Not much chance of that. While the Council as a whole might prefer to avoid this, if she backed down she’d be entirely in Nicomidi’s power. As an agathios without a master, she had few formal rights. If she became a centarch, his ability to move against her would be much reduced.

“Thank you, Centarch. But I maintain my challenge.”

Evinda grunted, then paused. “I cannot approve of your action,” she said eventually. “It goes against tradition. But I must admire your courage.”

“Thank you, Centarch.”

“Your haken and panoply belt are waiting in the preparation area. Understand that they are being returned to you only for the duel, and no other purpose. If you are so lost to honor as to try to escape, I will be waiting.” Her hand brushed her haken.

“I understand, Centarch. I don’t plan to run away.”

The older woman nodded, then stepped out of Maya’s path. “You may proceed.”

The guards stayed behind as Maya walked into the tunnel. It entered a broader space, half changing room and half armory. There were benches and a small table, and racks full of equipment of all sorts—swords, axes, pole-arms, armor. Another door let out into the arena itself.

Tanax—Centarch Tanax Brokenedge now—sat on one of the benches, legs crossed, eyes closed as though lost in thought. He already wore his haken at his side, and the silvery length of a panoply belt was wound around his midsection over loose, informal fighting clothes. Maya’s own haken lay on the table, with her panoply belt beside it.

“Hello,” Maya said. Then paused, cleared her throat, and started again. “Greetings, Centarch.”

Tanax opened his eyes and inclined his head. “Agathios-Challenger.”

“Congratulations on your cognomen.”

“Thank you.”

Maya’s mouth was suddenly dry. She felt a stab of sympathy for Tanax, who hadn’t asked for his role in this drama. While the stakes were not as high for him, losing the duel on behalf of the centarchate would still shame him greatly, and no doubt cost him Nicomidi’s good opinion.

“I wanted to say—” she began, but Tanax cut her off.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said.

She blinked. “What?”

“I know we have … had our differences. I hope you understand I was obeying orders when I brought you in. And while you deserve some punishment for your insubordination, I think …” He took a deep breath. “It’s possible my master has acted too harshly.”

“Possible,” Maya deadpanned.

“You know I have always tried to behave correctly. If you are willing to call off this foolish challenge, I swear I will petition my master and the Council on your behalf.”

“You’re too late,” Maya said. “Centarch Evinda already gave me my last chance outside.”

“Maya—”

“Besides,” she went on, “in your ‘correct behavior,’ have you ever considered the possibility that I was right? First about Raskos’ corruption, and now about Jaedia.”

“My master says—”