you? I could preach a sermon or dance a hornpipe while I am killing
you. I will not break my sword against your coat of mail, but will
wait until you fall from weakness and then.... Fight, you bloodhound!"

Judson was pale from exhaustion, and his breath was coming in gasps as
he tried to keep the merciless sword from his throat. At last, by a
dexterous twist of his blade, Brandon sent Judson's sword flying
thirty feet away. The fellow started to run, but turned and fell upon
his knees to beg for life. Brandon's reply was a flashing circle of
steel, and his sword point cut lengthwise through Judson's eyes and
the bridge of his nose, leaving him sightless and hideous for life. A
revenge compared to which death would have been merciful.

The duel created a sensation throughout the kingdom, for although
little was known as to who Judson was, his fame as a duelist was as
broad as the land. He had been at court upon several occasions, and,
at one time, upon the king's birthday, had fought in the royal lists.
So the matter came in for its share of consideration by king and
courtiers, and young Brandon became a person of interest. He became
still more so when some gentlemen who had served with him in the
continental wars told the court of his daring and bravery, and related
stories of deeds at arms worthy of the best knight in Christendom.

He had an uncle at the court, Sir Thomas Brandon, the king's Master of
Horse, who thought it a good opportunity to put his nephew forward
and let him take his chance at winning royal favor. The uncle broached
the subject to the king, with favorable issue, and Charles Brandon,
led by the hand of fate, came to London Court, where that same fate
had in keeping for him events such as seldom fall to the lot of man.