"Do you deny the charges?"
"I neither confirm nor deny them; they are ridiculous."
"It is my opinion that your statement is evasive. It signifies guilt.
Additionally your attitudes are disrespectful. You are guilty."
"I refuse to accept your verdict," said Reith, "unless you can enforce it. I hold you to account."
The Immaculate regarded Reith with scorn and revulsion. "You challenge me, an Immaculate?"
"It seems to be the only way I can prove my innocence."
The Immaculate looked at the Dirdir Excellent. "Am I so obligated?"
"You are so obligated."
The Immaculate measured Reith. "I will kill you with my hands and teeth as befits a Dirdirman."
"As you please. First, remove this chain from my neck."
"Remove the chain," said the Dirdir Excellent.
The Immaculate said fretfully, "Vulgarity! I lose dignity performing before a gaggle of sub-men."
"Do not complain," said the Excellent. "It is I, Captain of the Hunt, who loses a trophy. Continue; enforce your arbitration."
The chain was removed. Reith stretched, relaxed, stretched, relaxed, hoping to restore tone to his muscles. He had hung all night by his wrists, his body felt heavy with fatigue. The Dirdirman stepped forward. Reith became a trifle light-headed.
"What are the rules of combat?" asked Reith. "I do not wish to commit any fouls upon you."
"There are no fouls," said the Immaculate. "We use hunt rules: you are the game!" He uttered a wild screech and launched himself upon Reith, in what seemed an ineffectual sprawl, until Reith touched the creature's white body and found it all tense muscle and gristle. Reith fended aside the rush, but was ripped by artificial talons. He attempted an armlock, but could not secure a leverage. He struck the Immaculate a blow under the ear, tried to hack the larynx and missed.
The Immaculate stood back in annoyance. The spectators gasped in excitement. The Immaculate again launched himself upon Reith, who caught the long forearm and sent the Dirdirman staggering. Woudiver could not contain himself; he rushed out and struck Reith a buffet across the side of his head. Traz yelled in protest and whipped his chain across Woudiver's face. Woudiver screamed in agony and sat squashily upon the ground. Anacho wrapped his chain around Woudiver's neck and yanked it tight. The Elite Dirdirman leaped forward, snatched away the chain.
Woudiver lay gasping, his face the color of mud.
The Immaculate had taken advantage of Woudiver's attack to seize Reith and bear him to the ground. The wire-tense arms clasped Reith's body; sharp long teeth tore at his neck. Reith freed his arms. With all his force he clapped his cupped hands upon the white ears. The Immaculate emitted a strangled squeal and rolled his head in agony. Momentarily he went limp. Reith straddled the thin body, as if he rode a white eel. He began to work at the bald head. He tore away the false effulgences, teased the head this way and that, then gave a great twist.
The Immaculate's head hung askew; his body thrashed and floundered, then lay still.
Reith rose to his feet. He stood shaking and panting. "I am vindicated," he said.
"The charges of the fat sub-man are invalid," intoned the Excellent. "He may therefore be held to account."
Reith turned away. "Halt!" said the Excellent, its voice taking on a throaty vibrato. "Are there further charges?"
A Dirdir of the Elite caste, effulgences rigid and sparkling with crystal coruscations, spoke: "Does the beast still call dr'ssa?"
Reith swung around, half-intoxicated by fatigue and the aftermath of struggle.
"I am a man, you are the beast."
"Do you demand arbitration?" the Excellent asked. "If not, let us be away."
Reith's heart sank. "What are the new charges?"
The Elite stepped forward. "I charge that you and your henchmen trespassed upon the Dirdir Hunting Preserve and there treacherously slaughtered members of the Thisz Sept."
"I deny the charge," said Reith in a hoarse voice.
The Elite turned to the Excellent. "I request that you arbitrate. I request that you give me this beast and his henchmen and mark him exclusive quarry of the Thisz."
"I accept the onus of arbitration," fluted the Excellent. To Reith, in a tone nasal and coarse: "You trespassed in the Carabas, this is true."
"I entered the Carabas. No one ordered me not to do so."
"The proscription is general knowledge. You furtively assaulted several Dirdir; this is true."
"I assaulted no one who did not attack me first. If the Dirdir wish to act like wild beasts then they must suffer the consequences."
From the crowd came a murmur of wonder and what seemed muted approval. The Excellent turned to glance around the plaza. Instantly the sound was muted.
"It is Dirdir tradition to hunt. It is sub-man tradition and his essential character to serve as quarry."
"I am no sub-man," said Reith. "I am a man and quarry to no one. If a wild beast attacks me I will kill it."
The bone-white face of the Excellent showed no quiver of feeling. But the effulgences began to glow, and to become rigid. "The verdict must adhere to tradition," the creature intoned. "I find against the sub-man. This farrago is now at an end. You must be taken to the Glass Cage."
"I challenge the arbitration!" cried Reith. Stepping forward, he buffeted the Excellent on the side of the head. The skin was cold and somewhat flexible, like tortoiseshell; Reith's hand stung from the blow. The Excellent's effulgences stood like hot wires; it vented a thin whistle. The crowd stood in unbelieving silence.
The Excellent reached its great arms to the front in a clutching, ripping gesture. It vented a gurgling scream and poised to leap.
"A moment," said Reith, stepping back. "What are the rules of combat?"
"There are no rules. I kill as I choose."
"And if I kill you, I am vindicated, and my friends as well?"
"That is the case."
"Let us fight with swords."
"We will fight as we stand."
"Very well," said Reith.
The fight was no contest. The Excellent came forward, swift and massive as a tiger. Reith took two quick steps back; the Excellent launched itself. Reith seized the horny wrist, planted a foot in the torso; falling backwards he threw the creature in a sprawling somersault. It landed on its neck, to lie in a daze.
Instantly Reith was upon it, locking the taloned arms. The Excellent writhed and thrashed; Reith banged its head against the pavement until the bone cracked and whitish-green ichor began to exude. He panted: "What of the arbitration? Was it right or wrong?"
The Excellent keened-a weird wailing sound, expressing no emotion known to human experience. Reith banged down the harsh white head again and again. "What of the arbitration?" He slammed the head against the pavement. The Dirdir made a great effort to dislodge Reith and failed. "You are the victor. My arbitration is refuted."
"And I, with my friends, are now held guiltless? We may pursue our activities without persecution?"
"This is the case."
Reith called to Anacho, "Can I trust it?"
Anacho said, "Yes, it is tradition. If you want a trophy, pluck out his effulgences."
"I want no trophy." Reith rose to his feet and stood swaying.
The crowd regarded him with awe. Erlius turned on his heel and strode hastily away. Aila Woudiver backed slowly toward his black car.
Reith pointed a finger: "Woudiver-your charges were false and you now must answer to me."
Woudiver snatched out his power-gun: Traz leaped forward, hung on the vast wrist. The gun discharged, scorching Woudiver's leg. He bawled in agony and fell to the ground. Anacho took the gun; Reith tied one of the chains around Woudiver's neck and gave it a harsh tug. "Come, Woudiver." He led the way to the black car, through the hastily retreating onlookers.