Sybasi Clan

It was a comfortable early morning, although the word might not do justice to the warmth it brought to the former street rat. He slept soundly between Ai and his gram. Dem sat up suddenly; his head turned toward the tent's only entrance. "We have company," he said loud enough to wake his dosu.

Ai slipped silently from the bed and padded to the door. "Is someone there?"

"Rave from the Frostridge Clan. Please forgive the early intrusion."

Ai frowned at the name. Dem had briefed the family when he returned; the actions of the Frostridge Clan had placed both him and Huntmaster Dern in danger. "It's too early, Frostridge. My family has not yet broken fast."

"I will return in a few hours," Rave spoke in a curt tone that implied her feelings were hurt. "My apologies, Swiftwind."

Ai ignored the looks her mom and Gram gave her as she stomped back to the bed and reinserted herself under the thick furs. "First, she keeps Dem up all night; then she shows up before we are even out of bed! I'm not impressed with this person..."

Dem yawned sleepily and closed his eyes. Ai was the one who got everyone up, but for some reason, she decided they needed extra rest.

After breaking fast and helping with the morning chores, both Dem and Ai were turned loose to enjoy themselves. Young people were encouraged to interact with their counterparts from other clans during the gathering. Ai went to find Tam while Dem decided to practice Sybasi.

Despite the windless day, with nary a cloud in sight, the mid-morning air felt brisker than it should have. Dem found a large flat rock overlooking the Swiftwind herds and started doing easy exercises. At the Sybasi school, every class period would start this way. The movements were slow and steady, starting out easy before progressing to the point where it was necessary to shed layers.

Shirtless, with his black dagger in one hand, Dem began the five stages of defense from the neutral position. After several repetitions, he reset and steadied his breathing. His recovery from being injured was progressing faster than he would have guessed.

"Dasai?" Ai's voice called to him.

Dem turned to see Ai and Tam sitting on the edge of the flat rock. He smiled in greeting and motioned them to join him. "I can show you a few things."

Ai grinned and jumped to her feet. "What was that you were doing? It looked like one of the tribal dances."

"It was the five stages of defense from the neutral position." Dem waited until they were both standing in front of him. "Sybasi knife fighting was first developed to defend a sword with your offhand, effectively freeing up the main hand for a kill strike. From there, it evolved into its own art form." He repeated the words his Sybasi instructor spoke. "Defense is always learned first."

"Why?" Ai asked. She shed her outer layers and waited patiently.

"You saw for yourself during my spar with Tier and Reyka; most people are clueless on how to defend themselves with a blade, but they probably understand enough to inflict wounds."

Ai nodded. Anyone could stab and slash, but Dem had made them look like children playing with sticks. "Looks like we have company, dasai."

Dem turned to find Yanz, Dern, and two young clan members named Nola and Biruk. "Is this a coincidence?"

Huntmaster Dern shook his head. "I want to see firsthand what you have to offer. If it's something useful, we will push ahead and teach everyone.

"Of course. Distance yourselves two meters apart. We will begin by working on defending from the neutral or passive stance." An hour later, Dem wrapped up the impromptu training and opened the session up for questions.

Yanz raised his hand immediately. "We touched on the neutral or passive stance; how many stances are there?"

"Counting neutral, there are three," Dem replied. "The other two are called advantage and retreat, but you can break them down as either moving forward or backing away."

Dern wiped the sweat from his brow and took a drink from his canteen while he considered the training. "Why not learn them all at the same time?"

"Blocking, parrying, and body position vary with each stance. In the retreat stance, your weight is on the rear foot, increasing the range between you and your opponent. While this is the safest stance from a defensive standpoint, it offers little in the way of offense." Dem grinned suddenly. "Sybasi fighting is one step at a time, master defense from the neutral position, and you can hold off someone much better than you."

Unexpectedly, Dern bowed low. "Well done, Dem. How many can you instruct at once?"

"Twelve should be optimum," Dem replied.

Nora raised her hand, Dem had seen her around, but they had never spoken. "When do we learn offensive skills?"

"After mastering defense from all three stances. The reason behind this is simple, the person across from you will be your sparring partner. To ensure safety, your defense must be more advanced than their offense." Dem understood that everyone wants to learn stab and slash. "If possible, everyone should bring two of the round-tipped serving knives that I used against Tier and Reyka."

Tam produced a large canteen, stained purple around the corked stopper. "I brought some highberry."

Dem watched as the canteen was passed from Tam to Ai. Highberry was a red fruit that tasted bitter when eaten from the tree. Oddly enough, when mixed with water, the taste became more flavorful and sweet. He had shared some with Telo when they were following the clans. He tipped the canteen back, taking a long cool drink.

"Dem!" A voice called from the meadow that the flatrock overlooked. A familiar girl waved to the group before approaching.

Yena walked up the steep path; her red hair was tied with a top pony that exposed freckled skin, somewhat tan but much lighter than most tribals. She smiled at the two older girls.

"Hey, Yena," Ai nodded politely. The three of them shared a meal together, and Yena managed to make a lasting impression on the two of them. "My dasai was teaching us knife fighting."

