The swords crossed with a simple clang announcing the beginning of the duel. The patrons all stood, startled, backing up toward the walls as the combatants began their debate. Some protest of the proprietor went unheard. Again, each swordsman tried to make the other concede to his point. Alas, it was to no immediate avail. Post followed riposte, and parry riposte. They danced, the two swordsmen and death with them, an awkward third wheel hoping for a partner.
Outside a blind beggar shook a cup and jingled his coins. “Alms,” he called, knowing and caring nothing about the matter inside.
Tale Told 