This hall was full of men.
Different from the women whose smell was sharp this was heavier. The air in the corridor changed fifty feet out, greasy, musky, sweat, urine, feces and semen and something else, rotting meat.
He stepped inside, the cave heat rushed out and hit him on the face, wet heat.
The men were chained to the walls. Iron collars around their necks. Wrist manacles, ankle shackles, heavy chains bolted to rings set in the stone. Enough slack to sit, to lie down. Not enough to reach each other. Each man had his own space, his own circle of filth.
There were thirty of them. Maybe more, the light was bad. Coals and shadows. Kaelen saw bodies stretched out on the stone floor. Some lay on their sides, some on their backs. Some sat with their knees drawn up and their heads down, their skin was pale. Gray in the firelight, ribs and collarbones pushed against the skin. Muscle wasted away, limbs thin as rope.
The smell hit him in layers.
