There was a harsh grind of steel on steel, culminating in a resounding lest, and Fortunio was back in the guard-room, whither he had leapt to save his skin.

A pause fell at that, and Garnache lowered his point to rest his arm until they should again come at him.

From beyond the doorway the captain called upon him to yield.

He took the summons as an insult, and flew into a momentary passion.
"Yield ?" he roared.

"Yield to you, you cut-throat scum?
You shall have my sword if you will come for it, but you shall have it in your throat." Angered in his turn, Fortunio inclined his head to his companion's ear, issuing an order.