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The woman stood silent, hands resting lightly on her hips.
You think you re quite the fighter, don t you, One-eye?
I get by.
If you want to get by in this House, then live by its rules. No magic is
used against another of your color except in practice.
And the rights of my satchel and my property are to be respected. That man
is my property.
Hammen snorted disdainfully and fixed Garth with a malevolent gaze.
He s the one who killed Okmark in that street fight, someone shouted from
the back of the room.
He was a fool to challenge a hanin that he didn t know anything about and the
death challenge was his offering, not mine, Garth replied sharply. Besides,
he was an embarrassment to the House of Fentesk.
An angry murmur swept through the room.
I think I need to take a walk, Hammen whispered, and he started to stand up.
Stay where you are, Garth snapped, and Hammen froze in his place.
I heard you beat Naru, the woman said.
Yes.
Think you can beat me?
He looked up at her and grinned.
Care to try?
With a mock sincerity she bowed, holding both hands outward in the ritual
display of a fighter accepting challenge.
Garth made a show of cutting another piece of meat and chewing on it before
finally standing up, extending his hands and bowing as well.
The woman led the way out of the feasting hall, Garth following. There was a
clatter of stools and excited shouts as the other fighters fell in behind
them. Ascending the stairs out of the hall, the woman turned left, going down
a corridor paneled with a dark rich wood, and lit by high stained glass
windows set into the ceiling so that the hallway was awash with color.
Reaching the end of the hallway, she flung open the doors to a circular room a
dozen fathoms across, the walls lined with benches, which were quickly filled
by the other fighters of the house. The arena was occupied by half a dozen
fighters, who were going through their morning exercises of weapons practice
with lance, dagger, and throwing spikes.
At the far end of the room several other pairs of fighters were sparring with
spells, one of them struggling to use a team of goblins against his opponent s
dwarven warriors.
Clear the arena, the woman snapped.
The sparring fighters looked up and an instant later their minions disappeared
into smoke and they withdrew.
The woman stepped out into the circle.
Rules of the House. No fire, no creature of disease, and no spell which can
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go out of control or damage the House.
Is this match a mere testing, a wager of spell, or to the death? Garth asked
as if the answer really didn t matter one way or the other.
You know the answer to that, she snapped. Unless we have permission of the
Master, it can only be a testing.
Well, do you have the Master s permission?
She smiled softly.
Not yet.
Then a testing.
Garth stepped into the neutral box at the far end of the arena while his
opponent stepped into hers.
Garth waited until another fighter stepped forward as circle master and held
his hands up.
The two bowed to him, then to eat other, and then back to the circle master.
He clapped his hands three times and on the third clap jumped back. Like a
panther the woman leaped into the arena and, as she did so, Garth reeled from
the impact of a psionic blast that flayed the strength out of his body. He
staggered forward, knowing that the spell was so powerful that it would in
fact harm her as well, though the damage he would receive was far worse.
An approving crying of awed respect rose up from the spectators at the
audacity of her move.
Garth finally waved his hands, erecting a barrier of protection to block the
attack, thus conceding the offensive to her. Within seconds she drew upon yet
more mana and wolves appeared to either side of her and a small host of
goblins materialized in the middle of the arena. All rushed toward him.
An icy shadow filled the middle of the arena and there was a great rushing of
air and a loud trumpeting.
A great mammoth stood in the middle of the fray, its feet trampling down the
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