Koja’s buckler and wounded his forearm slightly.

Koja untied and cast away the ruined shield, and now for an interminable time the two fought with sword alone. The chiming of steel upon steel-war’s cold, ferocious music―filled the tense silence which was otherwise broken only by the shuffle of their feet in the dry sand and the hoarse panting of their breathing.

Then Kamchan aimed a savage slash at Koja’s face, but it was a ruse. For he deflected the weapon from its path at the last possible moment and caught Koja across tile left shoulder―a crippling blow. But the “shoulder” of a Yathoon’s arm is shielded by Nature with a heavy cusp of chitinous armor that covers the joint. This was cut through, but the blade did not sink deep into the shoulder itself, quite possibly crippling Koja for life, because Koja permitted himself to roll with the blow while his natural covering of chitin absorbed the worst punishment of the stroke.

Nevertheless, his arm went numb and strengthless, and blood trickled down the paralyzed limb.

Scenting the heady aroma of victory, Kamchan now moved in for an attack of such savagery and utter ferocity that Koja could only fall back from it, helpless, with just his sword-arm to defend himself.

Then Koja tripped and fell backward, sprawling in the sand, and as he did so, he lost his sword. It whirled away, thudding to the floor of the Arena some dozen feet away.

Kamchan would have smiled then, a cold, gloating, cruel smile, but Nature did not design the visage of her most savage children with the ability to smile. Eyes gleaming with cold blood-lust, he stood over the fallen Koja and raised his whip-sword in both hands, to bring it down in one great slashing blow that would end the battle and the life of Koja.

As he raised his sword he also raised his eyes.

And something he saw in the skies caused him to gape incredulously. His timing faltered, his sword wavered.

And Koja, from the ground, seized this momentary diversion. Snatching his stiletto from its scabbard on his harness, he struck upward, sinking the needle of hard steel to the hilt in Kamchan’s abdomen.

A hoarse cry roared from twenty thousand throats as the Arkon, already dead, wavered drunkenly on his feet, then fell over, and lay face down in the dry sand. From his belly a pool of scarlet gore spread, and the sand sucked in the moisture of his heart’s blood.

Koja got to his feet, bent, and severed the head of Kamchan completely from his shoulders.

Koja-Arkon of the Horde!

Chiefs and chieftains and warriors stalked to where he stood, to kneel before him, offering their swords, giving their new Arkon their loyalty and allegiance.

Koja solemnly accepted their vows and permitted them to place upon his head the triple-plumed headdress of the Arkonate.