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Sharpe is not in a good mood. The situations with Angela and Blodwen are combining to send him into a worse and worse temper, especially since he doesn't know what to do about either of them.

He's sitting by the Bar, eyeing the lake door and considering going outside to see if running until he's too tired to think might help.

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"And...you are surprised by this?"

"If she meant no harm by it, then she should damn well give it back when the lad wants it. He was in no state to go and ask for it himself. Mary says she's a liar, and I'm inclined to agree."

Mordred snorts, lightly, and doesn't say a word.

"Why are you so damn blind?" Sharpe demands, frustrated. "She's a risk to the whole bloody bar as long as she's free. Because she doesn't just hit the people that provoke her, does she. Bitch hits the ones foolish enough to be taken in."

"Like you?"

"Me. Caspian. Half a dozen others at least. Folk who did nothing wrong but talk to her at the wrong time, just talk and touch that damned knitting when she offered it. And she attacked us."

A quick shrug.

"That's what the two weeks were for."

"Aye, and I'm not arguing that. But if she did it once, provoked or not, she'll do it again."

"If, if, if, you can't punish someone for if!. Can't punish them, can't shut them up, can't kill them."

Mordred's voice is fast, and his eyes bright. May Day, all those children and parents screaming and crying because Merlin said 'he will'.

"She did do it once, Mordred!" Sharpe snaps, circling almost unconsciously. "And I don't know what set her off, but from what you've said she's easy to provoke, and we can't control every person in this bar to stop that happening! It will happen again."

"Potentially."

"Are you willing to take the risk? You'll vouch for her, maybe?"

Sarcastic.

A long moment.

"No, I will not. Vouch for her."

"You know it's coming, Mordred. Sooner or later, it's coming. That woman's a cold bitch with too much power for what she's willing to do with it, and it's all going to blow up."

Mordred doesn't think. He doesn't pause, don't think, just sends his fist into Sharpe's face. It's not that the other man called her a 'bitch', though that didn't help.

It's because, deep down, he knows that Sharpe is right.

Sharpe rocks back for an instant, his eye already starting to swell.

Then he grins, ferally, and launches a hard punch of his own at Mordred's jaw.

It's on.

The shorter, younger man staggers back, and then he just throws himself at Sharpe in a rough tackle.

It was telegraphed, but Sharpe lets himself be knocked backward anyway, twisting as he falls to drive a fist into Mordred's stomach.

The fight is short, but brutal. Both are soldiers, both tense and haven't fought in a long time, so in a way it's a relief just to have this in which to punchhitkickfight and not worry about the consequences.

It's Mordred that pulls back, though. When he starts to taste blood, feels himself losing seconds and his movement become jerky, like a film-strip missing some frames, he just shakes his head and gasps,

"Enough."

This is not and never was a real fight, one for any purpose except for its own sake, and certainly not meant to be to the death, so Sharpe stops readily enough.

He's feeling it too, after all, in his bruises and his aching scars.

"You all right?" he asks gruffly.

"Dead," comes the short answer. He's bent over, hands on his knees and trying to get his breath back. Straightening up, he tilts his head to the sky and runs his tongue across his teeth.

"Fine. Just...dead."

"Good as it gets then, eh?" comes the wry answer, as Sharpe drops carefully to sit on the ground.

He's not as young as he was, though still fit.

A brief laugh.

"Pretty much." And he sets himself onto the ground, rubbing the bruise on his jaw with a wince. "Been away from home too long, I think. Harder to concentrate."

Mordred's young, in body anyway. Not quite twenty, fit as anything when he died.

"Going home helps?" Sharpe asks curiously. "Like... a refresher?"

"Makes sense, yeah? Used to go find my grave when I was haunting, and been away for over a year."