CRACK! Metal cracking sharply against bone echoed loudly in Malik's ears as the templar's staff caught Emilio in the face, sending the boy sprawling into the dirt. The templar, Sir Gareth, stared down at the young Lord as if daring Emilio to stay down.
"No one," Gareth lectured smugly, "is immune to pain." He flicked blood from the tip of the long, black staff. "To surrender in the face of an unrelenting foe is death." The exercise had not called for the templar to draw the long sword that remained sheathed at his side. The staff looked like simple wood but after it connected a few times, Malik knew better. It had a lead core. "Stay down, Little Lord and you may yet be able to eat an apple tomorrow."
