Kamahl and Chainer stood before the First, in the public reception hall of the manor. The First was dressed formally, with full robes and headdress, and he sat on a tall throne surrounded by his hand and skull attendants. Skellum stood beaming between the First and the fighters with the Master of the Games behind him.

"Twelve wins in a row," the First said. "Quite impressive."

"Thank you, Pater." Chainer said. He nudged Kamahl.

"Right. Thanks." The barbarian was clearly uncomfortable in such a fine room. He looked longingly at the door.

"But now, I'm afraid, the winning streak must end." "Of course, Pater." "What?"

Skellum and Chainer glanced at Kamahl. The barbarian was genuinely confused, on the point of becoming angry.

"It's all for the best," the Master of the Games said. "We're going to put you two up against another crusat squad from the Order. They'll win, become bolder, and start sending more teams into Cabal City. People are nervous with all the changes in leadership around here. They like seeing simple fights they can understand and root for. A barbarian and a Cabalist going up against toy soldiers, over and over again. You win some, they win some. It's familiar to crowds. Comfortable."

"I agree," Kamahl said, "but I don't lose on purpose."

"We're the house team," Chainer spoke quickly to fill in the uncomfortable silence. "And the house never loses. Not in the long run."

Kamahl made a rude noise. "That's dreck. If you don't win, you lose. Period."

"Would it help," the First said calmly, "to think of this as a strategic withdrawal? You'd be letting the Order have a small victory, so that you can secure a larger one later?"

Kamahl shook his head. "I don't fight to lose. I don't think I know how."

The First steepled his fingers. "Not even if the larger victory we're waiting for includes the Mirari?"

Chainer and Kamahl both perked up at the mention of the arti-fact's name. The Mirari hadn't been offered as a prize since Fulla brought it back from Mer.

"You're planning another Mirari games, Pater?"

"Yes, my child. And soon."

"But we need the right kind of build-up," the Master of the Games broke in. "The Order has to feel there's a chance of them winning. If they take down our best two-man team, they'll be sure to come back."

Kamahl shook his head again. "No deal." Chainer shot Skellum an agonized look, but Skellum could only look back with sympathy.

"Forgive us, honored guest," said the Master of the Games, "but the team of Kamahl and Chainer is going to lose their next bout. It has been arranged."

"Then the team of Kamahl and Chainer will not compete." Kamahl glanced at Chainer, then spoke to the First. "You have been an excellent host, Cabal First, but I am from a different tradition. I'm here to fight. I'm here to win the Mirari with strength, speed, and skill. When you decide to offer it up, I will be ready to work for it. But until then, count me out of these games you play to increase the audience and drive up the odds."

The Master of the Games started to speak, but the First interrupted. "I am truly sorry you feel that way."

"As am I. I mean no offense, but I was raised and trained never to do less than my best."

"You are a barbarian of principles," the First said. "But if you are not going to support our agenda for the next games, I'm going to have to ask you to excuse yourself. We have Cabal business to discuss."

Kamahl nodded, glanced at Chainer, and then stomped out, his heavy boots echoing down the hall with each step.

When the footsteps had gone, Chainer said, "Forgive him, Pater." "There is nothing to forgive. He is set in his ways, and we must find someone else to fight in his place. I only regret that we won't be able to rely on him as an ally." "He is still our ally, Pater. He just-"

"Chainer," Skellum interrupted. "We're not here to discuss your unwilling partner."

Chainer's face fell. "No, Master."

"Master of the Games," the First said. "Can Chainer alone deliver the result we're seeking?" "Yes, Pater."

"Master Skellum. Is your pupil ready to provide that result? And will he survive it?"

"Yes, Pater." Chainer and Skellum spoke together. "Nothing fancy," the Master of the Games told Chainer. "Just get in there and roll over. It doesn't need to be a good fight, it just needs to be an Order victory."

"Understood," Chainer said.

"Master of the Games, you are dismissed."

"Thank you, Pater." She slipped quickly out of the room.

Chainer stood nervously before the First. Skellum fiddled with his hat beneath his arm. The First watched them both through steepled fingers.

"You have something to add, Master Skellum?"

Skellum cleared his throat. "I do, Pater. Chainer has made excellent progress as a caster. There is only one more thing I can teach him, one more lesson before he graduates from my academy."

Chainer fought off a gulp of surprise. This was news to him.

"This would be the dementist's shikar you've mentioned?"

Skellum began to walk back and forth, between Chainer and the First. "Yes, Pater. It is a rite of passage. A spiritual journey combined with a physical trial." He pulled himself up to his full height and spoke with as much dignity as he could muster. "It is something that separates dementists from mere casters."

"I am familiar with the ritual. Yours was a great success, if I'm not mistaken."

Skellum beamed. "Thank you, Pater."

"And you believe your student is ready for this trial."

"I do, Pater. As his mentor, I would want to accompany him. For the last time, of course. When we return from shikar, there will be nothing left for me to teach him."

"How long does it take?"

"Two days to walk to the site. Three days of trial. Two days to return."

The First considered. "Very well. As soon as Chainer discharges his obligation with the Order, you and he will take a leave of absence from the pits. You will experience shikar."

"Thank you, Pater."

"Thank you, Master," Chainer whispered. Skellum glared at him, but winked also.

"There is one final thing," the First said, "concerning the Mirari. Doubtless by now you are both aware that my predictions came true. The Mirari led to major upheavals in both the Order and Mer, and then it came back to us. I made one error, however. I expected the past few months to thin the field, as it were, but just the opposite is true. More and more people are following its trail, which will lead them here. This is both good and bad for the Cabal. Even as we speak, the crusat death squads are reforming in an effort to drive us out of our strongholds. Cabal City, Aphetto… even our minor pits in no-name villages are being targeted. They make the same old claims. We corrupt the innocent, mock the law, and generally impede the Order's righteous progress.

"The era of coexistence is over. When you return from shikar, you both will assist me in neutralizing the crusat threat." "With pleasure, Pater."

Skellum whispered teasingly to Chainer, "A dementist at last." "Ambassador Laquatus also continues to seek the Mirari. Today he contacted one of the crusat officers to sound him out for an alliance against us. It would be best if we could fix his attention elsewhere while we sort out the Order problem ourselves." "We could postpone shikar, Pater."

"No, Skellum. Chainer's apprenticeship is over. It's time we made that official."

"You have something in mind, Pater?"

"I do. Since Laquatus will not stop complicating the situation until he gets a crack at the Mirari, I will announce the next games immediately. They will be held in three month's time, to coincide with the anniversary of the founding of Cabal City. The Mirari will be the grand prize, awarded to the strongest fighter in the pits. Laquatus is currently in need of a thrall. Apparently his amphibian was killed along with Aboshan. With the games scheduled, he will redouble his efforts to find a replacement thrall. This alone would not be enough to occupy a busy mind like Laquatus's, but this on top of… other circumstances I have yet to arrange… it will more than suffice.