Bartlett stood guard outside a room in the small castle for an entire night.
The door of the room had been broken. When Bartlett and the elder crossed the shattered gate, walked past the burning stables and pens, through the bloody, stone-strewn, glass covered mess of a hall, and up the broken stairs to the room, the place was already filled with a crowd both inside and out.
The crowd was a mix of men and women, and Bartlett even saw the tailor who had repaired his saddle, which allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief in his heart. No matter how the situation developed, at least he could leave this troublesome place tomorrow.
