The argument started with a loud thump and a huge clatter.

"Again you lose!" Glade shouted triumphantly, venom in his words.

Tala and Lawri turned, as did their six Silver Guard escorts. Lindholf lay flat on his back in the center of the granite-tiled hall, helm flung aside. He swiped a smear of blood from his brow with the back of his hand. Lawri sighed in exasperation, holding her left arm gingerly at her side. Again Tala's cousin wore a long dress, the white bandage around her injured arm hidden under the long sleeve. Tala did not know who had wrapped Lawri's arm. That fact that Jovan had cut Lawri so severely during the struggle for his dagger was still horrifying, even though it had been an accident.

"Stand up!" Glade ordered Lindholf. "Stand up and try to pick my pocket again!" He pointed his sackcloth-wrapped sword at Lindholf.

"Leave me alone," Lindholf muttered as he stood and gathered his gear.

Glade took a fighter's stance, readying himself. Both boys were still dressed in their practice gear: light armor, half-helms, and sackcloth-wrapped Silver Guard swords. Earlier they had been practicing swordsmanship with King Jovan in Greengrass Courtyard, their tutelage under Val-Draekin and Seita at an end. Everyone at court did as Jovan Bronachell bade them do now. Both Tala and Lawri wore dresses, neither wanting to incite any anger in their king. Lawri wore a rose-colored gown with sleeves long enough to cover the wound on her arm.

"Come at me!" Glade taunted, tearing the sackcloth from his sword. "I dare you!"

Lindholf brushed himself off, digging behind his chest plate with one bony hand, adjusting his armor. He suddenly ripped the hand free and sniffed at it hungrily.

"You're barking mad," Glade growled. Lindholf stripped the cloth from his sword and brandished it before Glade.

One of the Silver Guards chuckled, "Looks like our two little lordlings are finally gonna go at it. Let's place a wager. I say two swings and both these clodpoles go ass over teapot and the fight's done." The laughter of the other five guards disgusted Tala. Lazy dullards! They weren't going to do anything.

Lawri placed herself between the two combative boys. "Put your swords down and cease this nonsense."

"Out of my way, stupid bitch!" With his free hand, Glade shoved Lawri to the ground. Lindholf swung. Glade whirled, his blade blocking Lindholf's blow, their naked blades creating a hollow thunk that echoed through corridor. Glade held his sword at the ready, both hands wrapped tightly around the hilt. "Coward," he snarled, swinging at Lindholf's head.

Lindholf parried. "I will cow to you no more," he said. "And you will not touch my sister like that again."

Glade remained relaxed, shifted his weight, sword poised as he moved to the side. Lindholf's sword point followed the other boy's movement. They began to circle each other, neither flinching. Lindholf feinted to the right with a sudden shift of the shoulder. Glade read the feint and forced him away with a lunge, cutting into his exposed wrist, drawing blood. Lindholf struggled back, nearly falling. Tala's heart sank. But Lindholf collected himself swiftly, stepped forward, and brought his blade up in a neat slice, breaking past Glade's guard, grazing his armor. Glade lunged at Lindholf with murder in his eyes, sword humming through the air.

A cloud of white chalk suddenly appeared between the two combatants. There was a loud clap and a sudden burst of flame flashed before Glade's startled face. He stumbled back in fear. The fireball vanished.