the power and wealth of the Tyree nobility, and you're afraid of one man who does not respect your laws.
“Well, damn right I don't respect your laws. I challenge those laws. I challenge you, Arastyn. I challenge you to a duel. If you want me dead, you'll have to kill me yourself.”
“Master Jaryd,” Arastyn said, with dry contempt, “even a fool like you should know our laws better than to think a landless nothing like you can challenge his superior to a duel.”
“Verenthane law, aye,” said Jaryd. “But not Goeren-yai.”
Arastyn stared at him, uncomprehendingly. “Goeren-yai? Master Jaryd, you are a Verenthane.”
“Aye,” said Jaryd, reaching beneath his collar, “well, not anymore.” He pulled free his Verenthane star, snapped the silver chain about his neck with a sharp tug, and threw it at Arastyn's feet. “I reject your gods. I reject your law. From this moment, I follow the ancient ways. And I challenge you to mortal combat, Lord Arastyn, for the Great Lordship of Tyree, and the death of my brother and father.”
About the room, men stared in disbelief. “You…” Arastyn began, and floundered, speechless.
“You can't do that!” exclaimed Lord Parabys, horrified.
“Good gods, man!” said Lord Kumaryn. “What of your soul?”
“Arastyn took that when he killed my brother,” Jaryd snarled. “If the gods shall not allow me my revenge, then I rest my claim with the ancient spirits instead.”
Koenyg snorted in profound frustration, and flicked a gloved hand through his hair. “Where's a priest when we need one?” he muttered.
King Torvaal frowned hard at Jaryd. Evidently thinking. When was the last time a Verenthane noble had converted, Sasha wondered past her astonishment? If it had ever happened, she couldn't recall it. Plenty of senior Goeren-yai had converted the other way to please King Soros…but this? She couldn't recall it happening even amongst poor, common Verenthanes.
Lord Arastyn fingered his own neckchain uncomfortably. He seemed a naturally calm and sensible man. A trustworthy man, with an inoffensive, handsome face. Exactly the kind of person, Kessligh insisted in his more cynical moments, from whom one should expect the worst treachery. “Even if such a thing were possible,” Arastyn said defensively, “you are still a man of Tyree. You are subject to our laws and punishments.”
“And as Goeren-yai,” Sasha added, “he is entitled to redeem a slight upon his honour, no matter how high the rank of the man he challenges.”
“After his trial,” Arastyn said stubbornly.
“Before,” Sasha insisted, shaking her head. Nice try, slippery worm. “He can't challenge after you've cut his head off.”
“Actually,” said Captain Akryd, conversationally, “this is the kind of thing a Goeren-yai man's immediate headman or chieftain should decide. Duels must be conducted according to the proper protocol.”
“Pagan madness!” Lord Rydysh snarled, and strode from the cottage with a disgusted wave of his arm. He exited with a slam of the rear door.
“Who would be Master Jaryd's immediate superior?” asked the king, as if Lord Rydysh had never spoken, nor stormed out in rage. “Given his…circumstance?”
“Your Highness!” Lord Parabys exclaimed. “You're not seriously considering allowing this…this…”
“I'm not a priest, but I don't see how a man can be instructed by others on what he does or does not believe,” said the king, looking at Akryd. “How about your poor bloody daughter?” Sasha nearly asked, but didn't. “Captain Akryd, humour my curiosity.”
“Well, Your Highness,” said Akryd, “I believe since Master Jaryd is not born into a Goeren-yai community, and has no village headman to speak for him, his senior commander in military matters should suffice for a judgment.”
“As the senior military Goeren-yai,” Torvaal observed, “that would be you.”
“Aye, Highness,” said Akryd, somewhat smugly. “It seems a quandary, does it not? One law for Verenthanes, another for Goeren-yai.”
“One of the great quandaries of Lenayin,” the king agreed. “Especially considering the Goeren-yai have no written law, and will not accept one. There is only tradition.”
“One reason, perhaps, why Goeren-yai and Verenthane do not frequently live together,” said Akryd. “These squabbles can be confusing.”
“And one reason why certain Verenthanes would like nothing better than to see the Goeren-yai destroyed completely,” Sasha said darkly, with a stare at the lords.
“There is no solution,” said Akryd with a shrug. “Lord Arastyn need not comply with Master Jaryd's demand, yet the opposite is also true. It is the sort of matter on which a king could intervene as judge, Your Highness, but as you have already stated, kings cannot intervene on provincial matters.”
“Hmm,” said Torvaal. Another man, Sasha knew, might have raved at “pagan madness” just as Lord