A green-scented breeze fills the air. Townspeople appear, going about their business. A few slow as they pass near the pub, attracted by the loud, angry sounds that are growing louder with each second. I draw back slightly, an unseen witness, then watch as the brawl explodes through the door and spills down the steps into the street. Women clasp their cheeks and roll their eyes in resigned shock.
Men follow the knot of combatants, throwing their own fists in the air and shouting encouragement.
I catch glimpses of Michael in the center of the fight. Tom and Harry are deep in it too, protecting him as much as themselves from the worst of it. The Doctor is on the fringes, alternating between priestly pleas to halt and victory whoops when a telling blow lands. Neelix comes staggering out of the pub, trying to catch up with the action. As the struggle moves down the street, Michael disappears from my sight, and I feel a shudder run through me.