Chapter nineteenThe men in black hurried us through secret narrow corridors and down steep stairs slashed sheer through virgin rock. They did not speak. They urged us on with knotted ropes. I’d come to my senses under a treefern, with Wa-Te on one side and Folly on the other. The men in black bound our wrists with ropes, and struck us with their knotted ropes, and drove us on willy-nilly. So much for Queen Satra’s orders that I was not to be disturbed!
We had been stripped naked. Now I am used to running about on bare feet, and so too was Folly. The Pachak, more used to a pair of stout army boots or studded sandals, made a few faces as stones cut him. But he was not a soft city man who never went barefoot. He could handle this.
Every now and then we were allowed a short rest. The men in
