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。 Blaise was aware that he was swaying unsteadily on his feet。 His ear felt as if it were shredded； on fire。 His legs； from the first sword wound and then the last shield blow； could barely support him。 But he was upright； and he had his sword again； and the other man was down。
He set the point； as steadily as he could； at Quzman's throat。 The Arimondan's black eyes gazed up at him implacably； without fear； even as death arrived for him。
〃Do it；〃 he said； 〃that my spirit may rejoin my brother's。〃
Blaise said； breathing in hard； short gasps； 〃I am free of your blood before the god？ It was fairly done？ I have your dispensation？〃
Quzman managed a bitter smile。 〃It matters to you？〃 He dragged a breath。 〃You have it。 It was fairly done。〃 Another harsh breath。 〃It was more than fair； after the woman's rooms。 You are free of my death。 Do it。〃
The shouts and screaming had stopped； It was eerily silent now all around the ground where they stood。 One man called out something from the mons' side。 In the stillness his voice rose and fell away； leaving silence again。 There was； Blaise realized； one more thing he could do this morning。 And it seemed； remarkably； that he wanted to do it in any case。
He said； the words ing slowly as he struggled to control his breathing； 〃Your wounds are not mortal。 I will need good men with me to do what I must do。 I killed your brother when attacked by six corans and only after they first shot at me。 Will you let this bat settle the past for us？ I am loath to kill a brave man。 I do not want your death on my hands； even with dispensation。〃
Quzman shook his head； his expression curiously tranquil now。 〃I might have agreed；〃 he said； his breathing quick and shallow； 〃were it not for one thing。 My brother carried no bow； he never did； and he died of an arrow in the throat。 You ought to have fought him； Northerner。 For killing him at a distance you must die； or I must。〃
Blaise shook his head。 There was a great weariness in him now。 〃Need it be written before the god that we be enemies？〃 He fought off a renewed wave of pain。 He could feel blood dripping from his ear。 〃It was not a tourney that day by the lake。 I was fighting six men for my life。 I am not going to kill you； Arimondan。 If I ask； they will let you go from here。 Do what you will with your life； but know that I will be pleased to have you in my pany。〃
〃Do not do this；〃 said Quzman of Arimonda。
Blaise ignored him。 He turned and began to walk…cautiously； because he could not move any other way just yet…towards the pavilion where the countess sat with Ariane and Bertran and die king of Valensa。 It seemed a long way off。 And it was very nearly the hardest thing he had ever done； not to try to move faster； not to look back and see。
He took five or six steps only。 He had thought it might be thus。 The man was an Arimondan。 after all。 There had been a slim chance； no more。
〃I told you to kill me！〃 Quzman di Perano cried。 Blaise heard footsteps crossing the grass。 He flung a prayer outwards； to whoever might hear him from this field in Arbonne； the god； or the goddess who was more than his maiden daughter here。 And with his silent invocation； he heard the impact of arrows。
Behind him the Arimondan grunted queerly and spoke a name； and there came the sound of a body falling on the grass。
For a long moment Blaise stood motionless； dealing with an unexpected regret。 When he did turn it was towards his tent； to see Valery of Talair and Rudel Correze approaching； the two best archers he knew； both grim…faced； both with bows to hand and the arrows gone。 He went slowly back to stand above the body of the Arimondan。 Quzman lay face down in the grass； still gripping his splendid sword； but Blaise； gazing upon him； saw something he could not understand。 There were four arrows； not two； in the dead man's body。 He looked limp； almost ical； stuck full of arrows like a sorcerer's pin…doll。 An ugly ending for a proud man。 Blaise looked up； his brow furrowing； and saw a third man with a bow step forward as if he had been waiting to be noticed。 The man began hesitantly to e across the grass towards them from the far end of the pavilions。 A moment later Blaise blinked in astonished recognition。 It had been a long shot； that one； but he remembered Hirnan of Baude； the best coran there； as being exceptionally good with his bow。
Hirnan came up to him and bowed； his expression awkward and anxious。 〃I must ask your forgiveness；〃 he said。 〃I saw him rise up with the sword。 I did not know the others had instructions from you。〃
〃They didn't；〃 Blaise said mildly。 〃I didn't know I was going to do that。〃 He extended a hand and touched the big coran on the shoulder。 〃Well met again； Hirnan； and hardly a time to be asking forgiveness…you might have saved my life just there。〃
Hirnan took a relieved breath but did not smile。 He seemed uneasy here on the grass with so many people watching them。 〃I heard what the herald said；〃 he murmured。 〃We never knew who you were； you understand。〃 He looked Blaise in the eye。 〃But I made my own judgment last spring。 I claim no very great skills or dignity； but if you can use a man you can trust in your pany I would be honoured。 My lord。〃
Blaise felt a truly unexpected feeling of warmth beginning to steal through him； pushing away the pain。 He liked this man and respected him。 〃The honour will be as much my own；〃 he said gravely。 〃I made my own judgments too； in the highlands。 But you are a sworn coran of the lord of Baude Castle。 I doubt Mallin will be eager to lose one such as you。〃
For the first time； Hirnan allowed the trace of a smile to cross his face。 〃Look again；〃 he said。 〃It was En Mallin himself who told me to ready my bow； there at the end when the Arimondan fell and you stood talking to him。 I truly do not think he will object if I join you now。〃
Blaise did look over then； where Hirnan was indicating； to a bright yellow pavilion far down the lists； and he saw that Mallin de Baude was on his feet。 Even at this distance he could see that the young baron was smiling。 Memories of the springtime came flooding back as Blaise lifted a hand in salute。 And then Mallin de Baude； as if born to such gestures； to performing them before the eyes of the gathered world； saluted Blaise in return with a lifted hand； and then he bowed to him； the way one bows to kings。 Beside him； with exquisite grace； Soresina de Baude； in a skirt green as the grass； sank low to the ground and remained thus for a moment before she rose。 There was a murmur from the pavilions and the mons； both。
Blaise swallowed； struggling without great success to adjust his own thinking to this sort of thing。 It was difficult to resist the urge to return the salute in kind； but a man claiming a crown did not bow to minor barons。 The rules of the game were changing； as of this morning they had changed for the rest of his life； however long or short that might be。 There was something frightening in that thought。
Behind him there came a dry cough。 He looked over his shoulder at Rudel and Valery。 〃That ear will need looking to。 And there is a fourth arrow here；〃 Valery said prosaically。
Rudel's expression was odd； as if astonishment were vying with hilarity for mastery in him。 〃And the man who fired it is making his appearance even as we speak； like the unmasked coran at the end of a puppet play。 This is the end of the play； Blaise。 You'd best think quickly。 Look to the other tent。〃
Blaise looked。 From behind the Arimondan's tent； very much indeed as from behind a stage curtain； resplendent in green and gold； with a longbow in one hand； came Urté de Miraval。
He was seen now by the pavilions and the mons both； and so the noise； not surprisingly； began to grow again。 In the midst of it； Urté began walking towards them with a measured； unhurried tread； as if he were doing no more than stroll the grounds of Miraval。
He came up to Blaise and stopped； his carriage straight as a spear for all his years。 There was a stillness where they stood； though the sounds continued to grow all around them。
〃Do not；〃 Urté said； 〃expect another salute。 The last time I looked into the matter； A