Then a shock
of icy liquid thrown into his face aroused him to make a feeble protest
and he saw, hanging over him in a strange upside-down way, a bearded
face which he knew from the past.
Hands were laid on him and the roughness with which he was moved sent
Ross spiraling back into the dark once again. When he aroused for the
second time it was night and the pain in his head was dulled. He put out
his hands and discovered that he lay on a pile of fur robes, and was
covered by one.
"Assha--" Again he tried that name. But it was not Assha who came in
answer to his feeble call. The woman who knelt beside him with a horn
cup in her hand had neatly braided hair in which gray strands showed
silver by firelight. Ross knew he had seen her before, but again where
and when eluded him. She slipped a sturdy arm under his head and raised
him while the world whirled about. The edge of the horn cup was pressed
to his lips, and he drank bitter stuff which burned in his throat and
lit a fire in his insides.
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