The first two blows had perhaps not gone deep enough to do much damage, but this time the crosss support post went at least three inches into the kneeling troopers back, driving him flat.
"Geoffrey knew the ladies Colter meant; a Couple of hysterical beldames probably suffering from the alternate calms and monsoons of midlife, both as dotty as a childs Draw-It-Name-It puzzle. It hurt furiously while he wrote, but that was not the worst - the worst was the hour or two afterward, when the healing stump would madden him with a droney itch, like swarming, sleepy bees.