| It wasn't the wound that would kill himShe watched him, heard the screaming stop, followed by a wet, bubbling soundAnghiar of Barbadior toppled slowly over on one side, mouth still open, blood leaking from his throat onto the carpetAnd then his blue eyes clouded and closed
Catriana looked down at her handsThey were steady as stoneAnd so was the beat of her heartIn a moment that was all the moments in her lifeEntrances and endings
There was a furious pounding on the locked doorFrantic shouting, a panic-stricken volley of curses
She was not yet doneThey could not be allowed to take herShe knew what sorcery could do to the mindIf they had her alive they had all of her gucci handbag friendsThey would know everythingShe was under no illusions, had known there was a final step from the time she formed this plan
They were battering against the door nowIt was large and heavy, would hold a moment or twoShe rose up and put on the gown againShe did not want to be naked now, she couldn't have really said whyBending over the bed she took the Ygrathen weapon, that glittering agency of death, and, careful of the treated blade, laid it beside Anghiar to be quickly foundIt was necessary that it be found
There was a sharp splintering sound from the door, more shouting, a tumult of noise in the corridorShe thought about setting fire to the room, candle to blaze, it balenciaga new yellow bags appealed to her, but no, they had to find Anghiar's body and exactly what had killed himShe opened the casement window and stepped up on the ledgeThe window was elegantly designed, easily tall enough for her to stand upright before itShe looked outward and down for a momentThe room was over the garden, far above itMore than high enoughThe scent of the sejoia trees came drifting up, and the heavy sweetness of tainflowers, and there were other night flowers whose names she did not knowBoth moons had risen now, Vidomni and Ilarion watching herShe looked at them for a moment but it was to Morian she prayed, for it was toward Morian she was crossing, through the last portal tiffany jewelry wholesale of all
She thought of her motherOf his dream that had become hers, and for which she was now to die in a land not her ownBriefly she thought of her father, knowing how much this all had to do with making redress, with the way each generation seemed to put its mark upon the next, one way or anotherLet it be enough, she prayed then, aiming the thought like an arrow of the mind toward Morian in her Halls
The door burst inward with a grinding crashHalf a dozen men stumbled into the roomCatriana turned back from the stars and the two moons and the gardenShe looked down at the men from the window-ledgeThere was a singing in her heart, a crescendo of hope and pride
"Death to rolex watch Barbadior's servants!" she screamed at the top of her voice"Freedom for Senziol" she cried, and then: "Long live King Brandin of the Palm!"
One man, quicker than the others, reacted, springing across the roomHe was not quite quick enough, not as fast as sheShe had already turned, the acid of those last, necessary words eating in her brainShe saw the moons again, Eanna's stars, the wide, waiting darkness between them and beyondFelt the night wind in her face and in her hair, saw the dark ground of the garden begin to hurtle up toward her, heard voices for an instant, and then none at all, only the loud, rushing windShe was alone, fallingShe had always been alone it coco chanel hobo bag seemed |