39

You're fair exhausted with mental exertion by the time the Duel is near its close (though you'd not dare let Baggage know how weary you are).

"Have you enjoyed yourselves so far, Jellies and Ladlepots?" Baggage calls out, throwing his hands wide. Applause shakes the room. At least, you feel, you and your rival seem to have put on a compelling show together.

"The time has come for our closing arguments. As the victor of the coin toss I just completed in secret with an invisible half-crown, I shall go first."

The crowd chuckles as Baggage takes his space in the center of the stage. He gestures towards where the bulk of the Gramercy party is sitting, and a pair of martial musicians stand up amongst them. One begins a plaintive melody on a deep northern wooden flute, while the other begins a soft tattoo on a talking drum. To their music, Baggage begins to dance.

The room goes quiet. He's a marvel to behold. For all his lankiness and the happy-go-lucky way he's carried himself to now, you had no idea he was also capable of such expressive grace. You can feel the audience leaning forward to soak the moment in, delighting subconsciously in the contrast between what they've seen before and what they're witnessing now.

How delightful, you think as he concludes and there are patches of standing ovation across the room. You get to follow that.

Onward