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fresh wave of people could be heard pouring into the lane. Geoffrey shook Joanna roughly. |
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"Stand," he ordered. "Stand until I can mount and pull you up." |
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He pressed her against the building, put one of her hands on a jutting beam, and turned toward his horse. The poor beast was so tired that it had not moved a step from the spot at which Geoffrey had dismounted. Even the waves of sparks and smoke no longer woke much response in Orage. War-horses were far more accustomed to being close to flames than an ordinary animal, and the past twelve hours had further numbed the stallion's fear mechanism. Geoffrey sheathed his sword, grasped his rein, and swung into the saddle, cursing the fact that he did not have another usable arm. Two were simply not enough. He needed to guide the horse, hold Joanna, and fight. The refugees pouring around the bend in the lane had sent up a shout at the sight of the mounted figure. They were mad with terror and resentment. Any person on horseback was their enemy at this moment. |
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Instinct saved Joanna, who was still only semiconscious, from endangering them both still further. When Geoffrey left her, she started to topple forward. The fear of falling is deep, deep in the phylogenetic memory of man, however, and Joanna's hand closed on the beam upon which Geoffrey had pressed it. She held to it so tight that, although her knees had started to buckle, she remained upright long enough for Geoffrey to wrench Orage sideways and seize her. He could feel the muscles and tendons in his shoulder scream in protest. Joanna was a slender girl, but she was almost as tall and almost as hard-muscled as Geoffrey himself. She was no feather to lift in one arm. |
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The stress did not last long. Before Geoffrey needed to do more than raise her from the ground, Joanna's head had cleared enough so that she lifted her foot to set it on Geoffrey's in the stirrup. With that help, it was short work to set her firmly in the saddle in front of him. Now, desperately, Geoffrey roweled his horse into faster motion. The dull plodding quickened for a few steps into a trot and then |
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