Sekler gave up trying, he sat in the chair, quietly waiting for the other to arrive.
The sounds of shouting and clashing weapons grew louder, first at the main entrance on the ground floor, then the staircase, and then the hallway.
Eventually, Sekler's door was kicked open forcefully, and a Venetian, looking like a Blood Man, walked into the room carrying a rolled-edge saber.
His uniform was covered in bloodstains, it was unclear whether it was his own or someone else's. Dark red liquid dripped steadily from his saber, leaving a trail of blood from outside the room.
Winters spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, suddenly starting to cough violently.
"You've come," Sekler gestured with his hand, "Please, take a seat."
Winters threw away the rolled-edge weapon and sat heroically in front of Sekler.
By the dim candlelight, they looked at each other.