The rations were sufficient for one meal. This, in addition to the fact that there was no mount in the vicinity, led him to the conclusion that there was a guard post in the neighborhood and that relief might be arriving at any time. He drank the wine and refilled the flask with water, damning the smallness of the container.

Then, as there were no nearby crevasses or caves wherein he might secrete the remains, he departed quickly, leaving what remained there.

He ate slowly as he moved, his stomach at first protesting this strange invasion of privacy. He finished half the food in this fashion and saved the rest. Occasionally, he would see a small animal. He took to carrying several stones in his hands, with the hope of bringing one down. But they all proved too fast, or he too slow. He did however, gain a good piece of Hint when renewing his supply of stones for the seventh time.

Later, he hid himself when he heard the sound of hoofbeats, but no one passed near. He knew that he was deep into Drekkheim now and he wondered toward which of its boundaries he was headed. He shuddered when he considered that at one point it abutted the westernmost boundary of that nameless realm which held High Dudgeon, place of power and keep of the Lord of Bats.

Toward the bright stars, from the dark ground, he hurled another petition, for whatever it was worth.

Climbing, circling, sometimes running, his hatred grew more rapidly than the hunger within him.

Smage, Quazer, Benoni, Blite the executioner and the Lord of Bats...

One by one he would seek them and have his revenge upon them, beginning with the lesser and building his power as he went, until the encounter with the one who even now might be too near for safe dreaming.

Nor did he dream well.

He dreamed that he was back in the Dung Pits. This time, however, he was chained, so that like Morningstar-who sits forever at the Gates of Dawn-he must remain in that place forever.