“Words!” Sofan waved them aside. “Magelords is evil. Magery’s evil. Doesn’t matter if a mouse squeezes through a tiny hole, it’s still a mouse. Same with magery.” He stood up abruptly; his yeoman-marshal stood with him.

Before the knights could move from the doorway, she was on her feet, hand on the hilt of her sword. Sofan’s expression wavered; she had surprised him. That only fueled her rage. “Fine,” she said. “If you demand a trial of arms, a trial of arms you shall have.”

“Marshal-General?” That was one of the knights, frowning a little.

“Out of their own mouths,” Arianya said. “They admit their deeds. Marshal Sofan does not trust a tribunal of his fellows. It is my choice to grant him the trial of arms he requests. High Lord’s Hall. Now.” When the others hesitated, she said, “Witnesses to the High Lord’s Hall.”

She did not miss the gleam of satisfaction in Sofan’s eyes. He had intended this all along; he was sure he could take her. He meant to kill her … or his yeoman-marshal would. Both ten years or more her junior, both fit and weapons-skilled, as all Marshals and yeoman-marshals should be.

“Marshal-General—” The other knight, looking back and forth from them to her. “What orders?”

“Marshal Sofan,” Arianya said loud enough to be heard in the passage, where she knew others listened, “has demanded a trial of arms to settle whether I am fit to lead the Fellowship.”

“An’ me!” Rort said.

Arianya ignored him. “See them safe to the High Lord’s Hall. I will come with the required witnesses—”

“An’ don’t be takin’ all day about it,” Sofan said, sticking his thumbs in his belt. “If you think you can tire us out waitin’…”

“Within the glass,” Arianya said. She turned back to the knight. “They are not to wander alone. They may have water at need. Escort them to the jacks at their request.” And to Sofan, “I suggest you pray, Marshal and yeoman-marshal, asking guidance of Gird.”

“You need it more than we do,” Sofan said.

That was possibly true, Arianya thought, especially since Sofan wasn’t going to take guidance of anything but a blow to the head.

On her way through the complex toward the High Lord’s Hall, Arianya gathered witnesses: the Marshals waiting for the tribunal, two High Marshals, Camwynya to represent the paladins, three yeoman-marshals, three Knights of Gird. She also considered weaponry. Traditionally, Girdish trials of arms used the weapons Gird himself had used: hauk, staff, and unarmed wrestling. But Gird at the Battle of Greenfields had a sword and used it. He wore a sword through the last year of the war, in fact. And Sofan had challenged her, insulted her … which under the Code meant she could choose any weapon she wished. Or, she corrected herself, that Gird wanted her to use.