The chill of this underground prison seeps slowly into my bones. I stay as still as I can and breathe deeply through my nose so that all of my senses will stay sharp. Whoever my captors are, all but one has gone far enough from me that I cannot know much about them from their voices or even the smells of their bodies. The one who carried me here has a sour, sweaty reek on him. He stays unpleasantly close to me, so close that sometimes his elbow nudges me when he moves. I hear the slosh of water and I hear him noisily slaking his thirst.

From behind the gag, I can only hum loudly and hope he will understand my need for a drink. There is a coarse laugh. I shake my hooded head from side to side and curse him, loosing what little spit is left in me. The gag is unbound and the hood is lifted a little, but tied tightly around my eyes. As soon as the gag is off, I open my mouth to speak. Water pours in, cool and sweet. I sputter, then gratefully drink my fill while I wonder vaguely what will happen when I have to relieve myself.

The gag is quickly replaced and the hood drawn down again. Soon I hear my unfriendly companion softly snoring. How much time has passed? There's no telling if its day or night. I must stay awake. It isn't difficult with the stone-cold wall and floor against me. I strain to listen to the low voices that mutter just out of my hearing, muddled by snorts and snores.

If I can't hear what they're saying, perhaps I can at least tell how many different voices there are. I listen so hard that my neck aches. Five or six, at least, maybe more. These are no ruffians, they speak too well to be common robbers. A few words and phrases leak through the gloom but no names or places.

Again and again, I hear "Díoltas" - Revenge!

I sleep in miserably short respites that end with wretched jolts of sudden wakefulness. Time stretches out into a black void.