To Have & To Hold by Mary Johnson Chapter 37 Page 8

him with the dagger in my right hand, and wounded him, but not deeply, in the side. He gave blow for blow, but his poniard scarce drew blood, so nerveless was the arm that would have driven it home. I struck again, and he stabbed weakly at the air, then let his arm drop to his side, as though the light and jeweled blade had weighed it down.

Loosening the clasp of our left hands, I fell back until the narrow scarlet field was between us. “Hast no more strength than that?” I cried. “I cannot murder you!”

He stood looking past me as into a great distance. He was bleeding, but I had as yet been able to strike no mortal blow. “It is as you choose,” he said. “I am as one bound before you. I am sick unto death.