"Asturians have no honor," the baron sneered.

Lelldorin immediately went for his sword.

"Nay, my young friend," Mandorallen said, restraining the impetuous youth. "The insult hath been delivered here on Mimbrate soil. Thus it is my responsibility and pleasure to answer it." He stepped forward. "Thy words were perhaps hasty, my Lord," he said politely to the arrogant baron. "I pray thee, reconsider them."

“I have said what I have said, Sir Knight,” the young hothead declared.

"Thou hast spoken discourteously to a revered counselor of the king," Mandorallen said firmly, "and thou hast delivered a mortal insult unto our brethren of the north.”

"I have no Asturian brethren," the knight declared. "I do not deign to acknowledge kinship with miscreants and traitors."

Mandorallen sighed. "I pray thee, forgive me, your Majesty," he apologized to the king. "Mayhap thou wouldst have the ladies withdraw, for I propose to speak bluntly."

No force on earth, however, could have dragged the ladies of the court from the throne room at that time.

Mandorallen turned back toward the insolently sneering baron. "My Lord," the great knight said distantly, "I find thy face apelike and thy form misshapen. Thy beard, moreover, is an offense against decency, resembling more closely the scabrous fur which doth decorate the hinder portion of a mongrel dog than a proper adornment for a human face. Is it possible that thy mother, seized by some wild lechery, did dally at some time past with a randy goat?"

The baron went livid and he spluttered, unable to speak.

"Thou seemeth wroth, my Lord," Mandorallen said to him in that same deceptively mild tone, "or mayhap thine unseemly breeding hath robbed thy tongue of human speech." He looked critically at the baron. "I do perceive, my Lord, that thou art afflicted with cowardice as well as lack of breeding, for, in truth, no man of honor would endure such deadly insult as those which I have delivered unto thee without some response. Therefore, I fear I must goad thee further." He removed his gauntlet.

As all the world knew, it was customary to hurl one's gauntlet to the floor when issuing a challenge. Mandorallen somehow missed the floor. The young baron staggered backward, spitting teeth and blood. "Thou art no longer a youth, Sir Mandorallen," he raged. "Long hast thou used thy questionable reputation to avoid combat. Methinks it is time for thee to be truly tried."

"It speaks," Mandorallen said with feigned astonishment. "Behold this wonder, my Lords and Ladies a talking dog."

The court laughed at that.

"Let us proceed to the lower court, my Lord of Fleas," Mandorallen continued. "Mayhap a pass at arms with so elderly and feeble a knight shall give thee entertainment."