Unlike the other jailors, Halfhead sported no long, curly black beard; his beard was wispy and pale, his eyes blue. He was a northerner like Tanin, perhaps once a hunter or gatherer, possibly sold overseas by his old masters. His most distinguishing feature was not even his prodigious girth but his head. A large chunk of that head was missing; the cranium caved in, forming a declivity like a crater, perhaps the result of some old wound. Whatever had caused the deformity must have left Halfhead half-witted; the giant drooled and often mumbled incoherently, seeming no more mature than toddler.

"What you want?" Drool slid down Halfhead’s chin and clung to his rusty ring mail. "You no talk. Dragon! Dragon flies up above." The giant shivered. "Halfhead no like dragons."

Tanin clutched the bars. If there had ever been a chance to escape this cell, it was now.

"Open my cell, Halfhead," Tanin said. "Open it so I can help you fight the dragon."

Halfhead's eyes widened. He took a step backward, banging against the opposite cell. "Dragon . . . coming here?" He fumbled for his club and raised the weapon. "Halfhead no like dragons!" His bottom lip trembled. "Dragons scary. Dragons once hurt Halfhead." He caressed the declivity on his head. "Dragon once lift Halfhead, drop him, hurt him. Halfhead scared. Please send dragon away."

As the giant trembled, Tanin couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor thing. But right now he would have to scare Halfhead a little more.

"Halfhead, if you open my cell door, I can help you fight the dragon. I've slain dragons before."

Halfhead sniffed and wiped mucus off his face. He growled, lolloped forward, and swung his club. Tanin leaped back and the club banged against the bars.

"You can't go out!" Halfhead wagged his finger. "You can't. Can't go out! Masters told Halfhead. Halfhead is never to let anyone out again. Ever."

Tanin grimaced to think that right now, archers might be firing at Issari as she flew above the city, seeking him.

"But the dragon might come here!" Tanin said. "Dragons love dungeons. If it flies down this tunnel, I can help you."

Halfhead roared even as tears streamed down his cheeks. He swung his club through the bars, forcing Tanin to leap back against the wall. "Halfhead will fight! Halfhead will have revenge. He will kill dragon." He growled and spun in circles in the hall, swinging his club, as prisoners hooted and wailed in their cells. "Dragons hurt Halfhead. Now Halfhead hurt dragon!"

The giant jailor paced the hallway, swinging his club through the air, blubbering about how the dragon had hurt him, how his head still ached, how revenge would be his. Tanin sighed.

Poor fellow, he thought. He wondered if the story were true. Had some Vir Requis in the north truly wounded this man? A flow of shame filled Tanin. Every man like Halfhead, hurt by dragons, was another reason for the world to hate Requiem.