Into this silence Phonzy's quiet "No" fell like a thunderclap.
The silence held for another instant and then Magdar roared in anger, his long-handled blade flashing in the firelight as he drew it. Phonzy drew his own and their blades met with the ringing of steel on steel.
The warriors around the circle stood fast and the night was filled with the clash of metal, the grunting of straining men, the hiss of breath as blades drew blood.
Magdar's sword flashed and danced in the light. Thon's bladework was that of a craftsman, efficient, measured, accurate.
He stepped inside Magdar's guard and crashed the hilt of his sword into his brother's face. Magdar fell, tripping over Phonzy's outstretched leg. His sword fell from his hand.
Phonzy, his blade held close to Magdar's throat, bent and picked up the fallen sword in his left hand. He looked to the Elder.
"My 'No' remains," he said.
There was a pause as Magdar got to his feet and looked to his father.
The Elder looked at Phonzy and slowly nodded his head. Phonzy nodded in answer and turned to leave the circle.
"No," shouted Magdar and drew his short knife to strike at Phonzy's back.
Phonzy whirled around. His blade slashed a deep cut across Magdar's chest, blood flowing freely from the wound.
The long-handled sword sliced through skin, through sinew and muscle and lodged in the bone just below the shoulder of Magdar's right arm.
Magdar's knife fell from lifeless fingers and he dropped to his knees.
Phonzy stood, looking at the Elder.
"You have proven your case, Phonzy of the River," the Elder said. "You have the right of this."
After a pause he continued, "but you can no longer share the fire of this people. Go now. Go with your honor known and remembered."
Phonzy nodded, sadness clear in his young face. He freed the blade from Magdar's arm and cast his own to the ground.
The warriors opened the circle and he moved through them to gather his belongings. Of the Maid, when they thought to look, there was no sign.
The Storyteller brought his tale to an end and the people sat in silence for a time before, one by one, they left the fire for the dark and the warmth of their tents.
