Morning light was seeping through the high window when the door scraping open woke Ilissos. He opened his eyes and found even the thin early morning sunlight painful. Gurdjatt was bending over him, his broad bearded face still suspicious.
“Master want you,” he growled. “You eat that.” He set water and another dish of food on the floor, then leaned against the door to see his order was carried out. “You know Archraad?”
Ilissos shook his head.
Gurdjatt frowned and, as if making a huge concession, said, “It is a city in the Plain. You are there. Quick. Master waits.”
Ilissos forced his body round into a sitting position despite the agonies that still ran through his limbs. He took the water and food and then, as though he could not quite remember how to move, got clumsily to his feet. It
