Tavi pressed up against his aunt and uncle for a moment and felt the tears in his eyes. He leaned against them and hugged them back. "I'm all right," he heard himself saying. "It's all right. I'm all right."

Isana laughed and kissed his hair, his cheek. "Fade," she said. "Thank the furies. You're all right."

After a moment, Amara said, "Bernard, they're not looking. If we rush the hordemaster now, we can get to the knife."

"No!" Tavi said, hurriedly. He freed himself from the embrace, looking at the Cursor. "No, you can't. Doroga explained this to me. It's a duel. You have to let him have it."

Amara looked at him sharply. "What duel?"

"What knife?"

Amara frowned. "The knife proves one of the High Lords is behind this attack. We can catch him, if we recover it, and keep him from doing something like this again. What duel?"

Tavi tried to explain. "Doroga and Atsurak are both headman of their clans. They're equals. Atsurak can't order another clan to follow him as long as their headman stands up to him in a Trial of Blood-a duel, but no one had the courage to stand up to him before now. Doroga has challenged Atsurak's decision to attack us, before all of the rest of the Marat. If he defeats him in the trial, then it breaks Atsurak's power, and the Marat leave."

"Just like that?" Amara demanded.

"Well, yes," Tavi said, defensively. "If Doroga wins, it means that the Marat will understand that The One supports him and not Atsurak."

"The one what?"

"The One," Tavi said. "I think they think it's some kind of fury that lives

in the sun. When they have a big decision, they have a trial before The One. They believe in it completely."

He felt his aunt's hand on his shoulder, and he turned to find her looking down at him earnestly. Her head tilted to one side. "What happened to you?"

"A lot, Auntie."

She smiled, though there was a weary edge to it. "It shows. Are you sure you know what you're saying?"

"Yes ma'am," Tavi said. "I know."

Isana looked at Bernard, who looked at Amara. The Cursor drew in a slow breath, her eyes in turn moving to Tavi. "Tavi," she said, keeping her voice quiet. "Why did Doroga choose now to challenge this Atsurak?"

Tavi swallowed. "Um. Well, it's kind of a long story. I'm not really sure I understand everything that happened myself. Doesn't really matter, does it? If he's here?"

Outside, there were high-pitched whistles sounding, and the frantic howls of the Marat and their beasts had subsided to a low rumble.

"Giraldi?" Amara called up to the battlements. "What's happening?"

"Crows take me," called a panting voice back from the walls above the gates. "The Marat were fighting one another, then they all started blowing whistles and falling back from the fighting. They're drawing into tribes it looks like."

"Thank you, Centurion."

"Countess? Orders?"

"Hold the walls," Amara responded, but her eyes went back to Tavi. "Do not attack unless first attacked."

Tavi nodded to Amara. "This is what Doroga told me would happen. The Marat tribes fight all the time. They're used to it. The whistles are to call a halt to fighting and let the headmen talk."

Bernard blew out a breath and looked at Amara. "What do you think?"

The Cursor reached a hand up and pushed a few loose strands of hair back from her eyes, staring at Tavi. "I think your nephew, here, has managed to learn more about the Marat than the Crown's intelligence service, Stead-holder."

Tavi nodded. "They, uh, eat their enemies. And anyone who shows up without permission is considered to be one." He coughed. "It probably makes it sort of difficult to learn about them."

Amara shook her head. "If we get out of this, I want to know how you

managed to not get eaten and wind up leading a Marat horde of your own to save this valley."

Fade let out a low, apprehensive hoot of warning. Tavi looked at the slave and found him staring intently at the walls.

In the ragged hole in the fortress's walls, shapes stirred. Several riders on horseback, tall Horse Clan Marat, rode in. Tavi recognized Hashat at once, her pale mane flowing, though fresh blood spattered her hair, upper body, and saber arm. Tavi identified her to Amara and his uncle.

"Headman?" Bernard demanded, something in his tone offended. "She's a woman. And she's not wearing a shirt."

Amara let out a low whistle. "Those eagles on her belt are from Royal Guardsman. If they're genuine, she must have been part of the horde that killed Princeps Septimus."

"She's nice enough," Tavi said. "She won't confront Atsurak herself, but she’ll follow Doroga's lead. I think they're friends."

At the gate, the Marat stirred and parted to let the Wolf headman in with a pair of rangy direwolves beside him. A long, clean cut marred the pale skin of his chest, clotted with dark red. The man looked around the courtyard and bared his teeth, showing the long canines of his clan. "Skagara," Tavi supplied. "Wolf Clan headman. He's a bully."

Hashat dismounted and stalked over to stand beside Skagara. She faced him the whole way with a dangerous little smile on her mouth. Skagara took a step back from her when she reached him. Hashat's teeth showed, and she made a point of examining the cut on his chest. Then she turned to face Atsurak and Doroga, folding her arms, one bloodied hand remaining near her saber. Skagara gave her a sullen scowl, then did the same.

Doroga leaned on his cudgel, staring at the ground. Atsurak stood patiently, spear loosely gripped in one hand. Silence and mounting tension reigned for several moments. Only the crows made any noise, a low and steady cawing in the background outside the walls.

"What are they waiting for?" Amara asked Tavi.

"The sun," Tavi said. "Doroga said they always wait for the sun to rise on the results of a trial." He glanced up at the walls, the angle of the shadows there. "I guess they don't think the fight will take very long."

The morning light swept across the courtyard, as the sun rose higher. The line of shadow described by the still-intact walls swept from west to east, toward the two Marat headmen.

Doroga looked up, after a time, to the sunlight where it had barely come to rest on the head of his staff. He nodded, lowered the weapon with a grunt, and advanced on Atsurak.

The Herdbane headman whirled his spear in a loose circle, shrugged his shoulders, and stalked toward Doroga on cat-light feet. He moved swiftly, his spear's tip blurring, as he thrust it at the other Marat, but Doroga parried the blow to one side with the thick shaft of the cudgel, then swept it in a short thrust at Atsurak's head.

Atsurak avoided the blow and whipped the spear's tip toward Doroga's leg. The Gargant headman dodged, but not quickly enough, and a line of bright scarlet appeared on his thigh.

The Marat in the courtyard let out a low murmur. Someone among the Herdbane said something in a grinding tongue, and the warriors let out a rough laugh. A low chatter began between the Herdbane and Wolf present.

"Are they betting on the fight?" Amara asked, incredulous.

Tavi nodded. "Yeah, they do that. Doroga won his daughter betting on me."

"What?"

"Shhhh."

Doroga drew back from the exchange with a grimace and glanced down at his leg. He tried to put his weight on it, but faltered, and he had to swing the staff of the cudgel down to help support him. Atsurak smiled at that and spun his spear around again. He began a slow, deliberate stalk toward Doroga, circling the Gargant headman, forcing him to turn to face his enemy, putting pressure on his wounded leg. Doroga's face twisted with a grimace of pain.

"Tavi," Amara breathed. "What happens if Doroga loses?"

Tavi swallowed, his heart pounding. "Then The One has said that Doroga was wrong. And the rest of the clans follow Atsurak like they would have before."