‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. Ennison, or any other young man. That was life. His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. " "I agree to that. Then he remembered that she was Anna’s sister.
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