For Joann-- Swordspoint

"Again."

The old swordsman -- who wasn't all that old, really; not in age, at any rate -- had a voice that was as cold as the steel of his weapon. He strolled around his pupil, hands clasped behind his back, eyes narrowed in a disapproving scowl. The boy showed promise, if not actual skill. In time he would become a worthy successor. In time. And in time, his mind would be focused entirely on the sword, on the thrust and turn of blood and battle. In time, that would be all he would need.

"Again."

Richard sighed and raised his sword.