Inside the castle in Stone Salt Town, the air was heavy enough to wring water from, thick with sweat, ale, and an indescribable agitation.
Glenn lay curled on the floor, the armor plates over his chest deeply caved in.
Every breath tugged at his wounds, and blood streaked the spit he coughed up-he had just finished delivering an utterly humiliating report.
The hall was deathly silent. Only the crackle of wood in the braziers mercilessly mocked these fighting men.
Ora Stonebeard rose from his stone seat and paced across the floor in heavy iron boots, every step seeming to land on their hearts, suspended in dread.
He clenched the shard of glass confiscated from Glenn, his knuckles white with the force of his grip.
He rubbed it over and over, as though trying to decipher the humiliation that had cost him all his dignity from its faint, peculiar odor.
He stopped before Glenn, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Tell me again. What did that stuff smell like?"
That calm frightened Glenn more than any roar could have. He shuddered and bowed his head even lower. "M-my lord, like... like horse piss..."
"Horse piss?" Ora laughed, the sound hoarse and twisted. "My Shatterrock Knights, ten fully armed knights in heavy armor, were scared shitless by a splash of horse piss?"
He abruptly flicked his foot upward, catching a pebble precisely with his toe. It whistled through the air and slammed into the helmet of a knight beside him.
Clang!
The knight jolted violently but remained rooted to the spot, not daring to let out even a muffled grunt.
Everyone in the hall lowered their heads still further.
"The wall... there was that wall, too!"
Glenn sounded as though he had found a lifeline. "My lord, there was something damned strange about that