CHAPTER 16I could not breathe. The world was spinning upwards from my feet to my deafeningly singing ears. I was aware only of him, the mass of his golden hair just stilling about his body as he gazed steadily up at his attacker, prepared, fearless, and curiously unassailable, with that massive sword held unwaveringly above him like fire under the lantern lights.
Then, with recognition came a bolt of fear for him. On top of all the rest.
I don’t know how long it took for the world to rock, and right itself, for me to see beyond the shock and realize that this could not be Hereward. Hereward was young; his eyes held all the turbulence of youthful storms, not the cool hardness I saw now. And Hereward, eternally restless, had never possessed the poise, the stillness, the sheer self-control
