The Knights

"Harsh," Anne whispered from her place in the stands.

"Haha!" Edwith cried, hearing her, "Die, evil one."- then, more feebly- "Die, die."

"Nev-a!" Dominic coughed back, lifting the horse's hoof off the cloth and eyeing the damage with worry. They went on relentlessly. At last, Dominic brought Edwith off Wendall and battered him into the grass. Both of them whirled about, kicking and screaming warcries and hitting each other on the arms with their weapons. Wendall wandered off to the bushes after a bit as Edwith and Dominic got so deeply engrossed with their fight.
The spectators were beginning to get bored and the cheers sounded rather deflated when suddenly, there was Edwith, stained with mud and blood coiling from a scab on his knee, but standing, his sword pressed into Dominic's adams apple. He put his foot on Dominic's chest and his side roared with glee.

"You OK?" the boy said, kneeling down after a minute of getting his breath back. His friend glanced at his skinned elbows and winced as he touched the graze on his cheek. Then, with a toothy smile said,

"Yeah."