"A… a Merchant…"
The Ogre slumped in the corner, his coarse voice trembling uncontrollably, hoarse and flecked with blood. He was wracked by the agonizing pain from his broken arm and the terror of having his Power so utterly crushed.
"I… I got it from… a passing merchant… traded… for… for three whole cave bear hides, and… and two sacks of high-grade rye…"
He struggled to lift his head, trying to avoid Roland's eyes. Their placidness was unnerving, sending a chill down his spine. The murky, dark red had faded from the Ogre's pupils, leaving them unfocused and wide with terror.
"A Merchant?"
Roland frowned slightly.
"What's his name? Where is he now?"
"His name… his name…"
A look of desperate concentration appeared on the Ogre's swollen, bruised face, his brow knitting in pain.
"I think he's called… called… Hiss… Damn it, I can't remember… That guy is secretive, rarely talks about himself… That's right!"
