Renna grunted. ‘Nothin’ in the plan says you can’t stomp him a bit ’fore you finish things.’

‘Mean to,’ Arlen said, stepping forward. ‘Had your moment, Jardir! Hour’s come to answer for your crimes!’

Jardir released Leesha’s arm. ‘We will speak more of this, after.’

‘Only if you win, Ahmann,’ Leesha said. The words cut him deeply, but he embraced the feeling and pushed it aside, turning to stride over to where the Par’chin waited at the centre of the cliff. The sun still bathed the area, and would until it fully set. His crownsight winked out as he left the shadow of the cliff.

The witnesses gathered around in a semicircle with the cliff wall at their backs. The challenge was simple. They would fight within the ring until one of them surrendered, or went over the cliff. They were allowed only spears and sharusahk, and both men stood with arms raised as Shanjat patted the son of Jeph’s simple clothing for hidden weapons, and Gared did the same for him.

‘No disrespect,’ the giant greenlander said as he went about the business.

‘You have nothing but honour in my eyes, son of Steave,’ Jardir replied.

His sharp ears caught Shanjat’s words to the son of Jeph. ‘You should be thankful for the mercy my master showed you, Par’chin.’

‘And you should be thankful I don’t blame a man’s dogs for who he tells them to bite,’ the Par’chin said.

Shanjat sneered. ‘The Shar’Dama Ka will finish what he started that night, Par’chin. You cannot hope to stand against him.’

‘Then why are you hiding a knife in your sleeve?’ the Par’chin demanded. ‘Use it, if you dare.’

The warrior tensed, and Jardir knew the Par’chin spoke truly. ‘Shanjat!’ he shouted, stealing the moment before his brother-in-law could shame him. ‘Attend me!’

When the Sharum seconds retreated, Jardir and the Par’chin bowed, both at a precise angle and duration, giving neither man greater or lesser face before Everam.

‘I have come as you demanded, son of Jeph,’ Jardir said. ‘Speak your accusations for all assembled and almighty Everam, from whom all justice flows, to hear.’

‘The spear you hold is not yours,’ the Par’chin said. ‘I risked my own life to bring it back to the world, and brought it first to you, my brother in sharak, to share its power. But sharing its secrets was not enough for you. The moment you realized its power was true, you conspired to steal it from me, ambushing me at night on the holy floor of the Maze. Your men beat me, and you took the spear, then cast me into a demon pit to die.’

There were murmurs from both sides at this, but Jardir ignored them, letting the Par’chin continue. He had carried these burdens too long in secret. Let us have it out, and have it done.

‘When I killed the sand demon and climbed from the pit, I told you you would need to kill me yourself,’ the Par’chin said. ‘But you chose instead to knock me out and leave me on the dunes to die. You should have known then this was coming.’

Jardir nodded. ‘You speak truly, Par’chin. I deny none of these actions, but I do deny the crime. One cannot steal one’s own property from the thief that took it.’

The Par’chin laughed. ‘Your property? I found it hundreds of miles from you, in a place no one had been to in three thousand years!’

‘Kaji was my ancestor,’ Jardir said.

The son of Jeph snorted. ‘Your stories are true, he had thousands of children, spread across the land. Got descendants in every sheep-sticking hamlet from here to the mountains of Miln.’

‘But it is we of Krasia who have kept to his word and tradition, Par’chin,’ Jardir said. ‘The holy city of Anoch Sun is sacred. You violated it and stole its treasures.’

‘You attack living cities, yet try to murder me for a crime against a dead one?’ the Par’chin demanded. He narrowed his eyes. ‘Where did you get that crown, my old friend? How much of the holy city did you have to violate to find it?’

Jardir felt his face grow cold, for of course, his army had ransacked the city during their exodus from the desert. But there was no way the Par’chin could know that …

But the son of Jeph smiled, as if he could read Jardir’s mind. ‘I’ve been back there, my friend, and seen how you left things. I treated your “sacred city” with far more reverence than you did, and brought its secrets to you in peace and brotherhood. Even offered to take you back there myself. What has your visit brought the world? Rape, pillage, and murder.’

‘Order,’ Jardir said. ‘Unity. I have made Krasia whole again, and soon the known world.’

The Par’chin shook his head. ‘Once you’re gone, your tribes will be back to slaughtering one another over a bucket of water. Gettin’ rid of you is my last piece of business before I take the fight down to the Core itself.’

Jardir smiled, readying his spear. ‘Whatever on Ala makes you think you can kill me, Par’chin?’

The Par’chin, too, gave a smile and lifted his spear. Whatever else he was, the son of Jeph was Sharum to his core, his soul at peace and ready for the lonely path.

I will sup with you again at Everam’s table, my true friend, Jardir thought as he leapt to attack.

Jardir’s attack was fast. Faster than Arlen had thought possible in daylight. But even so, Arlen was faster, the magic humming just beneath the surface of his skin, giving him strength and speed his foe could never match. He parried the thrust, smoothly following through into a return strike. He would strike with the shaft of his weapon at first, stealing face from Jardir before he finished the fight for real.

But Jardir surprised him, spinning his weapon inhumanly fast to parry the attack. They struck again and again, each move blending into the next. Both men gave and took ground, but when they broke apart, neither held advantage. There was grudging respect in Jardir’s eyes, and Arlen, too, knew he had been arrogant.

He’s drawing on the spear to give him strength in the day, Arlen realized.

‘You fight even better than I remember, Par’chin,’ Jardir complimented with a slight bow, his aura unreadable in the light of the setting sun. ‘Again I underestimate you.’

Arlen smiled. ‘You always say that.’

‘This time is the last,’ Jardir said. ‘I will not hold back any longer.’

And he did not. The First Warrior Priest of Krasia attacked again, and it was all Arlen could do to keep up. He was faster, barely, but Jardir had martial skills that even Arlen could not match. He managed to keep the point of Jardir’s spear at bay, but the butt and shaft began connecting, blows aided by impact wards and Jardir’s own enhanced strength.

But while he could not use his magic out in the sunlight, beneath the protective layer of his skin Arlen had free rein. His bones were stronger than warded glass, his muscles and tendons spring steel. The blows buffeted him, but none did serious damage, and the little they did was healed instantly.

Still, he was not dominating as expected. In fact, to the eyes of all around him, he was losing.

‘It is still my hope you will surrender, Par’chin,’ Jardir said. ‘Admit your crime and submit to me. My mercy is boundless, and I would still have you at my side in Sharak Ka.’