Chapter thirteen
Trylon Muryan“If,” said Seg, “we cannot cheat, contrive or fight a way out of this stinking dungeon, we are not fit to be called paktuns.”
The dungeon itself, sunk into the ground, iron-barred, stank. Outside, at a higher level, the guards prowled. Some guards wore brown and white feathers, and for every guard with the brown and white, another guard wearing the blue and white paced him and kept him company.
Hundle the Design explained this.
“We are in the dungeons of Mewsansmot. This is Trylon Muryan’s domain. But Kov Llipton, also, has jurisdiction, seeing that the town was the benefice of King Crox to Queen Mab when they were married.”
“Fat lot of good that does us,” said Khardun. “It means we have double the damned guards to deal with.”
“Mayhap,” said Seg, “we can
