Instinctively, I struggled to sit up but the world exploded into shards of pain. Groaning, I gripped my head as though by holding it firmly I could make the pain go away. When that didn't work I peered around at my surroundings. I was no longer in the infirmary. I had been moved, and none too gently considering how my head felt. A single wooden torch anchored high on the wall chased back the immediate darkness but there wasn't enough light to see the details of the room. Curious, I cautiously stood up and was rewarded with a spike of pain driving into my head--my ankle didn't feel happy either, but I found I could only concentrate on one really big pain at a time. It wasn't much of a silver lining but it was something. After gasping a few times, like a fish sucking air, I fought back dry heaves. Slowly, I moved toward the torch hoping to warm my cold hands. After creeping forward about two feet there was a hard tug on my ankle--my uninjured one, mercifully--that nearly sent me sprawling face first on the stone floor.
