ANNE STEPPED into the light, remaining behind Stephen. My legs grew weak. A hollowness was in my gut.

In her hand she held the lance.The holy lance...not the ordinary one I had cast so theatrically into the fire. The lance I had entrusted to her last night! Entrusted.

Iam a fool, I said, seeking out her eyes. How could Emilie have been so wrong about Anne? How could I?

I looked at the crossbow leveled at my chest. And Stephen's mocking grin. For the first time, I felt ready to die.

One last word, jester. Stephen smirked. Your death is trivial to me, serf. All that mattered was the lance. But what wouldyou do with such a thing, anyway? You could not possibly know the power it holds. I hunted the world for it. By all God's justice, it is mine. He tensed his finger on the trigger of the crossbow.

Then have it, Stephen. Anne's voice rang from behind him.

Suddenly Stephen lurched and his eyes wrenched open. I stiffened, expecting my guts to fall into my hands. But no arrow came from his crossbow.

I heard the most horrible sound-the splitting of ribs and sinew, the tearing of flesh. An awful gasp came from Stephen's mouth. But instead of words, a river of blood followed.

Anne pushed forward strongly. This time, the blade of the lance pierced the base of his neck and came out before his very eyes.Have it ,husband.

Then Anne put her mouth close to his ear and whispered, But know how worthless it is now, our Savior's blood having mingled with your own.

Stephen looked down. He stared disbelievingly at the Ro............