Yena wrinkled her nose slightly. "I would have been here sooner, but I was bearing witness."

Tam noticed Dem's confused expression, so she enlightened him. "When you return from Masaat, you are required to share a single story from each month you were gone. The entire clan bears witness."

Yena nodded. "This was his first story. He's telling a second one tonight and has invited the three of you."

Ai shared a glance with Tam. It was a friendly gesture to invite outsiders to bear witness. "If my dasai goes, then so will I."

Tam nodded in agreement before looking at Dem for confirmation.

"What time will his story begin?" Dem asked.

"Sundown, after the evening meal." Yena looked down at her feet, her freckled face blushing slightly. "Would you walk with me, Dem?"

"Sure," Dem smiled politely.

Around the perimeter of the Clan gathering was a well-worn path that marked a traditional part of social interaction. Pairs and small groups would 'walk' together, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Mostly the groups were mixed in gender, but asking someone of the opposite gender to walk with you carried expectations. At least that's what the older generation thought; Tam and Ai were both of the opinions that it wasn't a big deal.

Yena slowed her step, smiling happily while answering Dem's questions. She relayed the finer parts of Telo's first story. Do you think he made it up? It's traditional to embellish small parts."

Telo told his clan about his arrival in Thaigmaal a year earlier. Apparently, he was pickpocketed by a beautiful street urchin who he chased half the night through the back alleys of the city's underbelly. In the end, the thief dropped his coin purse but not before taking a good portion of them.

"Hmm... Hard to say," Dem replied. "I know a few female pickpockets, but they aren't old enough to fit the story. He was probably pickpocketed, but it definitely wouldn't have been done by a beautiful woman."

Yena laughed at his reply. "He has half the boys in the clan looking forward to getting robbed."

Dem chuckled at the idea. "Thaig is the place to go for that."

They stopped at the entrance of the Redfox clan; Yena smiled sweetly at the street rat. "Thank you for walking with me, Dem."

Dem returned her smile. "I enjoyed it. I'll see you at sundown."

"I'll save the three of you a good seat."

Dem frowned suddenly, his gaze turning east. "We have visitors; return to your family tent."

Yena nodded and immediately broke into a trot, leaving Dem alone for a moment before he headed toward the visitors.

A group of riders dismounted and walked their horses toward the nearest clan, which happened to be Swiftwind Clan. Huntmaster Dern and the Swiftwind Shaman met the guests, two women, and three men.

A lean, brown-haired man with pale, pock-marked features forced a smile as he faced the Swiftwind Huntmaster. "Are you the Clan Leader?"

Dern shook his head slightly. "I am Huntmaster Dern, our Clan Leader is on a two-day hunt. Why have you approached the Clan Gathering."

Although tribals didn't interact much with city dwellers, both had a basic awareness of the other. The gathering was something that most non-tribal adults would recognize.

"I am Captain Rubai; we are hunters from Thaigmaal."

Dern held his spear in one hand; it was tilted slightly toward the person speaking, an obvious warning. "Hunters? Why are you here?"

"A few miles from here, an ancient city has risen out of the desert! It is said to be filled with priceless treasures." Rubai paused for effect, believing that his words would interest Dern, but the Huntmaster's bronzed face was void of expression.

"That has nothing to do with us," Dern tightened his grip on his spear, his sharp eyes taking in the small group. One had a bow slung over her shoulder, but the rest carried only daggers.

"Of course not," Rubai repied. "We've ridden for several days and request 'trail rights' before continuing our journey."

"Trail rights..." Dern glanced at the Swiftwind Shaman before giving a slight nod. Trail rights was a tribal tradition where they would offer a meal to weary travelers who requested it. "You may take respite here, as long as you conduct yourselves accordingly."

"Yada!" Dern called to the tent where Dem's family lived. Yada, or Yadi, as she was sometimes referred to, was the head of their small family. The middle-aged woman had long black hair, with only a few streaks of gray showing. Her attractive face and lithe form made her seem decades younger than she was.

Yada approached a moment later, a heavy iron pot held in one hand and several bowls in the other. She handed the bowls to Rubai and sat the iron pot on the packed ground. "Welcome, travelers," she smiled politely as she removed the lid and began ladling stew into the bowls.

The members of the squad accepted their fare silently until Yada approached the first female.

The black-dressed hunter pulled down her mask, smiling at the tribal woman. "I'm Matrea, thank..."

Her words were interrupted when the scalding hot stew was thrown into her face; a moment later, the heavy pot slammed against the side of her head, knocking her to the ground.

Matrea rolled free, her hand reaching for the dagger at her belt. Before she touched her weapon, she screamed in pain when an arrow sunk deep into her shoulder. Clutching at her wounded shoulder, she was unable to dodge the iron pot that struck her in the forehead with enough force to bounce her head off the ground.

"STOP!" Rubai reached for his dagger, while Dern created distance between them before leveling his spear at the group. Within seconds, a dozen more spears were brandished.

Everyone seemed to freeze in place; Matrea lay motionless on the ground while Ai pointed her bow at the wounded woman's companions.

"You will have to leave," the Swiftwind Shaman gestured toward Matrea. "This woman cannot stay here; we have a blood feud with her."

