One minute Q-Tip's cracking jokes at these two screwby strangers in the woods, clearly nobles from the shine of their horses' bits and halter and the glint of the ring on the blond's finger, and the next his knife is at this throat. He looks over, expecting Christeson to be getting this situation under control, but Johnnyboy is standing there with the point of his own sword, dull though it is, pressing right beneath his adam's apple, which bobs crazily when he swallows nervously.