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Fred laughed in a lordly manner. He pulled off one glove and slapped
Velus' face with it. "I challenge you to a duel, peasant boy!" he said.
Velus flushed with anger and glared at Fred from under his thick, ill-cut
fringe. "You're on" he growled, but his heart was pounding. Here he was,
facing a grown man with all the training of a lord, and he just a 14 year
old peasant.
"We need weapons" observed Fred "Our swords have been destroyed by the
dragon's juices, so we will have to use our daggers-"
"Just a minute" interrupted Astra, who was starting to feel sorry that she
had suggested the duel "You challenged Velus, so HE chooses the weapons,
remember?"
Fred's jaw dropped and for the first time he looked a little uncertain
about the idea of a duel. Then he recovered his composture and sneered
"Yes, that's right. What will it be, boy, pig-food buckets at dawn? Ha ha
ha!"
Velus, in the meantime, was feeling much better. There WERE weapons that
lords did not use, but yeomen did. His life depended on choosing the right
one. "Alright," he said, squaring his shoulders and glaring boldly back at
Fred "I choose
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