I ran up the steps, pulling an arrow from my quiver as I went. I could hear war cries of the Mixtecs as they entered the city from their boats. They were bent on taking this place. My task was to prevent them from going any farther than they already had.
As soon as I got to the flat roof I saw the army advancing into the city. A flicker of movement on the roofs around me was followed by men’s shouts and the sounds of bodies falling. They landed with wet thuds in water or blood-soaked earth. Soon the streets would be filled with slain men. Our island capital had been designed that way. No walls and a warren of twisting alley-ways made it easy for our army to pick off approaching solders. I put an arrow to the string and let it fly. My target landed heavily; the first pool of blood this far into the city.
Arrow after arrow flew from my bow. Most of them hit their targets with satisfying results. If they did not fall from my strike, they fell from another’s shortly after. As my quiver ran empty, I reached for the other arrows stashed beside me.
An arrow thumped into the roof deck. I spun, arrow to the string, but whoever had wanted to ambush me was already gone. A pool of blood told me what had happened to the guard stationed there. Somebody had managed to get around all defences to kill him.
Anger heated my body. Only a native to this city, this army, would know how to get close to an archer. And I had a feeling I knew who it was. I checked to make sure my club with its obsidian chips was in my hand before running to the stairs. My quiver and bow I left on the roof, knowing I would return.
At least, I hoped I would.
I didn’t bother trying to track my opponent. I knew where he was heading. He would keep to the same empty streets I would; the ones that had been blocked off to steer the Mixtecs into traps. But he wouldn’t run into any traps. Neither would I.
“Chantico!”
Not one to ignore the bark of a captain, I halted.
“You were ordered not to leave your post.”
I met his gaze, unflinching. “I was ambushed, Sir. And I know who did it.”
“You can let others take care—” the captain stopped when he saw the set of my jaw. “They won’t be able to. I see.”
He waved me on without waiting for a response then yelled at another man to take my post. Silently thankful he understood, I ran on. He knew who I was after. Or, he guessed. My strides became longer as I followed his trail. A flame in my stomach urged me on.
Another pool of blood let me know I was close. The body was that of Tenoch, the man who had taught me to string a bow. Who had taught him to string a bow. Tenoch had been killed from behind. The coward’s way. I said a prayer under my breath and moved on. Only this time I didn’t run. I crept along the sides of buildings; ears open for any sound of movement. Tenoch’s blood was still fresh.
I found him crouched behind a low stone wall, looking for a trap set by my companions. An arrow was put to the string of his bow. I silently slid the shield from my back and rested it on my arm. Just as he took a breath to relax, I rapped my club against the building. He spun, bow still drawn.
For long moments we stood facing each other. My shield arm twitched, ready to move should he release his arrow. Even at such a close distance, my shield would certainly stop his arrow for piercing my flesh.
Eventually he lowered his bow and laughed. “Brother, I should have known you wouldn’t hesitate to chase me.”
My lip curled at the mention we had once been tied by blood. He lost that relationship to me a long time ago.
“I’m amazed you managed to escape the city alive,” I said coldly. “I’m even more amazed the Mixtecs gave you safety.”
He shrugged. “All I did was promise them a path into the city. It’s not my fault they never asked what had driven me from here in the first place.”
“Rape and murder,” I spat, still unable to get the taste off my tongue. “And now you’ve murdered twice more. I had once said your blood ran cold, Luc.”
He flinched as I said his name. Was he somebody else now? It didn’t matter. He was only one person to me now.
“Cold like a lizard’s,” he said, finishing my sentence. “I remember.”
I shifted my weight to a fighting stance. His tone hadn’t been remorseful.
“Why did you even come back?” Both of us knew that if he was captured, he would be killed.
Luc repositioned his fingers on the bow’s shaft. “Your actions were almost the same as mine that night. Only you got away with it. And if this was the only way to find you again, so be it.”
He brought his bow up and loosened before I could respond. His arrow grazed my arm, hardly cutting into my flesh. His shot had been so far away from my body, it was almost not worth wasting the time. My confusion was forgotten when I heard the scrape of obsidian on stone as he picked up his club. I brought my shield up in time to stop his blow. Luc had just wanted to distract me. My shield shook as his club cut into the hide that covered it. I managed to throw him off just in time to stop another blow. I heard more chips being taken out of my shield as it saved my skin from his attacks. His blows kept moving higher, until one swing would have cut into my neck had I not stopped it.
We were body-to-body then. I could feel his acid breath on my face. My arms trembled from resisting his blows. The uneven puffs of air Luc took told me he was in a similar condition. Neither of us had dulled in the time we had spent apart. He had even used the same tactics we had once been taught.
Which meant he might make the same mistakes.
