As they finished, there came a low rumble as of thunder, and the lights fused in a single hemisphere of pale, blue-violet brilliance around the twelve, councilors and combatants. The wall was transparent but veiled, obscuring slightly that which lay within. The next circle would be formed by the eight, and would seal them off not only from the outer world, but from the four who formed the outer ward. Not even the Camberian Council would be able to broach the inner circle.

“The Outerness is sealed,” blind Barrett said. His voice echoed slightly in the glowing circle. “The Innerness must follow. Mark well: until all men of one defense shall perish, the Innerness remains. Only victors leave this arena.”

There was silence as he let his words sink in, and then: “I charge you, then, to make your peace. Set forth the inner circle and do you what you will. On your honor, and in the Name of the Most High, proceed.”

The eight gazed across at one another, each taking the measure of the opposition. Then Wencit took a step forward and made a formal bow.

“Will you begin, or shall I?”

Kelson shrugged. “It makes little difference, in the end. Proceed, if that is your will.”

“Very well.”

With a slight bow, Wencit stepped back into place, then spread his arms to either side. The setting of the inner circle was to be done by the leaders of the two groups, not jointly. Thus it was Wencit alone who spoke, his low voice echoing in the violet circle.

I am Wencit, Lord of Torenth.

I call forth fair Gwynedd’s king

To answer to my mortal challenge,

With such aid as he may bring.

Once the circle’s orb is fashioned,

Yours or mine must all embrace

Cold death, before the living victors

Pass from out this charmèd place.

Fire leaped from his fingertips to inscribe a semi-circle behind him and his three allies, a glittering arc of violet fire perhaps five feet from the outer ring. Kelson briefly pressed his lips tightly together, not looking at his companions, as he, too, spread his arms to either side.

Kelson, King of Royal Gwynedd,

Takes the gauntlet Wencit flings.

He accepts the mortal challenge

Which the King of Torenth brings.

None shall pass this holy circle

’Til the lives of four are done.

’Til the four of one side perish,

None may pass into the sun.

Crimson fire flared behind Kelson and joined with Wencit’s, until they were all surrounded by a wine-dark hemisphere of purplish light. Kelson lowered his arms and glanced aside as his comrades moved closer to either side of him, now that the stage was set.

Across the circle, Wencit likewise gathered his men around him. The councilors could be seen dimly through the inner ring, watching what was about to unfold. But Kelson knew that they could not interfere now, come what may. From now on, he and his must rely on their own good wits.