“Fidele is all that matters. Me being maddened beyond all thought will not help her, so I will control that beast,” he said, his voice as cold as winter rain. “And I swear, by Elyon above and Asroth below, I will find her. And if she is hurt…” He ground his teeth, made a sound in his throat beyond words, fingers closing around a knife hilt, pulling it out and cutting across his palm. He held it out, a white-knuckled fist, blood dripping into the river. “There will be blood.”
