It was the wrong thing to say. Everyagacinstiffened or frowned, affronted by the accusation.
Clan Wolf’satamanraised an eyebrow. “Not according to the Fire Council. They have claimed her as one of their own.” He turned his attention back to Azarion. “We recognize your claim and the blessing, but it’s only enough if Karsas agrees to step down and relinquish his place asataman.” He looked to Karsas. “Do you relinquish?”
Karsas crossed his arms. “No.”
It was no less than Azarion expected and everything he’d hoped for before entering theqara. “Then I demand the right to ritual combat to reclaim the role from Karsas, son of Gastene.”
A wave of whispers and murmurs rolled through theqaraas the chieftains and witnesses gathered bent their heads to comment to each other.
Theatamanof Clan Wolf settled a hard stare on Karsas. “Do you accept or decline,Atamanof Clan Kestrel? If you decline, you relinquish.”
This time Karsas openly sneered at Azarion. “I accept.”
“Then as the challenged, you may choose first blood or death.”
A hush filled theqara. Karsas had no real choice despite the options given. If he chose first blood, he would survive, but the Savatar viewed such a choice as cowardly. He’d lose face with his clan, and the clan itself would lose even more status in the confederation. Sooner or later, he’d face another challenger and another after that, or else be found dead of some mysterious illness that struck no one else in his household.
Karsas was sly and murderous but not a fool. “I choose death,” he announced.
Clan Wolf’satamanturned to Azarion. “Do you accept the terms?”
Finally. Ten years after hard struggle and patient resolve... “I accept,” he said.
Theatamansgathered closer together to discuss among themselves for a few moments. When they finished, they all stood. Theatamanacting as spokesman turned to the Fire Council. “Does the Fire Council approve the challenge and the terms of combat?”
Theata-agacinstood as well. “We approve on both counts.”
Azarion exhaled.
“You have today and this evening to make your sacrifices and appeal to the gods for their mercy.” Theatamannodded to both Azarion and Karsas. “Tomorrow, at noon, you fight.”
A huge crowd had gathered outside theqara, curious as to the meeting’s outcome. Karsas shoved his way through the throng toward hisqara, his face a thundercloud.
Azarion allowed the clans to swarm around him, answering their questions repeatedly as to what theatamanssaid and when the combat to decide the chieftainship would take place. The time for judgment regarding his ability to lead began now. Those who questioned him also gauged his behavior among them, deciding whether to remain neutral in this affair, offer him their support, or withhold it in favor of Karsas.
The light had waned by the time he returned to theqarawhere his mother, sister, and Gilene awaited him.
Tamura didn’t waste time with questions. “You should practice after we eat. We can ride out from the encampment to a less crowded place. You can fight me. If you ask, I’m sure our uncle would sneak away to join us as well. It’s been a long time since you’ve fought a Savatar, and you aren’t as good on horseback as Karsas anymore.”
Saruke hushed her and passed a wooden plate filled with food to Azarion. “I think his time fighting as a gladiator has prepared him well enough for this battle, on horseback or not.”
“She’s right,Ani,” he said and accepted the plate with a nod of thanks. “I’ve ridden as much as possible since I came back, but ten years out of a saddle before that puts me at a disadvantage.” He winked at Tamura. “The trick will be to get Karsas off his horse.”
“Then we’ll practice that,” she declared. “I’ll enjoy knocking you to the ground a few times. Revenge for when you pulled my braids when we were children.”
They all laughed, even Gilene, and Azarion was grateful to Tamura, dour as she was, for keeping the conversation lighthearted. He’d have to be blind not to see the worry in her eyes orthe fear in Saruke’s. They had grieved his death once; they didn’t want to do it again.
After supper, Saruke studied him and Gilene for a moment before ordering Tamura to accompany her to a friend’sqarafor a visit.
Tamura gaped at her. “Now,Ani?”
Saruke wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and strode to theqara’s threshold, an impatient scowl creasing her face. “Are you doing anything other than warming your feet by the fire?”
The younger woman grumbled but did as her mother bade. Azarion heard the two of them bickering as they walked away. He turned to Gilene, who dried the last of their dishware and set it aside.
“You brought me the luck I sought,” he said. “I knew you would.”
She refilled his cup with hot tea from the small pot simmering on the cooking brazier. “Is it luck? Tomorrow you fight to the death. It would have been better if Karsas had chosen first blood, don’t you think? Your mother and sister fear for you.”
