"I know — so much is the shame!" replied Boyce just as Orren swung his sword down at him.
Boyce caught the attack with his sabre and he spun around deflecting
Orren's sword out and away from him.
Orren momentarily lost his balance but regained it in time to defend himself against Boyce's attack. They moved around a large area while they brandished their blades at one another.
Boyce's men watched-on in worry and with heated excitement, many of them twitching and grinding their teeth with each whiz and clang of the blades.
The coenobite army watched-on also but they didn't display concern for Orren. Each man's face was expressionless, and they made no movements throughout the fight.
"You fight well!" Orren complimented Boyce.
"Thank-you …" Boyce grunted. " … and you fight, like a pregnant old woman!"
He hurled his sabre horizontally at Orren, but Orren came down on it sending the end to the ground and slashed-out at Boyce.
Boyce lurched back in pain. The armour plating on his chest had a large gash in it and blood was spurting out from the cut.
"You will soon die, Boyce. Be still and I will end it painlessly!'
Orren offered to him.