"You have a blood feud with Matrea?" Rubai scowled at the white-painted shaman. "How is that possible? Someone bring her to the horses." He didn't need a keen sense of danger to know that they were about to be torn apart. Every passing moment saw more spears and bows pointed toward them. "This is a misunderstanding."

Yada shook her fist at the woman that was being helped to her feet by two of her companions. "You better not show your face here again!" The veins on her forehead were showing; she remembered the woman from Dem's blood rite. She spat on the ground, still holding the iron pot like a weapon.

Rubai held his hands outward in a peaceful gesture. "I was unaware that Matrea offended your clan. We will withdraw peacefully."

"You can't let them go." A rail-thin boy wearing a yurka spoke from behind the group. "They will not let the matter rest like this."

Dern noted the disguise and the open hostility that Ai and Yada were showing toward the wounded city dweller. "What do you mean?"

"You have my word; we will leave in peace," Rubai repeated his previous sentence.

"No doubt, that's true," Dem admitted. "But they will hunt on the fringes, killing a few tribals until their grudge is sated."

Rubai frowned at the young tribal. That's exactly what they were going to do. He felt suddenly that his small group might not survive the day. Somehow, everything hinged on the newcomer's words. "What is your name?"

"Dem Swiftwind," he answered since it was a name unknown to any outside his clan. "You have at least three Sybasi fighters among you. We can settle this in the circle." He pointed to Yada and Ai. "The ones who attacked are my mother and dosu. I will represent them."

Rubai stared opened-mouthed for a moment before exchanging a glance with the male who remained at his side. "Sully?"

Sully smiled suddenly, an expression that didn't extend to his icy blue eyes. "You know of the Sybasi circle?"

"Yes," Dem replied. He gestured toward Ai. "Would you draw a circle, dosu? Ten strides across will do."

"Very well," Rubai retreated a few steps. "We are content to settle this conflict in the Sybasi tradition. No matter the result, we will part without ill intent."

Dern nodded in agreement and backed away. "Lower your weapons; they will be allowed to leave peacefully after this is resolved."

"Dasai..." The Swiftwind Shaman sighed as she helped Dem remove his shirt. She took a moment to paint the Swiftwind symbol on his chest. "Fighting again?"

"Sorry, dosu." Dem didn't point out that it was his adopted family that started it.

The painted woman studied the young street rat. He seemed much more relaxed than he should have been. "Will you be okay, dasai?"

Dem nodded. "Anything can happen, but did you note the handle of his blade?"

The shaman glanced toward Sully; the man had removed his shirt and was brandishing his blade while his feet moved in what looked like an elaborate dance. "It's silver?"

"Silver means he is a mid-ranked Sybasi fighter." Dem held out his blade, which was black. "This color means high-ranked."

The shaman's eyes narrowed. "Didn't you take that from someone?"

"Of course. That's how you advance ranks." Dem gripped her shoulder. "I will be fine, dosu."

Rubai had his group's horses brought closer. Matrea sat slumped over, her shoulder was bandaged, and one side of her head was swollen badly. "We'll leave immediately afterward. Be ready for anything."

Normally, other clans would hesitate to enter another's compound uninvited, but given the possible danger to the gathering, a large contingent of Frostridge, Whitehill, Redfox, and Bearclaw had come.

Taigon Frostridge stood next to his daughter, watching as the two combatants stood outside a circle that Ai Swiftwind had drawn. "I heard he was teaching this knife-fighting style earlier today."

Reyka nodded her focus on the man facing Dem. He had a lean, muscular build and moved with deadly agility. "We should stop this, Father."

Taigon held the same opinion, but he kept his own council. "This is a Swiftwind feud; we are only here to ensure the outsiders leave peacefully."

Dem stood at the edge of the circle, his focus on the person across from him. "Let the circle decide."

Sully nodded and stepped over the line. "Let the circle decide," he replied.

Dem crouched low; although he appeared to be in a neutral stance, he had lifted his heels the barest amount off the ground, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet. If Matrea were paying closer attention, she would recognize the stance as an advanced advantage position.

Sully smiled slightly; starting a match in the neutral stance was very conservative. He was going to comment when he noticed his opponent's weapon. "A black blade? Where did you find that?"

"It's mine," Dem answered. His opponent flashed toward him, thinking to catch him off guard. The street rat let the fight come forward, waiting until Sully moved within range.

Dem sprang forward, ducking low; he deflected Sully's blade to one side and stepped under it. Continuing the movement, his arm extended while his forward leg moved behind his opponent's feet. With a deft movement, he hooked Sully's ankle, stopping him from retreating as his blade entered the small space above the chest at the base of the throat. Sully landed flat on his back, his eyes wide open in shock as blood frothed at the corners of his mouth. He died in silence, staring up at the blue sky.

Dem retrieved the silver blade and tucked it into his belt. He bowed respectively and left the circle without speaking.

Rubai stared at Sully's corpse for a moment; too late, he realized that the tribal wasn't in the neutral stance. "This is the circle's will. We will retrieve our dead and honor the agreement."

"This is the circle's will," Dem answered since he was the only one who knew the correct response. "It is settled."