“Cat got your tongue?”
“He"s no better than the monks.”
“Look at him all dressed up like a big, black bruise.”
“Bruise him, did you say?”
I chose non-resistance, instead, saved my strength for when it could best be applied. That surprised the ten men he"d sent, but not long.
I was dragged without given chance to walk; kicked without arms to defend, and spat upon by one particularly seedy guard who wore a red sash around his armour. I made quite sure to transpose the details of his one-eyed visage to memory.
Idealess as to where we headed, the guards took pleasure in jolting my face with both fists and floor. I"d had worse though and held my anger at bay. It wasn"t until the dark and dingy corridors widened into a far grander, yet equally spartan hall, that I realised I"d been tossed
