Ignacio brought his sword to bear again. “Stand down, Lieutenant Stefanelli.”

The man standing before Ignacio was easily a head taller than he and broader across the shoulders, but he had killed bigger men before. The lieutenant’s anger would work against him.

When their blades met, Ignacio shifted his weight onto his back foot and circled Stefanelli’s sword around his wrist, before forcing it away. For a moment there seemed to be an opening, but the sunlight suddenly blazed from Stefanelli’s weapon, dazzling Ignacio and forcing him to swing blindly. Fortunately he connected with Stefanelli’s attack before it could pierce his belly and forced the tip of the weapon down into the sand.

Ignacio stepped back and circled around to his right, so that the sun was now on his left, and moved to attack.

Stefanelli was a fraction too late to turn Ignacio’s blade and he cried out as a deep cut appeared in his right bicep. Whatever zeal and righteous hatred drove him on enabled him to keep hold of his sword, but his forearm was now soaked with blood and he was visibly pained.

“Stand down, Lieutenant Stefanelli.” Ignacio said again, meeting the man’s gaze with his own, trying to match the look of righteous fury that he saw there.

“Angelo, this is insanity,” Brother Sebastian said. “Please, do what Ignacio says, just until we get this misunderstanding sorted out.”

Lieutenant Stefanelli didn’t respond to the priest’s pleas; instead he moved in on Ignacio again, swinging his sword in low, coming in close and stepping so that Ignacio had to turn to face the sun.