Chapter twelve
Of the Pied Piper of Port MarsilusThe next morning I awoke and rolled over and groaned. One of the fancy tooled leather boots lay in a corner of the barracks and the other halfway along the side wall where I’d hurled them the night before. I went along to Pando’s apartments and routed out a somber kit of grays and blues, and then trundled into the mess hall where the morning porridge was not laced with red honey, and the bread was stale, the palines wilting and the tea weak. Disgruntled, I ambled along to see Naghan Raerdu.
Here was I wasting my time on bad commons, doing nothing, only finding out unwelcome facts, when my comrades were out no doubt having exciting adventures chasing rogues through the forests.
As I walked along the corridor toward Naghan’s cellar entrance
