He motioned to the two men standing at the ramp. Although they were clad in head-to-toe armor, I recognized the arrogant swagger of the stockier figure.
Ranne.
My innards cramped in familiar fear. Were we going to fight Ranne? But he was a master. Then it all made terrible sense—Baret was Ranne’s favorite. Lord Ido was leaving nothing to chance.
“I am told that you have all trained with Swordmasters Ranne and Jin-pa,” Lord Ido said as they approached him and bowed. “They will share the honor of sparring with you for the pleasure of the Rat Dragon and our most Heavenly Emperor.”
Ranne turned to look at us, a gloved hand on his hip. Instead of the usual lacquered leather he wore during training, his armor was made of metal scales, the helmet edged with a curtain of mail to protect the neck, the polished breastplate engraved with the character for valor.
“This will be similar to the combat training we have done all year,” he said. “However, the sequences will not be in order of ascendance. They will be random. Do you understand? Swordmaster Jin-pa and I may start with the Rat sequence, or the Ox sequence or the Horse sequence. It will be different for each of you. All of the twelve sequences will be used, but not in the order of ascendance. A good test of reflexes and anticipation.”
A low murmur of apprehension rolled along the row. Most of our training had been directed toward a solo exhibition of the sequences in strict order. Not toward combat. Not in random order.
Jin-pa stepped out from behind Ranne. His breastplate bore the character for duty. I had only ever worked with him once; a fair man who had shown me how to adapt a kick for my lame leg. He took his helmet off, tucking it under his arm. The padding had made indentations on his long face, giving him the look of a kindly death’s-head.
“Boys, do not be alarmed. You know all of the sequences. It is now just a matter of trusting your training and letting your movements flow from your Hua,” he said bracingly. “The rules of ceremonial combat are just the same as training combat—contact with the flat of the sword or the butt of the handle only. And remember, this is about showing your technique and stamina. Concentrate on recognizing the first form of each sequence, then—”
Ranne shifted irritably. “They’re as prepared as they’re going to be,” he interrupted, ignoring Jin-pa’s dark look. “Now it is time to meet the challenge and do honor to their masters and ancestors.”
“Well said, Swordmaster Ranne,” Lord Ido said, waving Jin-pa back. “Will you spar with the odds or the evens?”
Ranne stared down the line as if considering his decision. Through the eye slits of his helmet, I saw his gaze flicker over Baret. How early in our training had Lord Ido planned all this?
“Evens,” Ranne said.
Foul acid rose into my throat. Number four—the number of death. Had Ranne drawn it for me, knowing I would be at his mercy?
Lord Ido turned to us. “Those with even numbers will spar with Swordmaster Ranne. The odd numbers will spar with Swordmaster Jin-pa. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Lord Ido,” we obediently chanted. I heard Quon’s voice break with relief.
The sound of distant drums and trumpets sent the senior officials scurrying to the ramp. Quon and I exchanged knowing glances: the emperor had started the short journey from palace to arena. It would not be long now.
Last year I had stood beside the roadway, one of the crowd watching the long procession that escorted His Imperial Majesty to the ceremony. The marvelous sight was still bright in my mind. I knew that, outside, the wide boulevard would now be filled with ranks of drummers and trumpeters, playing a march composed especially for the day. Behind them would come rows and rows of armored mace wielders, swordsmen, and lancers with silk flags flying from the blades of their weapons. There would be twelve men on matched black horses riding in rows of three and carrying the huge fluttering banners of the dragons, followed by lines and lines of eunuch footmen in the dark blue livery of the inner household, each carrying an incense burner releasing spicy perfume into the air. One hundred lantern carriers would be next, their carved lights swinging on tall gilded sticks. Then the young noblemen currently in favor would stride by in their finery, calling the royal presence with chants of their family’s fealty. The crowd would drop to their knees in the swirling dust as the handsome heir, Prince Kygo, rode his horse past. Then the emperor, grave and majestic on a white stallion bridled in gold and pearl, would pass by, surrounded by one hundred imperial guardsmen in tight formation, each armed with a pair of wicked serrated blades held in crossed salute.
It would take at least one half bell for the emperor to enter the arena and ascend the throne set above the darkened mirror of the Lost Dragon. Then another half bell before the ceremony began. One hour before I bowed to the Heavenly Master. Before I faced Ranne’s swords.
The Mirror Dragon Third sequence! Did Ranne know I had permission to replace it with the Reverse Horse Dragon Second?
An official wearing the ruby rank ran up to Lord Ido and dropped to one knee, delivering a message.
I had to get to Ranne. Make him understand that I didn’t have to do the Mirror Dragon Third.
Lord Ido nodded to the official, the predatory lines of his face tightening in anticipation. “Candidates, go now with your council official. Listen carefully to his instructions,” he said. “You will have a short time to prepare before Swordmaster Ranne and Swordmaster Jin-pa call you into position. I wish you all good fortune.”