Todd retreated, and as he did so Katya caught hold of Zeffer by the hair and lifted him up. The horsemen were waiting on the other side, swords at the ready. He stared at his maimed hand for a moment, then he turned from his mutilator and stumbled back towards the door. Blood spurted out from the wounds, and Zeffer let out a cry that was one part disbelief to two of agony. The Duke lifted his sword and brought it down in a great swooping arc that cut through the meat of Zeffer's right hand, taking off all four of his fingers, and the top half of his thumb. Whether the Duke took this harmless motion as some attempt at aggression, and reacted to protect himself, or whether he simply wanted to do harm Tammy would never know. Only now, as he stumbled across the ground before them, did Zeffer raise his arms to protect himself against the swordsmen. The question went from her head the next instant, driven out by a wail of demand from below. No doubt he was responsible for all manner of crimes-in such a landscape as he'd ridden who would not lay claim to their share of felonies?-but in that moment, in the midst of a dark journey of her own, Tammy would have instinctively preferred the eloquence of this face for company than Todd's easy beauty.
He was by no means as beautiful as Todd had once been, but there was a gravitas in his physiognomy which Todd's corn-fed charm could never have approached. Though none of the light from the hallway seemed to illuminate the world on the other side of the doorway, Tammy could see the man's face quite clearly: his severely angular features, his long, braided beard, black shot through with streaks of gray his dark, heavy-lidded eyes. He hung back from the door, eyeing it with suspicion and awe.
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