She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous. The miserable woman staggered, uttered a deep groan, and fell senseless on the straw.
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