’ Kimble frowned direfully, staring at the weapon with its gold hilt and decorative pattern down the blade. ’ Joy rose in Melusine’s bosom. He was full of fabulous stories, not just tales of his own past in Rome but wonderful fables from the mysterious Orient and the ancient Greeks, old jokes and yarns that only he remembered. Had Valade been to see him? Possibly even yesterday when he was followed by some young lad—and the girl, of course. Black blood and white bone flew into the corners of the crypt, slathering the dead faces of the corpses left piled in the corner. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping.
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