A last flicker of strength flared inside me. I threw him off and rammed my shield into his stomach. The breath driven from him, I hooked my leg around his and jerked. Before he could regain what little breath he had left, I had him pinned to the ground. The chip of obsidian that rested at his throat drew a pinprick of blood. The chips on my club were freshly cut. Sharp enough to kill cleanly, with hardly any pain.
“Move,” I panted, “and you die.”
Luc let his club arm go limp, but he didn’t let go of his weapon. “You won’t be able to do it, Chantico. You weren’t able to before.”
Memory filled me from that night. I remembered the fear in her eyes, the life I knew I’d destroyed. I hadn't been able to kill her. I didn't know if she had killed herself. I was almost certain she had. Seeing her cry on the roadside as we slipped away into the dark forest—the vision still haunted me.
Luc seemed to sense I was weakening. He pressed on.
“Tico, you’re still my brother. We’ll still be blood no matter what happens.”
I knew Luc too well; he was beginning to play with my mind. I wiped sweat off my brow with my arm, just to buy myself some time.
It was then I saw it. The tension in his club-arm. The slight twist to his smiling lips. The strain on his neck as he began to push himself up.
“We’ll let the gods decide,” I murmured. His mouth opened to respond, but I had already begun to swing my shield. It connected with the side of his head, emitting a soft thump. He fell back into the street, eyes rolled back so only the whites showed.
“Wise choice,” the captain said from behind me. I didn’t question why he was there, or why he hadn’t interfered. This had been a matter of family, but not anymore.
I stood up, my shield and club heavy. I felt liquid run between my fingers and remembered my cut. The pain was only a low throb; it shouldn’t take long to heal.
Other men from my unit came and carried Luc away. A captured man, he would stay locked away. But like all prisoners of war, his time in captivity would hardly be a strain. He would be given almost everything his heart desired; a last taste of sweetness before death.
I swallowed at the thought he would be imprisoned for sacrifice. I knew he would have been as soon as I saw the blood on his hands. But he had escaped before that sentence had been carried out. Only this time, there was no escape.
The captain clasped my shoulder and told me how we had won. Most of the Mixtec soldiers left dead in the streets or captured. I listened dully as he told me when the ritual combats would begin to determine who would be sacrificed. I was too tired to care about when they would start. Only the veterans were allowed to perform in the combats. It was a small mercy to me. I couldn’t be the one chosen to kill Luc.
~
A week later, the trials on the stage and with the guards had gone by. Today’s was the last combat to be held. The gods had been feasting on blood all of this week, from the losers of combats as they were slaughtered on stage and the winners who had been sacrificed at the top of our temples. They only had one more drink from the attack.
Luc’s blood.
He was led to the stage, armour-less, by two guards. They took a vine from an official and tied it around Luc’s waist, then tied it to a stone anchor in the center of the stage. If he turned to slice it during the fight, the veteran would cut him to pieces. He would be forced to fight until one was declared the victor. I leaned against a stone wall and crossed my arms. Luc had always been a good fighter. He had bested the captain once. He’d bested me just as often as I’d bested him. There was a chance he would survive this last trial and be sacrificed tomorrow. It all depended on how good the veteran was.
I heard boos from the crowd that had gathered as the guards made sure the knots were secure. All had heard of what Luc had done. Some voices called for the vine around his waist to be tied so tightly he couldn’t breathe. Others called that he shouldn’t be allowed to carry a weapon so his death would be quick. I was silent. The gods would decide what way Luc would die. No comments would alter that path.
My actions that night remained hidden from the public eye. Murder was what Luc was charged with. Even if people knew, I still wouldn’t have been slated to go on that stage. To fight to the death on red-stained stone. The stage was cleaned after every combat. It wouldn’t be fair to the opponent should they slip in another prisoner’s blood. The battle was already unfair on its own. Only a noble warrior would be able to survive.
The veteran came out, fully dressed in his quilted bodysuit and wooden helmet. The people gathered broke into cheers, but I wasn’t cheering with them. The veteran, a jaguar from his carved helmet and spotted body suite, moved onto the stage and spun his club around his hand. I suddenly knew Luc wouldn’t survive long. The captain hadn’t been able to do that.
A guard came forth and presented Luc with a club. Luc took it deliberately, keeping an eye on the seats around him. Was his expression hatred or fear? I couldn’t tell. He turned a fraction and caught my eye. His gaze was stone, a look I understood.
“Goodbye, Brother,” I mouthed before turning away from the fight
It'll be a little less nitpicky than the previous one because I think I took care of most of the nitpicks there.
I'm going to have to be kind of picky here as from reading through I can't see anything that jumps to mind, this is very well written and I thought you described the fight scene brilliantly 
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