Gerald sat in his room, looking around. It was ten paces wide, little more than a dungeon. Three walls were made of stone, while the fourth consisted of iron bars that blocked his entrance, thus ensuring no privacy whatsoever. The bed was naught but a wooden pallet with a thin straw mattress upon it, and the only other furniture was a table and chair at which he could sit for meals. The prison had even provided a candle, which was useful as he was here mainly when it was dark out. The room boasted a single window, but it was high up, out of reach, and was barely big enough to admit sunlight.
Candlelight flickered, throwing shadows about the room as he stared out through the bars and across the hall to a similar cell opposite him. It was empty, but the sounds of snoring could be heard drif
