One kind of pain seemed as good as another. Laboriously I folded back my bloodied right cuff. The hidden pocket was secured by a thread that should have come loose at a slight tug. But blood had matted it closed. I picked at it carefully. Mustn’t spill it. I’d need to wait until they gave me more water to get it down. Otherwise I’d just gag and retch on the bitter powder. I was still working at it when I heard voices down the hallway.
It did not seem fair they would come back at me so soon. I listened. It wasn’t Regal. But anyone coming down here meant something to do with me. A deep voice, rumbling along in a rambling way. The guards replying briefly, in hostile tones. Another voice, interceding, reasoning. The rumbling again, getting louder, and the belligerence plain. Suddenly a shout.
“You’re going to die, Fitz! Hanged over water, and your body burned! “
Burrich’s voice. A strange mix of anger and threat and pain.
“Get him out of here.” One of the guards, speaking loud and plain now. She was obviously an Inlander.
“I will, I will.” I knew that voice. Blade. “He’s just had a bit too much to drink, that’s all. It’s always been a problem with him. And he had the boy as his apprentice down there in the stables for years. Everyone’s saying he should have known about it, did know about it and didn’t do anything, maybe.”
“Yessss.” Burrich drew out the angry affirmation. “And I’m out of a job now, bastard! No more buck’s crest for me! Well, by El’s ass, it hardly matters. Horses are gone. Best damn horses I ever trained, gone inland now, given over to fools! Dogs are gone, hawks are gone! All that’re left are the scrubs and a couple mules. Don’t have one horse I’d admit to owning!” His voice was growing closer. There was madness in it.