Rebel Elements (Seals of the Duelists) by Jasmine Giacomo Read Free Book Online Page B

at the corner of his mouth, slurring his words.
    “So you are awake.”
    Calder froze for a moment, then relaxed. Stupid idea anyway, playing at sleep. “Aye. What are you doing to that plant?”
    “Feeding it. Four drops today.”
    “Your blood-guzzling plant has a feeding schedule? Sints preserve me. What sort of barbarian are you?”
    “The kind with trained blood-guzzling plants, of course,” Bayan replied. “Would it change your opinion of either me or the plant if I told you it was a seerwine pitcher?”
    Calder thought for a moment. “Of the plant, aye. Pretty certain you’re still off your nut.”
    “Fantastic.” Bayan put the pitcher’s pot back on the bedside table and lay down. “Then I’m a relieved barbarian.”
    Calder shifted uncomfortably. “About the ‘barbarian’, I dinna mean your people. I meant mine. My ancestors, the Tuathi. Pale raging horse lords, that’s us. Or so the wisps think.”
    “Pale barbarians? What sort of barbarians stay in their tents all day and get no sun? Or do they keep the tents on the backs of their horses, like giant snails?”
    Calder barked a delighted laugh. “Snail lords! I’m afraid I’m going to like you, Balang.”
    Bayan’s ropes creaked again as he turned toward Calder’s bed. “Can I ask you about the Academy?”
    “I’ve heard all the usual stories, but I don’t know anything more about it than that.”
    “No, I mean to say I don’t even know what a duelist does.”
    Calder blinked. “How far away do you live?”
    “Pangusay. It’s by the ocean at the south end of Balanganam. It took Surveyor Philo seven years to get down there.”
    “Really? You speak Waarden well.”
    “My teacher got there faster than Philo did.”
    “Well then: duelists. They’re servants of the empire, same as the lords and politicians and the like, only they’re more duty-bound. They’re duelists for life. If they serve a score of years, they can get a different title, work outside the duel dens. But many of them canna manage to serve that long… intact.”
    “Intact?”
    “It’s a dangerous business, magic. Flinging fire and rocks and ice at each other all day, every day. Injuries are bound to happen, and not even a den chanter can save everyone from everything.”
    “That’s madness! Why do we have to serve for life if it’s so dangerous? Why us?”
    “Because of the magic. During wars—and the empire’s had more than its share—the duelists are the empire’s main defense. But during times of peace, the emperor has to do something with all that magic, lest we who are gifted decide to claim some chunk of the empire for ourselves. So he puts us to work keeping that peace.”
    “And how are we supposed to do that?”
    “Duels. Our job will be to settle disputes. We keep in fighting shape in case of war, and we duel each other to determine which claimant wins.”
    “Like a legal court, but with magic and death, then?”
    “Exactly!” Calder beamed.
    “Ay, Bhattara.”
    “That’s how duelists become famous: by winning lots of duels. The best become celebrities, with entourages, nicknames, all the trimmings.”
    “Can they go wherever they want?”
    “Aye, sure.”
    Bayan’s face brightened. “Tell me more.”
    Calder frowned. “Well, most of the really good stories involve the Tuathi invasions, and some of the most famous duelists in history who returned to be teachers, especially right after the Academy was sacked—”
    “The Academy was sacked?”
    “Twice. In both the First and Second Tuathi Wars. Back when the original three Waarden kingdoms were finally becoming best mates, my ancestors lived a nomadic, raiding life up behind the Maam Ardcath. You know, the hills to the northwest? When the Waarden got fat and happy down here in the valleys, the Tuathi decided they wanted a share of that easy life. And they got it. They settled down across Marghebellen and Gallenglaas, and the Tuathi who still held to the old nomadic ways shunned