Next Michael learnt, as soon as he left Anna Korevna, that there was a new cause to be annoyed. Upon looking at a small sheet hanging near the office of the head, the three friends found out that Michael had not been listed to receive his students grant: a sum of money paid to each pupil of the gardemarini training school. This might not have been so bad to most... But it had not been paid for three years already and Michael had reached his tether. Feeling perfectly justified about his barely controlled fury, he stormed off, with his friends to the deputy heads office.
When they reached the location, Michael bid a small farewell to his friends before opening the door and walking into the room. Upon seeing Kotov, who was the deputy head, in a chair behind his desk, Michael stood stock still, his coldness readable by the look in his eyes. And Kotov too was looking grim at Cossack entering, Cossack being Michaels surname.
"You!" He roared at Cossack. "Who gave you permission to be here!? Out out out!"
Michael stepped forwards a couple of paces, until he was just in front of the desk. His tail trembled with anger at the injustice caused. He kept a steady voice though as he spoke.
"Sir. This is the third year that my grant has not been paid. I will not accept it" the young cats voice scarcely hid his rightful annoyance.
Kotov gave a grimace of fury, something like satisfaction kept secret in his cold eyes. It was clear that the deputy held a strong sense of dislike, amounting to pure hatred towards young Cossack. "That is not your concern, what the school is doing is not to be revealed to the likes of you" replied Kotov, punctuated when his fist hit the table.
Michael felt something snap: his disapproval of the whole training grounds was clear, his hatred and bubbling fury towards the smug deputy was overflowing. Taking a firm step towards Kotov, he burst out in a voice like bitter ice. "The great ctzar built this place to be a place where his loyal soldiers, the muscateers, would fight, where they would learn how to sail the seas and ultimately how to serve their motherland!" His voice was accusatory as he pointed with a trembling paw at Kotov. "You, sir, have disregarded it's real use and turned it into a damned hovel for riding and petty skirmishes"
"Silence! You disrespectful rogue!"
Kotov leapt up, hurrying furiously from his desk and forcefully grappling with Michael. Both the male cats fought each other venomously with claws before Kotov forcefully drove Cossack from the room, literally throwing him out.
As Michael crashed through the door, his waiting friends, as if ready for for this, hurried forwards to help him as he collided with the wall.
Both Nikita and Alexander were bursting with questions that went unanswered. Cossack, glaring murder with his eyes and breathing heavily, grabbed his sword from the bench and rushed headlong through the door, brandishing his blade angrily and demanding for a duel, oblivious to his friends protests.
Struggling free of his friends resistance, Michael fumed into the room, where Kotov met him with a ready blade. The two cats fought furiously against each other, thrusting and parrying and this time aiming to wound as their loathing overtook them. Nikita and Alexander strove to hold back their irate friend and toiled to disrupt the passionate fight before real damage broke out.
All of a sudden, Michaels blade whisked so close to Kotov's head that it sent his white wig flying, revealing a rather moulted bald patch. The three friends covered their mouths but the laughter issued forth otherwise and mirth overtook them as Kotov stared furiously, bewildered and completely humiliated by his predicament and apparent hilarious situation.
Regaining his senses, he dealt Michael a stinging slap to the cheek which sent Cossack reeling backwards into his friends. Taken by shock, Michael retaliated in the same way. Lashing out at Kotov and sending him falling into the basket that held the fighting gear, Michaels slap was a lot more powerful.