As soon as Diego heard Altayr's footsteps, his hand slid into the pouch of his shirt where he had a knife. He spun around, unleashing the torrent of bitterness, jealousy and anger that had been building in him...forgetting he was dealing with a ballet master...not knowing that Altayr had also studied martial arts for a time. Quickly, Altayr sized up his unwonted opponent and his stance. He launched himself at Diego, kicking the blade from Diego's hand. He made note Diego was left-handed. He was also drunk. The knife went skittering across the paves of the courtyard. Diego only grunted slightly at the pain of the hard kick, numb to most feeling from liquor. He charged at Altayr like a mad bull. Altayr lunged toward him whipping his legs from beneath him with a leg-hook and Diego went to the paves. Altayr dropped on top of Diego, who'd had the wind knocked out of him but was still snarling and struggling against him. It was as if he'd gone completely mad or was possessed by his own demons - or both. Diego broke one arm loose from Altayr's grip and his hand came up around Altayr's throat, trying to choke him. Diego was stronger in the upper body than Altayr, but Altayr was quicker. He let go of Diego's left arm and plastered him in the side of the head with a hard right hook. Diego's grip on his neck loosened and his eyes rolled in his head. Altayr knocked his arm away and pushed himself forward, pinning Diego's arms to the ground under his legs. Diego writhed beneath him attempting to break free and cursing a blue streak, summoning every insult he could think of. The insults didn't phase Altayr. He'd heard them all and the fact was, he had Diego pinned. What to do with him now? He knew Diego wasn't about to give up. He obviously wanted Altayr dead and wouldn't stop until he'd accomplished that, but Altayr did not want to kill Diego. He'd brought all his problems on himself and they were not Altayr's fault - unless just being alive and there counted. No doubt they did, in Diego's mind. It was obviously a disturbed and dark place. There was only one option open, as far as Altayr could reason. He punched Diego in the jaw - left and right. Bam, bam! And Diego fell still - out cold. Altayr pressed his fingers to Diego's jugular vein. Blood was still pumping. His breathing shallow, but he was still breathing. One of the local constables ran up to see what the commotion was about and found Altayr getting up from Diego's prone body. "What is this!" "He attacked me with that knife when I came out of the house," Altayr said. "You must take him and put hand-cuffs on him. He is loco, like a crazy bull!!!" The constable knew he was telling the truth, because Sancha had told Marco that Diego was going after Altayr with one of their kitchen knives. The knife lay nearby. Marco had called his friend, the Head Constable and told him to send someone to the house. Another constable came running up then. "Are you alright?" "Mostly," Altayr smiled wanly rubbing at his bruised neck. "Take him before he comes to or you will have a terror on your hands. Do you know...is Sancha alright?" "I don't know, senor. Go. We will take care of him!" ***** tbc Thanks so much for stopping by dear friends! I hope your week is going better than mine is :-9 Not terrible, just one things after another. Cheers, Ray