"If you say a single word—"
Instinctively, the other dropped his hand to his own sword.
"Stop! Both of you!"
And stop they did; no one could mistake the crackling authority in that voice. The commander, unseen in the moving, dim light, had been circling the periphery of the camp, to make sure that all was well. He strode toward the two younger men, who stood silently, shocked into immobility. The commander's sword was already in his hand.
"I'll spit the first man that draws a blade," he snapped.
His keen eyes took in the situation at a glance.
"Lieutenant, what are you doing out of armor?"
"It was hot, sir, and I—"
"Shut up!" The commander's eyes were dangerous. "An asinine statement like that isn't even worth listening to! Get that armor back on! Move!"
He was standing approximately between the two men, who had been four or five yards apart. When the cowed young officer took a step or two back toward his tent, the commander turned toward the other officer. "And as for you, if—"