Brand had not been given any opportunity to escape. After finishing his dinner, he had been escorted to a small hut situated by itself on the edge of the village by the giant warrior who had found him on the beach. Magnus had called it a guest house, but Brand knew what it really was – a cell. Guest rooms didn’t have guards posted in front of them or doors with locks on the outside.
He'd spent the night contemplating his situation, having no luck in coming up with a different story than the one he had already told. After hours of pacing, he gave up and lay down on the thin mattress. The straw the pallet was stuffed with scratched his skin and he wished forlornly for his memory foam bed back in Wyoming. Disgusted with himself at the thought, he turned toward the wall and tried to sleep.
