Doyle and Barinthus hurried back to the Feast Hall.  Queen Andais 
said nothing as Doyle took up his place beside her chair.  He stood 
there silently.  Outwardly, he looked calmed, bored even.  Inside, he 
was worried.  'I've been gone half a day and some one's already 
attacked the Princess,' kept running through his mind.

Suddenly, Queen Andais clapped her hands.  Everyone looked at her 
expectantly.  "It is time for some entertainment.  I am bored.  Who 
would like to challenge Doyle and entertain me?"

Siobhan stepped forward.  "I would, my Queen.  Doyle,"  she 
continued, "I challenge you to a duel of first blood.  You are one of 
the reasons my Prince had to suffer for the five months he did.  Do 
you accept?"

'Damn', Doyle thought.  'I guess they've never heard of save the best 
for last.'  Siobhan was the Captian of Cel's guards.  She was not his 
equal, when he was whole.  With the poison in his blood, she could 
possibly best him.

"And what does the victor gain?" he asked.

Siobhan smiled sickly.  "The a choice of the other's weapons."

A murmur ran through the court.  Siobhan wanted Mortal Death.  Doyle 
glanced at Barinthus.  Barinthus looked concerned.  

Doyle had no choice.  If he wanted to get out of the Court tonight, 
he had to accept the duel.  If he didn't, he would find himself in 
the punishment chamber for the rest of the night.  First blood 
wouldn't kill him.  But he would lose Mortal Death if he lost.  He 
would be giving Cel a way to kill Merry and the rest of her guard.  
If he didn't accept the duel, he would not be there to protect 
Merry.  Frost was the only one of the guards he felt was his equal.  
Eventually, Merry would be some place without Frost.  Frost couldn't 
stay awake forever.

"I accept the duel on the terms of first blood and winner getting 
choice of the other's weapons, with the added term of no magic."  He 
bowed to the Queen.  He saw Kevames smirking in satisfaction.  'He is 
involved in this move agianst Merry somehow.'

"Agreed."  Siobhan unsheathed her sword.  Doyle did the same.

Doyle moved out onto the floor, and the duel began.  At first, 
Siobhan and him traded easy blows, testing each other.  Then 
suddenly, she came at him as hard as he could.  

Doyle's arm began to shake as he moved Mortal Death to guard agianst 
Siobhan's blows.  The poison was taking its toll faster.  The 
increased activity was causing his heart to beat quicker.  The poison 
was circulating twice as fast as it would have.  Doyle gripped the 
sword with both hands and began to press Siobhan back.  Slowly.

The pale white Sidhe looked alarmed for a second.  They backed up to 
where Siobhan was pressed agianst the nearest table.  She looked 
scared.  Then she reached the hand not holding her sword behind her.  
She shoved Doyle back with her sword hand and throw a knife at him 
with the other hand.

Doyle felt the knife slide into him just under his rib cage.  The 
shock of it took him to his knees.  He reached up to pull it out.  He 
gritted his teeth agianst the pain of touching it.  It was all he was 
able to do not to cry out.  Doyle refused to give Cel and his 
followers that satisfaction.  Doyle began to pull the knife out.  It 
didn't move.  He realize the blade point was inbedded his ribs.  
Right where the bottom one connected with his spine.

Slowly he stood up.  He bowed as best as he could to the Queen.  Then 
he turned to Siobhan.  He knelt carefully, ignoring the waves of 
black pain that flashed through his mind.  Blood was beginning to 
soak down his shirt.  He layed Mortal Death at Siobhan's feet.  He 
watched her pick it up.  Then, Doyle's world went black.