Human and Traiti circled cautiously, evaluating each other. Hovan watched, hoping the judge's precautions would be adequate, though he didn't suspect Valkan of any true hostility toward Steve--not after seeing the K'horan fighter's reaction when Steve accepted challenge. Valkan had been disconcerted, had seemed to want to call off a joke that had backfired, but he couldn't do so without loss of honor. Hovan did have some sympathy for him; he could imagine very clearly how he would be feeling in Valkan's place. He'd want to win, but without doing the human any real harm; it wouldn't be right to send anyone into the Ordeal injured. And he'd be having qualms about fighting the man at all. Steve was an adult fighter, a legal opponent--but Valkan would have to feel as if he were facing an underdeveloped youngling. Tarlac neither knew about nor shared the Traiti's misgivings. He watched Valkan's moves closely, trying to spot a weakness. He could see none, and decided that if Valkan did have an Achilles' heel, it was psychological. The Traiti's bearing and moves were graceful--and confident. The Ranger suppressed an urge to smile slightly at that. Of course Valkan was confident! He was taller, had a longer reach, and was accustomed to such matches. But if Tarlac could feed his opponent's confidence until it overwhelmed his caution . . . he'd only get one opening, at that . . . He got the chance to begin putting his plan into effect almost immediately. The Traiti made the first move, lunging for Tarlac's chest. The Ranger dodged, Valkan's blade cutting air less than a centimeter from his skin. His counterattack was a split second too slow to give a disabling slash to Valkan's other arm. It went on like that for the better part of ten minutes: the human escaping serious injury by what seemed pure luck, his attacks at most nicking his opponent. He was being steadily outpointed, and seemed to be tiring fast. Hovan watched Steve's losing battle with concern that rapidly became dismay. If this was the Ranger's best, he would have little chance to survive his Ordeal. Granted, he was overmatched, but he shouldn't be moving so clumsily, gasping for breath, so soon! And then Hovan saw Valkan decide to end it quickly. Steve was obviously near the end of his strength, but he continued to fight even when he had no chance of victory; that did him honor. Then the exhausted human stumbled to one knee with his head and shoulders slumped. Valkan moved in. His breath rasping audibly, Tarlac watched legs and feet approach. When they were about a meter away, he surged into a forward lunge under the Traiti's blade, bringing his own weapon flashing up to rest with the tip just under Valkan's ribs, angled to stab unopposed into his heart. The exercise hall was silent, the unexpected move catching even the match judge by surprise; it was a few immobile seconds before he could declare Tarlac the winner.