” He turned to leave, but Carrie grabbed his hand again. “Oh, come on Derrick! Help me!” He tried to tug his arm from her firm grasp. “Babe, I...can’t. I have no idea how to use this stuff,” he argued. “What if I hurt you?” he paused, thoughtfully, “Or worse - what if I hurt me?” Carrie stood and placed a hand on each of Derrick’s forearms. “That’s not going to happen,” she said in a soothing voice. “Everything here is preheated with predetermined settings.” She released one arm and started. I just waited patiently as I looked at him. He eventually said, "I know who you are?" Who am I?" Jón, the son of Clovis, King of the Frisians."I said, "When I heard the horses coming down the trail I assumed it would be one or more of the families that had lost members of their families when the first or the fifth legion suffered casualties." Casualties! You slaughtered them. You killed thousands of them. They were tending their wounded when you did this." The man went on and on and I let him. More

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