”“Still flogging the books?” Charles chuckled, “Should use them for firewood.”“We are,” Andy said, “We have five bedrooms full of the ...amned things not that we are living together.”“Or having sex,” Sarah sighed.“Oh cut the crap, just sort him out will you, he can’t be on TV with a giant woody can he?” Charles ordered, “Cluster round look outwards so the Papper-fuckng-nazis can’t see and let Sarah sort him out.”“And if I don’t want to?” Sarah queried.“I’m the fucking king so it’s treason.” he. And she smelled...'She's dead.'"Mira, please..." Murielle sobbed. "Please let me in..."Moments went by and Murielle stopped struggling against the shield. She knew there was nothing she could do for her sister. That body in front of her smelled like it had been dead for days – maybe a week. She didn't know what was holding the shielding in place, or how Miranda may have somehow created it before she died, but she knew it was all lost. Her fervent week-long race to reach Miranda had ended in. She was not enslaved to Ivar. Sigurd wouldnot... The thought stopped as she felt her body begin to tingle again. No,no, not Ivar. Sigurd was her master. She felt her breasts, her grointingle as the name came to her mind. The name -- _his_ name.The girl who had been Thorvald Gundarson ran over and knelt on the groundbefore her master. "My Lord, my master, Sigurd Karlson." It thrilled herto say the words aloud. "I am -- what was her name, the name that _he_wished her to have? -- I am Thordis,. Again. Straight on unless I stop you."He didn't for about ten minutes. By that time I figured his focus was mostly on the orchestra, but I was soon to discover otherwise. Right in the middle of Mario's and Cam's big duet he suddenly waved the orchestra to a halt."Did you have garlic for dinner last night, Mario, dear?" he asked. "Camilla, did you neglect brushing your teeth this morning? No? Then may I ask why Mario is there"—he pointed to the tenor at stage right—"and Camilla is there?"—he.
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