The rainwater cascaded down the church's eaves, pattering against the windows.
Outside, the sky was a dim white, even colder and more dreary than usual, prompting everyone present to don extra coats.
Tommy rose from his chair and moved forward to close the window, then sat back down, glancing from side to side.
A group of refugees now occupied Durdafer's beloved "Scriptorium," which was actually a dining room table covered with exquisite food.
White bread, fish soup, cheese-baked chicken, roast suckling pig, creamy mushroom soup.
Each dish gleamed under the light of the silver candlesticks.
These refugees were the initiators of the recent riots and key members of Tommy's team.
They wore finely crafted clothes seized from the monastery, yet their bent backs and bizarre postures made the garments look crumpled, resembling servants who had stolen their master's attire.
