Gilltiph the weasel went to make his report to Goldorran. He grinned at the elaborate double-cross. He was one of Goldorran’s chief captains and spies, as well as his top councillor. He was supposedly conspiring with Fripnose, yet really served Goldorran. Yet was he a traitor? Yes he was. He brought Goldorran false information about the rebel chieftain whom he truly served, and brought the rebel all the information he could muster. Yet he also had his own band of soldiers. He brought Goldorran false information about his band, too. He could have laughed out loud. Unable to restrain himself, he gave a snort of laughter. One on the guards shot him a questioning look, yet remained silent. Gilltiph knocked on Goldorran’s door, and then waited in the dark corridor. Narrack opened the door, and Gilltiph entered. He was nervous and edgy, having been called here on such short notice, and when Goldorran emerged from a shadowy semi-circular alcove in the side of the room, he jumped. Goldorran smiled disarmingly. “Don’t worry, friend, it’s only me. Sit down I need to talk to you.” He motioned for Gilltiph to take a chair, and then said to his aides, “Leave us now.” They left obediently. Goldorran opened a bottle of fine blueberry, elderberry, and damson wine, with a few lashings of cherry, raspberry, and strawberry. It was aged forty-five seasons, and a fine wine indeed. Then he took his goblet, and looked disdainfully at the pewter mug which Narrack had left for Gilltiph. “My best captain deserves a better drinking vessel than this!” Gilltiph protested weakly. “No, sire, it’s fine, just fine, please…” But Goldorran left, leaving Gilltiph alone. Gilltiph leapt up at the sound of a key, grating in the lock on the finely carved blue wood door. He heard Goldorran laugh, and then he fell into a room which was evidently the room of Gildfirth and Narrack. He had fallen through a trapdoor. Then he heard the door of the room open, and was knocked unconsious. He was carried to a small, beautiful little room, and then plunged into darkness. A trapdoor, hidden in the mosaics and tiles on the floor had opened, and plunged him into a vast, dark, space, a subterranean prison. Water sloshed around his ankles as he got up from the shallow water in which he had landed. He was well and truly caught!