It was the strangest feeling. She knew she was - or at least had been - a
brave and
noble knight called Fred. But at the same time she also had the memories
of the fifteen
year-old Hannah, orphaned as a baby and brought up by her Uncle Tom and
Aunt Meg.
Tom was a farm labourer, but there had always been enough food on the
table and
Meg had kept their humble cottage spotlessly clean.
But sorting out her two sets of memories had to wait, for here she was in a wizard's abode with the wizard lying unconscious on the floor in front of her, with a nasty gash on his forehead. She wondered if she could have killed him. Bending down to take his pulse:
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4/28/2000 10:53:28 AM
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