His heart froze. For there above him, framed and distorted by the sun, stood the apparition of all vengeance: the Angel of Death from his dream. He stepped back and away, and for the space of three breaths, had neither strength nor control of his limbs. But Shar-hai had not lived so long against the apparent will of Nature by being timid or a fool. He moved out from the path of the sun, and saw not a fiery angel, but a man---young and fierce and desperate, but still only a man---who bled the same blood, and could also be killed. Kalus leapt down into the circle. The guard would have gone after him, but they could not. The aged male and the one-eye stood before them, threatening, with the others not far behind. They felt no love or allegiance for any man, but this one protected their fallen leader. And they knew not whether they did something brave or foolish, but only that the moment was too much and they must do it. Shar-hai began to circle, and to try to understand the strange weapon, while Kalus felt his heart pounding and the sweat from his palms making his grip clammy and the sword hard to hold. Finally the waiting and fear became too much and he rushed at him, slicing the air with the blade. But Shar-hai slipped away easily and circled behind him before he could turn. Kalus whirled to face him. Wielding his weapon with courage but little real skill, he repeated the attack again and again. Fruitless. The weight of the sword was too much and his grip seemed feeble, and his legs still trembled from the weakness of the climb; and his foe would not remain stationary, or venture within the cutting sweep of his sword. But he was strong and determined, and confronted by death and he knew it. He kept the half-breed in front of him, breathed slowly and deeply and shook with bitter rage as he clenched his teeth and moved forward again. He swept the blade in a flat, circular motion. But again he missed, and the guard drew closer, snarling and lunging. He felt sweat come over him, and the cold chill of knowing he had stepped too far. And for all his years of learning he could not contain the frightened rage that sent him chasing and cutting in wild circles and angles while the half-breed leapt aside, rushing in short bursts and avoiding the blade, with the hatred of his eyes burning ever deeper.