CHAPTER 29The words seemed to be blown in by a sudden wind, ruffling around the hall. No one had heard the door open, but we all heard it close. Paralysed, everyone stared towards it, and I, peering over Humphrey’s suddenly limp arm, felt my heart try to jump out of my strangling throat.
He wore a helmet glinting red and orange from the flaming torch above his head. His wild, gold hair streamed out from under it like a warrior angel’s train over leather tunic and breastplate. His arms and legs were barbarically bare, bulging with muscle. He held an axe loosely in one hand; the other held a sword, just as casually, to a Norman soldier’s neck, while his arm held the man, still choking, below his chest.
He smiled around the silence; a dazzling, dangerous smile. They never guessed how danger
