18
Doc’s face paled, and he hurried past Jorund and down the hall. Tristan followed, and behind him came Alex and me. Gwyn tipped his hat to the fuming Jorund as he passed him.
“If you will excuse us, Lord Jorund,” he teased.
“You are not excused!” Jorund snapped, but our attention lay elsewhere.
The cry had come from the young man who stood at the door to his cell. He grasped the bars and looked pleadingly at Maddock. “Doc, when can I get out of here?”
Maddock gave him an encouraging smile. “Soon, I hope. I have brought friends here to help find who did this to you.”
The man swept his eyes over us. “You can save me?”
“We will try,” Tristan assured him.
The man closed his eyes and shuddered. “I can feel it, Doc. It’s in there.”
“Would you like a sedative?” Maddock offered
