And he too switched hands, and now the battle was finally joined. And Inigo began to retreat. «Who are you?» he screamed. «No one of import. Another lover of the blade.» «I must know!» «Get used to disappointment.» They flashed along the open plateau now, and the blades were both invisible, but oh, the Earth trembled, and ohhhh, the skies shook, and Inigo was losing. He tried to make for the trees, but the man in black would have none of it. He tried retreating to the boulders, but that was denied him too. And in the open, unthinkable as it was, the man in black was superior. Not much. But in a multitude of tiny ways, he was of a slightly higher quality. A hair quicker, a fraction stronger, a speck faster. Not really much at all. But it was enough. They met in center plateau for the final assault. Neither man conceded anything. The sound of metal clashing metal rose. A final burst of energy flew through Inigo's veins and he made every attempt, tried every trick, used every hour of every day of his years of experience. but he was blocked. by the man in black. he was shackled. by the man in black. he was baffled, thwarted, muzzled. Beaten. By the man in black. A final flick and the great six-fingered sword went flying from his hand. Inigo stood there, helpless.

Chapter 5