Greusel remained silent, but Ebearhard laughed and spoke.
“You came deliberately to the conclusion that it was unwise to attack Furstenberg. Now, because of Kurzbold’s lack of courtesy, you deflect from your own mature judgment, and hastily jump into a course opposite to that which you marked out for yourself after sober, unbiased thought.”
“My dear Ebearhard, the duty of a commander is to give, and not to receive, commands.”
“Quite so. Command and suggestion are merely words, as you yourself pointed out, saying that they did not matter.”
“In that, Ebearhard, I was wrong. Words do matter, although Kurzbold wasn’t clever enough to correct me. For example, I hold no man in higher esteem than yourself, yet you might use words that would cause me instantly to draw my sword upon you, and fight until one or other of us succumbed.”
Ebearhard laughed.
“You put it very flatteringly, Roland. Truth is, you’d fight till I succumbed, my swordsmanship being no match for yours. I shall say the words, however, that will cause you to draw your sword, and they are: Commander, I will stand by you whatever you do.”
“And I,” said Greusel curtly.
Roland shook hands in turn with the two men.
“Right,” he cried. “If we are fated to go down, we will fall with banners flying.”