Chapter 84
The door swung open, letting in a shaft of light that made him blink. It was dark in the corridor, but the guard standing over him held a torch. “On your feet.” The man reached down and pulled him up against the stiffness of his joints. He was pushed toward the door, stumbling. “You’re wanted upstairs.” “Upstairs? Where?” He was startled at that—the smith’s forge was downstairs from where he was, off the courtyard. And they wouldn’t flog him so late in the evening. The man’s face twisted, fierce and ruddy in the torchlight. “To the Captain’s quarters,” the guard said, grinning. “And day God have mercy on your soul, Mac Dubh.” * * * “No, sir, I will not say where I have been.” He repeated it firmly, trying not to let his teeth chatter. He had been brought not to the office, but to Grey
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