He could hear it when he swam backup into pain filled consciousness. He slitted his eyes open, his headthrobbed where the helm had crashed into it and...his body was bruisedunderneath the mail where the impact of the contents of Isabeau's roomhad struck him. Dim light filtered to his eyes from somewhere off toone side. He had been moved. A familiar odor assaulted his nose, one hehad smelled far to often over the years since he had rode away from hisfathers holding. He opened his eyes wider and. Nobody there. I threw the door open and rushed outside. I looked both ways and then saw him. I was sure it was a him. He had a dark haired girl I had seen earlier pinned against the wall, his face at her throat. She was still alive, her hands striking feebly at him but I could tell it wouldn’t be long. After all, he didn’t care. He wasn’t trying to judge how much blood he took and err on the side of caution. He was there for a kill. I jumped him. He was so enthralled he didn’t know I was there. More

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