Something snapped. For a moment I was sure he had broken my neck, but I could still move my legs. My eyes felt that they would pop. My throat was aflame, and I was drifting away to the darkness. He pulled me closer to him, so close that I could see the hairs inside his nose and feel his hot pungent breath. I tried to look for the others, but the world was a blur of grays and black. The blood throbbed in my ears, and I felt a shift inside me, as though my soul had been diminished. I was fading out like a puff of smoke. “Yes, you’re going to die,” he said. “I can see the fear of death in your eyes. Death is far more merciful than what my family suffered, how they…” His voice broke, and I would have felt sorry for him if he weren’t trying to kill me. I could feel the pommel of my sword against my hip. With the last of my adrenaline, I let my hands slip from his that were around my neck. He pulled me closer still until the stubble of his days-old beard brushed my cheek, and he whispered in my ear, “But you will suffer.
