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olished golden shield。 He glanced east to check and remember the angle of the rising sun； that shield could blind him if the Arimondan used it to catch and throw back the light。 Blaise was aware； but only as background； of excited； rapacious murmurs ing from all around them。 A death challenge was the keenest sport there was。
The trumpets sounded again； briefly； and Blaise turned towards the central pavilion as the herald of Arbonne stepped forward。 He was aware that his heart was beating even more rapidly now； but not from anticipation of the battle； not yet。 There was something still to e； before the fighting。
The herald's rich voice rolled out； sonorously naming the most illustrious of those assembled there。 Blaise saw King Daufridi of Valensa sitting next to the countess； his bearded features unreadable； betraying nothing more than idle； polite interest。
〃To my left；〃 cried the herald at last； his trained voice carrying effortlessly over the grass and the densely packed pavilions； 〃stands Quzman di Perno of Arimonda； prepared to lay his life before Corannos and Rian in this matter of his family's honour。〃 He paused。 Blaise drew a breath。 It had e。 〃All right；〃 he said to the two men behind him。 〃Do it。〃 He didn't look back； but as the herald of Arbonne turned towards him he heard the rustle and flap of two banners being run up to fly above his tent； and a moment later there came； truly like the roaring of sea surf in wind； a swelling of sound that nearly drowned the herald's urgently rising voice。
〃To my other hand；〃 the herald proclaimed； 〃equally prepared to defend the honour of his name； stands Blaise de Garsenc of Gorhaut； who here lays claim before this assembled gathering of the six nations and upon this holy field where the god and goddess are judges of honour and worth； to the crown of the Kingdom of Gorhaut； falsely now held by traitorous Ademar！〃
People were on their feet； the herald was shouting now。 〃En Blaise has also declared that this bat； freely entered into by him against a felon so proclaimed by the countess of Arbonne； shall serve as a warrant for the worth of his claim； and he willingly lays his life at hazard before you all in this moment of asserting his right to that same crown。〃
The last was scarcely heard over the thunder of noise from the pavilions and the standing grounds on the other side。 It didn't matter whether the herald was audible or not。 The banners told the story。 Blaise turned slowly…it was all theatre now； all symbol； until the killing began…and he nodded his head； as an equal to his equals； to Signe de Barbentain and then to Daufridi of Valensa。 And the countess of Arbonne rose； in the presence of her people and those gathered from the other countries of the world； and gestured to Blaise with an extended hand in wele； equal to equal。 There was screaming now。 Blaise ignored it。 He waited。 One long moment； then another； and finally； the hairs rising on the back of his neck； he saw Daufridi stand。 Tall and proud； the king of Valensa turned to left and right； not hurrying； a master of moments such as this； and then very slowly； facing Blaise； he laid his right hand on his left shoulder in the coran's salute。
He had done it。 There had been no way of knowing if he would。 It was not quite the full gesture of wele that Signe had offered…Daufridi had far too plex a game of his own to play for that to be possible…but he had given more than they'd had any right to expect： an acknowledgement that Blaise was worthy of a king's standing up to recognize him。
Blaise closed his eyes with relief； and then opened them quickly again。 He must not be seen to have doubted； though of course he had。 There had been no promises from Daufridi at all…and certainly none regarding an event so unexpectedly swift to develop as this one had been。 Leaving that inn outside the walls two nights ago； he had offered only the unreassuring remark that he would think on what Bertran had said。 He had done so； evidently。 He was with them； at least this far。 Blaise was under no illusions though： if the King of Valensa ever decided that they were a greater danger than Ademar and Galbert； he would be swift in his denunciation。 But for the moment； in the midst of this tumultuous maelstrom of sound； he had risen to his feet to wele Blaise to the stage of world affairs。 It was something； it was； in fact； a great deal。 Keeping his expression as serene and unrevealing as he could； Blaise turned away from the pavilions to face his own tent； and so looked up for the first time at what flew above it now。
The rampant bear of Garsenc； crimson on its deep blue ground； carried its own full measure of significance for those who had not even known who he was until this moment。 And above it； in pride and glory and most brazen declaration； flew the banner of the kings of Gorhaut。
Standing at the centre of a growing tidal wave of noise； Blaise looked up at that golden sun on its white ground； with the crown of kings above it and the sword of the god below； and it seemed to him； oddly； as if he had never really seen it before。 In a way； he never had； not like this。 Not lifted in the breeze and the light by his own mand。 It had begun。 With this banner flying above his head and raised in his own name before the emblem of his country's kings as the noise from all around grew to a climax； louder than he would ever have thought possible。
He knew how to quell that sound。 To bring the pavilions and the standing grounds back； like hunting dogs to heel； to what lay ahead of them now on this green grass beneath the morning sun。 It had begun here； and it might end here； for there was still the affirmation of the god to be sought。 Of Corannos； and of the goddess of Arbonne。 For the first time in his life Blaise of Gorhaut offered a prayer to Rian。 Then he turned to the Arimondan and he drew his sword。
Jousts for pleasure and sport were done on horseback in full tournament regalia； horse and rider armoured magnificently； the display lying as much in the glitter of the coran's equipment as in anything else。 No one ever enjoyed losing…it could be hideously expensive for one thing…but the armour prevented all but the rare serious injury； and in the long run； save for a handful of the most celebrated fighters； wins and losses tended to even themselves out。 Tournaments were entertainments； a parading of wealth and success； a revelation of prowess； diversions for the pavilions and the mons both； and they were regarded as such。
Challenges to the death were contested on foot。 Only limited protection was allowed。 There was no glitter to them； no elaborately ornate breastplate or decorated helm。 Death fights were primitive encounters； even holy ones； reaching back to far distant times before the Ancients had e； most purely testing a man's courage and will and the power of his goddesses or gods。 They were an entertainment too； of course； as the excitement of the assembled watchers now attested； but of a darker sort； with a grim； foreknown destination： a man broken and dying on trampled grass； mortality made harshly manifest for those gathered to bear witness and be reminded of their own end。
It was because o