Sour grapes

From book 1 in the Sureshot trilogy The Sureshot Rises

“You there,” the middle one began, “you are that woodsman that shot against Captain Tarbon today?”

“What business is it of yours?” asked Durbar trying to act tough in the hope that he could intimidate them into leaving him alone.

“I’ll tell you what business it is of ours,” returned the man, his voice a growl like a dog about to bite, “He is our captain, and we don’t like any dirty woodsman disrespecting him like you did.”

“I didn’t disrespect him. I just beat him, that’s all,” Durbar reasoned.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. You shouldn’ a done that. Now we are gunna beat you!”

The man’s eyes flared in rage. He and his friends all clenched their fists. Durbar tried to think of a way out quickly, but he couldn’t find one. He leapt out of his chair and stood ready, with his back against the wall. One of the men threw the table out of the way, and the other two jumped at the bowman. One swung at his face, but his movements were too slow and laborious because of too much drink. Durbar ducked and hit the man in the gut. Another one swung to hit his face as he was coming up but Durbar blocked his high punch with his left arm and jabbed him in the face with his right fist. With two of the men temporarily disabled and falling to the floor, Durbar turned to the one that threw the table, but as he turned to face him, a chair crashed into his head. Durbar’s vision, along with his mind, went black.

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