STO'B 2

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The other man rolled onto his knees and picked himself up. Phillip saw that he was a small man, perhaps two-thirds of Phillip's weight, with bristly, close-cropped hair and dark eyes. He looked pale apart from a blotch of pink on his forehead, where he had struck the ground on falling. The man's dusty black coat suggested that he was a mere civilian, not a sailor or a marine, or even someone from the army. He opened his mouth to speak but Phillip cut him off.

"Why can't you bloody well watch where you're going, hey?" Phillip shouted. He felt in command of the situation and he advanced on the man in the black coat, knowing that Black Coat would fall back and then he, Phillip, would have established his victory.

But Black Coat did not retreat. Instead, he crouched to receive Phillip's attack, and now for the first time Phillip noticed a basket-hilted sword at the man's hip. Phillip's own sword was in hock; he had hoped to ransom it with an advance on his pay from the Rattler. If he advanced, and if this man knew how to use his sword - a big if - then Phillip risked real injury. If he retreated - no, he could not retreat. His pride, his honor, would not allow it.

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Author's note: STO'B will update on Sundays