Trying to find a comfortable spot, GarGar shifted himself in the straight-backed chair. He could still hear the old King’s words, “Send him to the North Tower of Castle Rising.” The castle which had a notorious reputation for extra-judicial torture and murder, was now his new home. Of all the towers in the rambling, brick structure, the North Tower was the worst. A constant wind blew in from the barred window of his cell and he could see the dust mites dancing in the filtered sunbeam that came in through said window. For all his youth, GarGar felt old and washed out.