He did not see the Spaniard before him, nor Braxton Wyatt, the renegade, nor the surrounding woods, but he saw instead great states and mighty cities.
The Spaniard, despite his displeasure, was impressed by the words of the youth, but he took hold of himself bodily, as it were, and shook off the spell.

A challenging light sprang into his cold blue eyes.
"I do not know so much about warriors," he said, "but kings may be and are able to do what they will.

If my master should choose to put forth his strength, even to send his far-extended arm into these woods, to what would your tiny settlements amount?
A pinch of sand before a puff of wind.
Whiff! You are gone.

Nor could your people east of the mountains help you, because they, on bended knee, will soon be receiving their own lesson from the King of England." Francisco Alvarez snapped his fingers, as if Paul and his people were annihilated by a single derisive gesture.

Paul reddened and a dangerous flash came into his eyes.