About a dozen minotaurs stood before him, gathered in a half-circle. Two he recognized for certain-the brother and sister, Hecar and Helati, respectively. Kaz allowed himself a moment to admire Helati, who was easily the most attractive of the handful of females in the party, then turned to face a scarred menace who was the apparent leader.

“I am Scum. I am leader.”

A movement by Hecar indicated a difference of opinion, but Scurn deigned not to notice it. Kaz concentrated on the disfigured minotaur who stood before him, knowing that if he was the leader, it was because he was the most powerful fighter.

Scurn seemed to require a reply.

“You know who I am.”

Scum’s eyes burned. There would be no dealing reasonably with this one, Kaz realized sourly. The scarred minotaur could barely contain himself.

Someone moved behind the line of minotaurs. It was the ogre. Kaz tried to make out the ugly visage, but the ogre kept himself at least partly obscured.

Eyes sweeping over Kaz, Scurn said, “You are accused of murder, the murder of the ogre captain you served under. Struck down from behind during the confusion of battle, he had no chance to defend himself. Our dislike for their kind is no secret, but such an act was a dishonor to your clan and to your people, and a crime in any civilized part of the world.” The scarred minotaur gave him a nasty smile. “That murder also required the breaking of an honor-binding oath of loyalty sworn before the elders and your emperor, a terrible deed unheard of, and was compounded by your cowardice when you fled rather than face proper punishment. When your crimes became known to the elders and the emperor, a proclamation for your capture and judgment was issued, and we were sent out to bring you to justice. Will you admit your guilt? Will you save what honor you have left?”

“He deserved to die,” Kaz said quite bluntly. He was only now remembering how long-winded his people could be when speaking of matters of honor.

“You broke your oath and brought dishonor on your clan-our clan. The dishonor was greater because of who you were, a champion of the arena, one who might have brought the crown of emperor back to our clan. You ran, shaming all of our ancestors who gave their lives in combat. You did not even face your victim in fair combat, but instead slew him from behind!”

“Untrue,” Kaz replied coldly.

“You have no honor!” Scurn intoned.

“Life without honor is not worth living,” the other minotaurs chanted automatically in unison. It seemed to Kaz that some of them, however, spoke the words with little conviction.

“You are a proven coward.”

“A coward weakens the race.” This time, more than one hesitated in the recital.

Hecar threw down his axe. “This is a travesty! I will not take part in it! It would be a stain on our own honor!”

Scurn turned his murderous glare from Kaz to the other minotaur. “Know your place, Hecar!”

“I know you could easily defeat me, Scurn, but I would consider myself a coward if I did not speak the truth! You know what Kaz has done this time!”

“It changes nothing!”

Helati stepped up and joined her brother. “It means everything! I find it difficult to condemn one who has proven his courage and strength as Kaz has done! The Grand Master’s own nephew calls him one of the most honorable comrades he has fought with. I question more the myriad tangles in our code of honor that make us slave-soldiers to his kind!”

The ogre stiffened, knowing that Helati was speaking of him, but he stayed in the background nonetheless. It was surprising, Kaz thought, that his accuser was even here.

“Present deeds do not make up for past crimes, Helati! You would also do well to remember your place!” Scurn waved a huge, clawed hand, as if wiping the conversation away. “We waste enough time! Either accept your fate, Kaz, and return with us, or we will settle things now!”

“Then let’s settle it now.” Kaz threw his battle-axe to the earth. “I’ve no time to make a weapon with my own hands, as custom dictates, so I’ll make do with my hands alone.”

Kaz heard footfalls behind him and knew that the others had followed him out of the tent. The humans wouldn’t understand what was going on. Kaz had chosen to face his fate, and that meant a trial by combat, with the odds greatly slanted against him. Under other circumstances, he would have been allowed a few days to prepare himself and to fashion a weapon from the land around him; only a self-made weapon was allowed to the condemned. Although technically Kaz was not sentenced to death, the odds were so great that few facing such a trial ever survived. It was intended that way. Dying in a battle against incredible odds was one of few accepted ways for a minotaur to regain his honor in the eyes of his people.

After five years, Kaz was only now understanding the extent of his race’s madness and hypocrisy. Little good it would do him.

“He’s going to fight all of them?” Tesela asked someone unbelievingly. “He’ll be slaughtered!”

“This is minotaur law, cleric,” Bennett replied, though it was evident from his tone that he liked the situation as little as she did. “I cannot interfere. His honor is at stake.”

“His life is at stake!” she muttered, but quieted after that.

Kaz was relieved. He was afraid that someone would try to interfere. Vastly outnumbered as they were, the minotaurs would cut a bloody swath through his companions if they were forced to defend themselves. He wanted no one else to be injured, much less killed. This was his battle alone.

By rights, the minotaurs should have spread out, encircling Kaz. One at a time or in groups, they were then to attack until either he was dead or triumphant.

Scurn looked at the others in open frustration. “Take your places!”

Hecar, who had still not recovered his weapon, stepped away. “I withdraw from this group. I find the murder of which Kaz stands accused questionable despite the evidence. I came because honor was at stake, but I see nothing here to make me believe that Kaz has shamed our clan and our race. He is no coward, and after the trials he has faced-whose outcome has undoubtedly affected the future of our people as well as the lesser races-I believe he has redeemed himself, if he ever truly needed to.”

Helati joined her brother. “I will not take part in this travesty, either. Kaz broke a sacred oath of loyalty, yes, but I question whether those he swore it to were ever worthy of that oath in the first place. Honor has many faces, but I never saw one that resembled an ogre.”

With mounting rage, Scurn looked left and right as others of his companions abandoned him. Of the entire party, only two minotaurs stayed with the disfigured leader. He looked at them and roared, “Get back with the rest of theml I’ll fight him alone! You heard me!”

Hesitantly, the two stepped back. Scurn, smiling nastily, moved within an arm’s length of Kaz. The scarred minotaur was an inch or two taller than he and carried a battle-axe, a monstrous weapon far larger than Honor’s Face, a true minotaur’s axe. Still staring at Kaz, Scurn threw the axe aside.

“I’ve no need of weapons to defeat you!”

Kaz snorted in wry amusement. “This is what you want, is it?”

“Pray to the ancestors while you still have time.”

“I’ll give thanks to them that any blood they shared between our lines is so far in the past that I don’t even have to consider you one of my kin.”

Scurn bared his teeth. “Whenever you are ready…”

There was no signal to begin. The two combatants merely tensed and, in unspoken agreement, threw themselves at each other. Scurn caught hold of Kaz’s left arm with his right and tried to drive a stiff hand below Kaz’s rib cage. Kaz caught the hand just in time and forced it to one side. With his free hand, Kaz shoved his opponent back.