Summoning up his courage, Yori approached Sir Toby and bowed low. ‘I understand, sir, the importance of honour and respect. I can assure you that my friend Jack did not wish to offend your good nature or imply that you’re a liar. This is clearly a misunderstanding. So, rather than fight a duel, please accept our sincere apology.’

Sir Toby looked haughtily down his narrow nose at the submissive little monk. ‘Some men are satisfied with words, some content with penance,’ he replied, ‘and others need to be answered with weapons. I, sir, am of this last opinion.’

With that, Sir Toby drew his rapier with a flourish. The weapon was long, slim and pointed as a needle. The ornate handguard was composed of a complex swirl of silver loops and prongs, and the pommel was large and round, a counterweight to the long blade as well as an effective striking ball. Sir Toby flicked the sword several times, its sharp tip whipping through the air with a high-pitched swish. Yori retreated rapidly.

‘Well, it was worth asking,’ consoled Akiko, as wagers started to be made among the crowd on the outcome of the impending fight.

Jack wasn’t put off. Having gained experience of duelling in Japan, he was confident in his own fighting abilities. He was keenly aware that any combat posed the risk of injury, or even death, but he’d been trained in kenjutsu by the greatest swordsman in Japan, Masamoto Takeshi. From him, he’d learnt and mastered the Two Heavens, an almost invincible technique using both the katana and wakizashi. Furthermore, the samurai sword had by far the most lethal and honed blade in the whole world, and looking at the flimsy rapier in Sir Toby’s hand, Jack almost pitied the man’s chances.

‘Is this your second?’ Sir Toby asked him, pointing the tip of his rapier towards Yori. ‘Not much of an opponent for Sir Francis here, but I suppose he’ll do.’

‘Me?’ squeaked Yori, aghast. He glanced at the drunk yet towering gentleman leaning against the tree. ‘I’m no fighter. I’m a monk. I’ve taken a vow of peace.’

Sir Toby shrugged away his protest. ‘But we fight according to the French custom. The seconds on each side duel too.’

Yori backed away, his gaze darting round the crowd like a mouse seeking a bolt-hole.

‘I’ll be Jack’s second,’ said Akiko, stepping up.

Sir Francis’s drooping eyes suddenly popped open. ‘Zounds! The girl really thinks she is a warrior!’

‘You realize this is a man’s fight,’ said Sir Toby condescendingly.

The corner of Akiko’s mouth curled into a faint smile. ‘Then I’ll be gentle with him.’

Laughter burst from the gathered onlookers and the excitement intensified at the prospect of such an unusual match. More eager bets were placed.

‘So be it,’ declared Sir Toby. ‘Edmund, lend her your rapier.’