Free Sword Sworn-Sword Dancer 6 by Jennifer Roberson

worth."
    We weren't close enough for me to see the color burning in his face, but I could tell I'd gotten to him.
    His body stiffened, hands tightening on the reins. His horse shifted nervously and joggled his head, trying
    to ease the pressure on his mouth. Metal bit shanks and rings clinked.
    And what are you worth?" he asked sharply. "You declared elai i -ali-ma."
    "Oh, I am lower than the lowest of the low," I replied. "I am foulness incarnate. I am dishonor
    embodied. You'll soil your blade with my blood."
    He grinned, showing white teeth against a dark face. "But blood washes off. Righteousness does
    not." Abruptly he raised his voice, addressing the crowd. "Hear me!" he shouted. "This man is the
    Sandtiger, who once was a seventh-level sword-dancer sworn to uphold the honor codes and sacred
    traditions of Alimat. But he repudiated them, his shodo, and all of his brethren. It is our right to punish
    him for this, and today I willingly accept the honor of this task. I call on every man here to witness the
    death of an oath-breaker!"
    I sighed, looping one rein over the stud's neck as I extended the other to Del. "You talk too much,
    Khashi."
    Stung, but still focused on the task, he hooked his right leg over his horse's neck, kicked his left foot
    clear of stirrup, and jumped down, throwing reins toward one of the boys. There were clusters of them
    lining the shop walls, and merchants and customers spilled out of doorways. The street was a canyon of
    staring faces. "Then we shall stop talking," he said, "and fight."
    Unlike the stupid kid in Haziz, Khashi knew the difference between dance and fight. He stripped off
    burnous, sandals, and harness, wearing only the customary soft suede dhoti underneath, and set them
    aside. He did not pause to draw a circle, or to invite me to draw it, because there would be none. Lithely
    graceful, he strode forward, sword in hand.
    I heard the simultaneous intake of breath from the impromptu audience as I stepped off the stud. I
    did not strip out of harness, burnous, or sandals. I simply unsheathed without excess dramatics and
    walked to meet my challenger in the middle of the street, six paces away.
    He smiled, assessing his opponent. The infamous Sandtiger, but also an older, aging man who was
    too foolish to rid himself of such things as would impede his movements. I had given the advantage to the
    younger challenger.
    Which is why he laughed incredulously as I halted within his reach.
    I did nothing more than wait. After a moment's hesitation— perhaps unconsciously expecting the
    traditional command to dance that wouldn't come—Khashi flicked up his sword and obliged with the
    first move.
    I obliged by countering the blow, and another, and a third, and a fourth, turning his blade away. I
    offered no offense, only defense. I conserved strength, while Khashi spent his.
    Though we did not stand within a circle and thus were not required to remain within a fixed area, lest
    we lose by stepping outside the boundary, we'd both spent too many years honoring the codes and
    rituals. There was no dramatic leaping and running and rolling. It was a swordfighter's version of
    toe-to-toe battle, lacking elegance, ritual, the precision of expertise despite our training. We simply stood
    our ground, aware of the mental circle despite the lack of a physical one, and fought.
    It was, as always, noisy. Steel slammed into steel, scraped, tore away, screamed, shrieked, chimed.
    Breath ran harshly through rigid throats and issued hissing from our mouths. Grunts and gasps of effort
    overrode the murmuring of the spectators, the low verbal thrum of excitement.
    I countered yet another blow, threw the blade back at him with main strength. I felt a twinge in my
    right hand, and another in my left wrist. The hilt shifted slightly in my hands.
    All of the things Del and I had discussed had indeed become factors: The loss of a finger on each
    hand did affect my grip, and that, in turn, affected wrists,