Scavengers peered out from doorways, but made no attempt to stop two men so poorly dressed. The inhabitants of the Shambles didn’t attack their own. They’d crept out of their quarter to forage, and were looting the shops and houses of the richer quarters with a desperate frenzy. It wasn’t often they had ful bel ies and soft clothes against their skin. 'Lean on my arm and try to look as if you're injured,' commanded Davred, trying not to show the horror he felt at the sight of the ravaged city. For a while neither of them spoke, then suddenly Herra pinched his arm. 'Yes, boy, I think I can make it,' she whined, her voice that of a weary old man. 'Take me back home and the Serpent will smile upon you.' A man stepped from a doorway and barred their passage. He wore the black robes of a Servant of the Serpent and he carried a rod of office, with which he continued to bar their path as he scrutinised them. What he saw appeared to satisfy him.
