Sword twisting in her hand, she ran to her father’s side, her eyes wary of the shadows. But naught was to be seen. An early lamb, torn from the moth...r who had been herded away, cried at the top of the hill. The stream babbled under its crust of ice. But her father did not speak. His eyes were motionless, his face tinged blue, stiff from cold. And death. She knelt by him and wept, for how long she did not know, but when she raised her head again the noon sun was westering. She returned to the. "Paul was wondering what he was going to say to her as he opened the door and let her in. She closed and locked the door behind her. "We need to talk," she said. He sat at the edge of the bed partially pulling the bedspread over his lap. Amber was wearing the Jersey still. As she sat next to him she could tell that Paul was obviously disturbed by the incident, and the look of torment on his face made her feel less angry about it."Look Paul, it's not your fault and it's not mine, it just. More

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