They crossed swords dozens of times. The Countess was good but Sybil was better. Each time the Countess over extended even a fraction, Sybil capatalized on it and delivered another red stripe across the green of the Countess’ dress.

Confident in her victory and the righteousness of her cause, Sybil switched from the defensive Monticello stance to the more offensive Staccati and began to attack in earnest. With precise strikes, she drove the Countess back three steps, when suddenly the Countess surged forward, met her advance and violently twisted.

Sybil gaped as her sword went flying across the room. It clattered across the marble floor with a sound that reminded her of her time in manacles and leg irons.

The Countess pointed her sword at the now empty-handed Sybil. “Now that’s over, I hearby charge thee with foul treason.”

Sybil quickly recovered he composure and smiled mockingly. “You know if you would have waited a little longer, we would have sought you out and charged you with the same thing.”