As he came to me, frowning in puzzlement, Lord Guerney called out from below, "Where’s my daughter, you lily-fingered, girl-voiced scoundrel?"
The Bard stopped and crossed his arms. "By what right do you insult me?"
Lord Guerney pushed his way through the crowd and set his foot on the lowest marble step. He drew his sword and pointed it at Sharp. "Give me my answer, theif – or I’ll cut it out of you!"
Master Iving raised his hand. "Gently, gently – just state your complaint, and Grandmaster Meiltung..."
Lord Guerney moved his sword toward Master Iving. "No more out of you, withered tree, or you’ll never sing again."
With that threat, every Bard with a sword pulled his weapon, and every soldier did likewise. I pushed Elise toward Charles, who pulled her behind his body, and picked up Geldswan. Blades and blood would solve nothing, however, so with a sweeping motion I sheathed my sword.
I was the only one. Everyone else stood tense, waiting for the first shout.
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