Snippet #2815508

Knife wrested from his hand, Ulrich stumbled backward, eyes flashing momentarily with anger. Who was this? "Who are you?" A man of thoroughly average height, muscular, with scraggly beard over his chin, he seemed younger than his nearly sixty years of age. He stood in an open fighting stance, an impressive feat in the small confines of the cell, empty handed, muscles taut. "Why are you interrupting? What stake do you have in this?" His eyes darted past Ulrich to the old woman, something deep and dark emanating from his gaze.

Drulović pushed herself up from the mattress with great effort, staring past Hokushin toward Ulrich. At the moment, it seemed they were at a standstill, the darkness of the cell nearly enveloping them all in shadows. Ulrich had waited until a new moon, when the sky outside was darkest, and it seemed he hadn't had long to wait. She'd wondered when he might make his next appearance. The last time, he'd broken her clavicle and busted her cheekbones, because the last time, he'd wanted answers more than he'd wanted her life. This time, she did not doubt at all that he'd come for her life.