8 - The Children of Violence

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Nomvula clawed her way out of a restless night's sleep. She was on her back, on a pile of cushions, too sore to groan -- and her ears throbbed.

Headaches on headaches...

"Don't move so much," Asanda said from somewhere in the room's. One by one, the ceiling's intricate lines sharpened.

Sunlight patched the walls in burning red and soft amber. Metal disks hung from high wooden beams, spinning the light into vibrant threads. Nomvula squinted at the gold disk above her head; whatever rune Asanda had scratched up, it cooled the air and left a dewy garden scent.

"Why–" Nomvula touched her jaw and winced. "Why am I in your room?"

 Asanda popped up next to the bed, looking like a baker who'd been making loaves through the night. "Whatever you said to Lifa's ancestors, they saved him. You took the worst of it."

"The worst?"

Khaya flanked the other side of the bed. A shallow cut marked the soft brown skin under his left eye. The right was bruised. "I came out to see what was happening. I got to the yard just as you were... awaking. Ma, you looked like a blood demon."

Ndoda limped to the foot of the bed, his torn lip curling up at the corner. "You had Dumani by the head with his face in the grass."

"Ma, that menace was ready to scream before we pulled you off," Khaya said with a mote of pride.

One mote too many...

Nomvula shut her eyes and swallowed bile. All the emotion the spirit plane shut off had chased her into the natural world , and got there before her wits. It was sheer luck Dumani hadn't seen it as an opportunity to legally draw blood -- or rather, hadn't taken it.

"Khaya and Athi say they pulled you off," Asanda said, "but you butted heads and kicked and threw yourself against every wall from the yard to here."

"Enough." Nomvula nearly lurched out of bed with the chill that shot between her eyes, right where the Old One had touched her. "Where's Lifa?"

Her children looked at each other.

Nomvula followed as they turned their gaze to a neighbouring bed. The old man lay there in a sleep too deep for pain – a sleep gifted by the same spirits that had placed the executioner's apron on her mantle. Better to ignore their ultimatum... for now.

"Asi, where will you sleep?"

"I won't. Besides, the healer's house is public," Asanda said. "With his injury, privacy is better for himself and everyone else."

"The bedrooms are also easier to guard," Ndoda said, fidgeting with a freshly-stitched collar.

"Easier to keep an eye on you too," Khaya muttered.

Ndoda's gaze flicked up to his younger brother.  "Enough."

Khaya clicked his tongue, unphased. "Go on, idiot, tell Ma the rest of it."

If only to keep the tender spot between her eyes from flaring, Nomvula tried to relax. "Go on."

Ndoda straightened like a man offended. "Ma, Dumani was hurling insults at you all the while we were dragging you away."

"Of course he was," Nomvula said through gritted teeth. "That's what they came to do, to antagonise and provoke us into doing something stupid. The point is to not rise to the bait, now what did you do?"

"Ma." Ndoda's jaw clenched. His knuckles looked close to popping out of his fists. "If a man keeps flicking you in the eye, do you blink or shove him away?"

"I make all his neighbours richer than him," Nomvula said, "now what did you do, child."

"I'm not a child, I'm a–" He caught himself.

At least you remember that lesson. A man only reminded others of his manhood when he thought it was in doubt.

"I was defending your honour."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Khaya laughed as if he were watching a dog drag its hind across a yard. "He challenged Dumani to a fight."

"Only to first blood," Ndoda argued.

Nomvula winced as she pressed a hand just left of her brow. She wanted to retch. "Who suggested first blood?"

"That coward himself," Ndoda said. "He wouldn't have it when I said we'd fight to yielding."

Well, of course he wouldn't. Bakhonto help me, twenty years of building peace and my enemies pull out every nail in a day.

"Ndoda," she said, "my bright, bold, brave son – Inner Plainer law is deliberately vague about first blood. One reason is to discourage stupid duels like this in the first place. They write their laws to kill fools."

Khaya looked ready to ask a question, but Asanda beat him to it.

"If we apply those laws here, how bad is it?"

Nomvula took a deep breath. She wanted nothing but calmness now, but where does one find it when they have to tell their son: "If Dumani kills you, it'll be entirely legal, provided he fells you with the blow that draws first blood."

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