’ She saw the weapon wrenched from Emile’s hand and he dropped to the bench of the pew and sat there, grasping helplessly at the welling blood on his arm. She glared at him with satisfaction. ’ ‘Back?’ Melusine put a hand to her aching temple. ‘And I wouldn’t be no sort of a man if I’d heard what I heard, and gone off and left you. The old woman told him she had no such article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neighbouring blacksmith. She reflected before answering. He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy.
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