"HEY! GET BACK HERE!"

Torin was already flying down the field, astride a galloping horse. Kitar was now trailing him, his last bands now stolen. Torin still felt like he would fall off the beast at any moment, despite having learned how to ride years prior. Qet-Šavaq men were practically born on horseback, and Torin was a Qet-Šavaq man now - albeit quite an odd one. Somewhat aptly for a Sasnak, he had taken to the Qet-Šavaq lifestyle like a fish out of water.

And yet, here he was six years later, teaching his brothers in law and best friends that most excellent of Sasnak traditions: Taklah-Mat. The Armband Game. Ordinarily, this would take place on bamboo boats, but this was deemed almost immediately a terrible idea; None of his friends or brothers could swim. While this left Torin completely dumbfounded (he ensured that both of his children with Vatina - and the third one on the way - would at the very least know how not to drown), he was nothing if not adaptable. So here they all were, atop horses and clad in linothorax, sleeves, chaps, and war crowns. Chasing after each other with batons and attempting to nab each other's armbands.

And now, Torin was bearing down on Wusitin. Just two spans left... One...

Clack! Clack! Clack!

They were sparring batons with each other in mock combat - horses side by side! Torin reached out to try to make a grab the armband, but Wusitin pulled back and gave Torin a clack on the wristguard as punishment. Torin winced - wristguards prevented breaks, but it still stung

Clack! Clack! Clack!

Wusitin was grinning. Torin was grimacing.

Clack! Clack! Clack!

Torin made another lunge with the baton, and Wusitin dodged nimbly out of the way! This was where Torin was clumsiest - when he couldn't use his hands. Torin wobbled on his horse, and Wusitin kicked the flank of Torin's horse, separating them and driving him away farther. He was emulating a maneuver that Kitar tried on him earlier in the game, to make a grab at his armband. Torin also had wrapped the bands of the four other players around his wrist. If Wusitin got those, he would only have to get Rami's bands and he would win! As he executed the maneuver, Torin had a second to catch his breath and centre himself, to take stock of his situation. To figure out how he was going to prevent this.

There were only three players with bands left: Torin, Rani, and Wusitin. The others had given up, Kitar now trudging his way back to them. The game's rules permitted them to reclaim their bands and potentially win, but it was such a tiring sport. And in such warm clothing and hot weather Torin could not blame them for accepting loss - he was drenched in sweat too. Over there three women were watching. Katin, who was Rani's wife, was sitting next to Vatina. Fair Vatina. And over there was the rādežut's aide, Warina, who continued to insist she was only here for when one of the men inevitably got hurt, but Torin could see she was enjoying it. No time for that now - Wusitin was pulling in close! Torin had an idea.

Torin was the smallest of his cadre as the Sasnak figure was generally shorter and leaner. But he had garnered a reputation of boldness and toughness... bordering on madness. The elders said that this is what happens when you spend too long at sea - utter insanity. It was those admonishments that echoed in his head as, very carefully, Torin came to his feet crouched on the horse's back. He had his hand on the horse for some semblance of balance, but he could do this.

Wusitin drew closer and closer - he was riding with eyes ahead, not on Torin! Torin took a deep breath as he drew closer, within leaping distance, and finally Wusitin turned his head to look at his mark! Suddenly flying towards him!

CLACK! Clackclack!whumwhumwhumwhumwhumwhum...

Torin's world did somersaults as they rolled to a stop. They both had sprawled out on the ground, their horses still galloping past. Torin came to his feet first and tackled Wusitin again. In a pure contest of strength, Torin would lose this wrestling match, but he made rash grabs for the armbands. He managed to claw the armbands from Wusitin's hands and arm and extricate himself before Wusitin knew what was happening, now hobbling away as fast as he could with a grin plastered on his face! His leg throbbed, but he didn't put much weight on it as he jumped along. He glanced behind him, to see Wusitin chasing after him... and Rani behind them both!

How convenient!

Just as Wusitin was about to catch up to Torin, Torin stopped short and Wusitin charged past. This was something Torin's brothers - his Sasnak brothers - taught him, to dive off a ti-rass just as someone was about to catch up. And then he turned and hurled his baton at Rani.

Crack! Whump.

It was less that Torin knocked Rani off, and more that Rani had flinched far enough that he toppled himself off. No matter! Torin whooped and ran after him, Wusitin now laughing and slowing down as Torin grabbed Rami's armbands, raising them all in the air with victory! And then promptly collapsed himself.

His leg was suddenly screaming. He was writhing in pain on the ground. But he still had a grin on his face.

Rani got up with a scowl, and said, "You utter buffoon! Serves you right," as he removed his war crown.

Wusitin was still laughing as he drew near, "You glorious idiot! You madman! You pirate, ahah!" But then his face fell upon seeing his brother in law in pain, "what's wrong?"

Torin's grin had turned into a grit-teeth grimace, and he grunted out, "Leg sprained. Still won."

Rani tutted, and with a frown said, "Still serves you right. Let's get you to Warina."

They both helped him to his feet as Warina and Vatina and Katin walked closer, and carried him between them as they hopped along. Warina was already rolling her eyes and preparing lecture. He'd probably get another stern talking to from the rādežut herself... and then Vatina. It was totally worth it, though. The boys would probably be talking about this one for years to come!