Sat had about a week until her next fight. She practiced a lot, to get out the aches of pain in her thigh. She had a huge, knotted scar on her right thigh, which was slowly turning silver as it healed. It was lumpy and disturbing, and Sat tried to ignore it.
She thought back on how she fought the Nithlings. The silver coating on her blades was probably why she wasn't dead right now.
Sat was just proficient at other weapons. She was best at her sickles. And she would use that to her advantage.
The next day there would be an unofficial practice match between her house, House d'Orpheus, and its rival house, House of the Crimson Banner.
It would be a Gift of Mercy fight, where no one was killed, and minimal maiming. Sat wanted to practice against someone new, someone whose tactics she did not know.
So Sat was to fight Marta. Marta was tall, in the customary red of the Crimson Banner. The Crimson Banner fighters had red shields and standards; the House d'Orpheus had a brown lyre superimposed on a white ground.
Marta was tall and tanned, in a red tunic and dyed leather breeches. She wore knee high boots, also in the crimson of her house.
Marta was friendly, if a bit gruff. The first thing she did when she met Sat was to shake her hand with her callused fingers. Her grip was strong and sure.
Sat's hand was sweaty from the heat and excitement.
Marta and Sat circled each other warily. Marta's long sword hung easily from her muscled arms. Sat's sickles were folded into the handles. Marta made the first move, a deadly lunge with her sword.
The sword bounced off Sat's sickle handles, which were held in an "X" position. Sat knocked the sword away.
With a twist of her wrist, the sickle blades popped from the little slots in the handles. Sat parried Marta's attacks. She sent her blades whistling towards Marta's head.
Marta, ducked, and her blade knocked against the sickles, jarring Sat's arms. Her clenched teeth ached from the impact.
With a few quick thrusts, Sat had Marta's long sword caught between her sickles. And with a joint-wrenching pull and a quick twist of the arms, Marta's sword flew out of her hands and onto the ground.
Sat grinned with triumph and picked up Marta's sword.
"Good match", she said to Marta, handing the sword over.
Marta smiled. "You are very skilled, I envy your speed."
"Well, maybe we can fight next time", suggested Sat.
"I'm fighting Zenith next week. There's little chance of that."
"Zenith?" Sat was surprised. Zenith was the champion of all the houses of the Upper House. "I'm sorry…" It was turning awkward now.
"No need to feel pity for me. What the Architect has planned must come". Marta's smile was fading, turning into a scowl. She turned on her heel and strode away, her long legs moving her farther and farther away from Sat.
Sat pursed her lips, and she too walked away.
The next week, Zenith beat everyone set against her. Zenith was the champion and no one could stop her.
Sat tried to forget Marta and her friendliness. It was hard.
But, after all, a fighter must lose her friends. It was just a part of life.
Sat felt that way until Madame Roisoeur announced that she was to fight Zenith in a month's time.
When Sat asked about it, Madame Roisoeur said that the annual championship match called for the champion of all the houses versus someone from each house. Roisoeur explained that she could not afford to lose her best fighter and that Sat was expendable. Therefore, it would be fine if Sat was killed.
Sat was dismayed. But then, if she could beat Zenith, then she might win her freedom from the arena.