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"It's not exactly a problem, sir, and I'm not quite sure how to approach it, even with a battle-companion. You're familiar with our custom of personal fealty." That was a statement, not a question, but Medart nodded. "Very familiar; I'm also battle-companion to Lord Klaes' 'na, Gaelan-Frederick DarShona. Who are you planning on offering fealty to?" As if he couldn't guess, he thought.
While it would be dishonorable for you to fight a battle-companion, he is not truly such though I agree the resemblance will make this duel more difficult." "Yeah. Don't say anything, though, okay? At least till it's over." "As you wish, James." The last few steps to introduction distance were silent. Medart used them to study his opponent, apprehension growing.
His people should know how and why he died." "Yes, they should." Ryan turned at the unfamiliar voice, to see the warrior Nevan. He'd been healed, though his clothing still showed the effects of battle. "I'm pleased you agree, warrior. Now that the combat is over, I'm free to tell you he knew your avatar in his home universe, and claimed him as battle-companion of a century's standing."
He unhooked the lightsaber from his belt, held it where the Sandeman could see. "I was bequeathed this by the warrior Leigh of Clan Vader, for giving him Last Gift. Both he and the warrior Keith, of Clan Lewies, named me as battle-companion for that service, and I have never claimed the life-debt owed by either clan." "You know things you should not, Prince James," the Sandeman said.
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