His arms burned, sinews and tendons twisting and wrenching as he clung on, feeling her slip away. In that instant, when his shoulders felt dislocated and his groin rammed painfully against his saddle and his docile little gray nag whickered, close to a scream, he was near to yelling himself. How could one so slight and small weigh so much? Still she dragged him down to the ground, where the faint scatter of rose petals would give them no protection. “Stay!” he roared, to himself, to her, as from the edge of his vision he saw the knight of the garter catch his horse's bridle, his bearded mouth a round 'O' of shock. Even Prince Edward, veteran of many a charge, had frozen. He heard cloth ripping, wondered from the hot-metal sizzle in his arms if his muscles were ripping, and then it was over. She was netted in his grasp and whole. I have caught a falling angel, he thought for a wild instant, and then the fancy was gone. He shook the stinging sweat from his eyes and looked at her, snug in his arms but gasping like a landed fish.
