Three streets from the arena, I'agrod stopped smiling.
Kavie had been waiting for that.
The man in blue attacked without hesitation, but the elixir had begun to lose its elegance. His left foot corrected too sharply after each turn. His sword returned to the same killing line regardless of the openings Kavie offered elsewhere. Whatever command ruled him valued completion above survival and force above adaptation.
Choice had been removed.
So had surprise.
Kavie wiped blood from beneath his nose and let I'agrod cut his sleeve.
The curved blade passed close to his ribs.
He stepped inside it and struck the nerve below I'agrod's shoulder.
The sword arm failed.
I'agrod caught the weapon with his other hand before it fell.
"Good," Kavie said.
I'agrod slashed upward.
Kavie leaned away. The point opened his chin.
They had moved from the avenue into a dyers' square abandoned by everyone except the dead and one old woman watching through a shutter she believed concealed her. Blue cloth hung from lines overhead. A broken vat poured red dye between the paving stones.
The colours made the battle theatrical.
Kavie approved.
"You remember him," he said.
I'agrod attacked.
"K."
The sword changed speed.
Only slightly.
"You remember leaving him in the northern ice."
"He left me."
The answer came through clenched teeth.
The elixir did not want conversation.
Some part of I'agrod did.
Kavie caught the next cut, turned it, and forced the blue man against a dyeing frame. Wet cloth collapsed around them. I'agrod tore through it and struck with the broken timber.
Kavie ducked.
The timber shattered a stone basin.
"Who gave you the vial?"
I'agrod's pupils contracted.
Pain crossed his face.
"A boy."
"White clothes?"
The curved sword came for Kavie's throat.
He trapped the wrist.
"A sword too large for him?"
I'agrod drove his forehead into Kavie's broken nose.
Pain filled the square with clean white light.
Kavie staggered back.
I'agrod came after him.
The old woman closed her shutter.
Kavie laughed.
He had spent the day disappointed. K arrived depleted. Valerie gave him the attack he expected. The Father had replaced a prince with a guard's daughter and declined to explain the improvement.
Now a compelled swordsman stood before him with enough buried will to fight both his opponent and his own blood.
The day had corrected itself.
I'agrod's next sequence drove Kavie across the square. One cut opened his side. Another removed the buckle from his armour. The third would have entered his heart if intention and command were the same thing.
They were not.
Kavie saw the place where the man wanted to miss.
He moved into it.
His elbow broke I'agrod's jaw. His knee folded the blue man's leg. He caught the curved sword as it dropped and offered it back hilt-first.
I'agrod stared at the weapon.
"Take it," Kavie said.
The command inside him obeyed before pride could refuse.
His hand closed.
Kavie cut it open.
I'agrod retreated, blood falling into the red stream between the stones.
The fixed smile tried to return.
This time it failed.
"There you are," Kavie said.
He rolled one shoulder and felt the cut in his side pull wider.
"I believe I may enjoy this."