“I apologize,” Grayson says, after a moment. “I hadn’t considered things from your perspective. Of course.”
“Of course what?” My eyes narrow. “Are we going to have our duel out on the ice?”
“We’re going out on the ice,” Grayson says. “But we’re not going to fight. Trial by combat? We’re not barbarians.”
Harak is giving me a superior stare, and I can hear mutters and chuckles among the rest of the monks. I fight down an instinctive rush of embarrassment.
“So how am I supposed to prove myself against you in a trial?” I ask.
“Victory in battle is no proof of righteousness,” Grayson says, serene. “The Divine Being demands the perfection of the self, the body and spirit. Demonstrating that will be our trial.” He nods at the border.
“What?” I stare at him. “We just go over there, and…”
“M
