‘Give him back his papers of his boat and leave him be,’ the Dog grumbled dangerously coming from behind the table, throwing his cloak over his shoulders for better freedom of movement, reveiling the arsenal he carried.
The fan changed immediately, including the heavily armed stranger.
The young man had also risen to join the side of Angus-Molt and the stranger.
The looks on Rollin’s face and that of his companions changed from pleasurably certain to uncertain fear.
The Dog signalled to the young man who quickly moved to block the way to the door. The Dog noticed that the young man moved sure of himself, had the right way of balance and knew that he knew how to handle his sword.
‘One more time,’ the Dog growled. ‘Give the man back the papers of his boat and leave this ploace alive.’
Rollin snorted and lunged at Angus-Molt as his companions lunged at the Dog and the young man.
Steel on steel send ringing clashes through the room as the six men locked in combat. The fire made the blades glitter in a grizzly light as they tried so very hard to slice and penetrate the others men’s flesh.
Angus-Molt quickly side stepped the thrust of Rollin, knocking the blade aside with his axe while his free hammock fist sent Rollin reeling through the room. Mintor easily blocked the blow aimed at his head and immediately went over to the attack, driving his opponent to the fire.
Angus-Molt saw the Dog move from the corner of his eyes as he dashed after Rollin. He noticed that the Dog didn’t move, but sort of danced as he fought. All was one fluid motion. One stance effortlessly going over into another. A mean grin showed through the rough beard of the sailor as he realised that the heavily armed stranger wasn’t fighting with his opponent, he was playing with him.