“What?!" Selmas rushes to the door and peers out, ignoring the unconscious forms of the two unfortunate Warriors who were supposed to be guarding him. Sure enough, he can see the lights of torches and hear voices. He can't make out exactly what they're saying, yet, but they definitely don't sound happy.
“We're doomed," Byrin says mournfully. “To die a death at the hands of our own people."
“Not if we escape them," Selmas says. “You broke down the door for a reason, didn't you?"
“What about your plan?" Byrin asks.
“I'm a little less inclined toward the plan now," Selmas says, going back to scratch out his floor writing with his foot. “Come on. Let's go be farmers, or whatever you said."
“The cover story is nomads!" Byrin responds, but Selmas is already leaving the jail cell.
He pr
