Chapter 18Much as this situation spared me my moral dilemma, there is precious little comfort to be derived from being held at gunpoint by a power-hungry murderer, whatever the fringe benefits. An uncertain period of time — probably very short, except in my imagination — dragged by in silence. I supposed that he was waiting for my companions to make good their departure, so that he might shoot me in perfect privacy, so I was more than a little surprised when he chose to break the silence with words rather than with bullets.
“Turn about,” he ordered, stepping back, “and no clever moves, if you please. You can be of service to me, but that is a bonus I can probably live without, if you force me to it.” Not ashamed to make the most of this small advantage, I turned my back to the cavern wall
