Guards hustled Quinn and the other new recruits inside and pushed them through a long, low corridor. The other recruits had wanted nothing to do with Quinn after he’d defeated Jori, and he’d spent most of the last two days dodging their suspicious glances and snide comments. Eating alone, training alone, sleeping alone in a corner of the Great Hall; he couldn’t tell if they hated him or feared him. They still managed to ignore him when he was in the centre of the jostling crowd. They were acting like he had an infectious disease. Fine, let them ignore me, Quinn thought wearily, growing used to being the lone trainee. Quinn shrugged them off and made his way into the hall. It was a sight he’d never get used to. The Great Hall was huge. The floor was paved with flagstones and covered in fresh rushes. A great beamed ceiling stretched high above, decorated with banners and swords. Against one wall a spit turned inside an enormous fireplace and the whole vast room smelled of woodsmoke and spices.
