CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE The SwordGalveston sent a guard for me the next morning. Eena struggled to make me ready in time for breakfast and the guard tapped an impatient heel on the floorboards outside. With a look of bemusement, Awamutu escorted me to the new eating hall and seated me next to my host.
The sword drew my attention throughout the torturous meal. Already dull and unloved, its glint held little of its former glory. Yet I loved it with an ache which reached from my toes to the top of my head. Only willpower prevented me lurching across the table and plucking it from the undignified display. My fingers flexed as I allowed myself to imagine how it would move beneath my palms. My chest spasmed with recognition, knowing the weight and inclination of it through instinct, despite having
