"There is a gentleman waiting to see you, sir," Stephen Saradine's servant informed him, bowing respectfully.

"I shalt come down to him at once," replied Sir Saradine. His servant showed him where the gentleman was standing in the castle's entry hall. The gentleman was obviously a young knight, even though his attire was of the cheaper and slightly shabbier sort. He wore little armor, and was wearing chain mail instead of a breastplate. He had a few servants with him, all of whom were well built, and one of whom was carrying a large black case.

"Thy name," said the young knight without preamble, "is Sir Saradine?"

"Yea," replied Sir Saradine. "Who art thou, and what dost thou wish of me?"

"If thou art Sir Saradine," said the young knight, "then I shalt tell thee that my name is Antonelli."

"Antonelli..." mused Sir Saradine. "I might perchance recall that name."

"Permit me to present myself," young Sir Antonelli said, removing a gauntlet. He then caught Sir Saradine with such a ringing crack across the face with it that Sir Saradine stumbled back a few steps.

"I challenge thee to a trial of arms," declared Sir Antonelli.

"And I accept!" cried Sir Saradine vindictively, with a flushed face. He led the way outside, striding rather aggressively.

The party halted in a large, relatively flat clearing. Sir Antonelli's servant opened the large black case upon his order, and revealed two fine dueling swords. Sir Antonelli stuck the swords into the ground.

"Sir Saradine," said Sir Antonelli, "when I wast but an infant thou murdered my father and stole mine own mother. My father wast the more fortunate of the two. Thou didst not kill him with fairness, as I shalt kill thee. Thou and mine wicked mother threw him bodily from a precipice and left along thine own way. I could mayhap imitate thy actions if I so chose; yet the imitation of thou 'twould be too vile. I hath followed thee from the end of the world and back, and thou hast always fled from me, like the cowardly rapscallion thou truly are. Thou hast broken the Code of Chivalry, and thou dost not deserve to be called knight. Yet now thine end hath come upon thee. Thou art in my grasp, and I-I giveth thee the chance thou nev'r gaveth my father. Choose one of these swords."

Sir Saradine, his cheek still stinging from the blow of the gauntlet, sprang forward and snatched up one of the hilts.

"Let the trial of arms begin," Sir Antonelli said.

Sir Saradine leapt forward and they crossed swords. With a clang and a clash, the duel began. Whirling around each other, each with one arm behind his back, they fought as professionals. No finer duel had ever been seen. They danced forward, backward, whirled to the side, jumped to the back, for a fair ten or fifteen minutes. But then the ringing of the swords quickened to a rattle, and Sir Saradine's arms flew up, his sword flying from his grasp. Sir Antonelli's sword point, catching Sir Saradine off guard, was thrust between his shoulder blades. Sir Saradine fell backward to the ground, and his fall seemed to shake the foundations of the earth.

Sir Antonelli stood still for a moment, but then sighed in a peaceful manner, and relaxed his sword arm. "And thus my life and my mission hath been fulfilled,' he said. Then, looking up to the sky, he cried: "I hath avenged thee, father!"

Or so he thought.