Sean sat opposite the knight, his legs stretched out before him as he stared thoughtfully at the rough stone ceiling.
"Tell me, oh great knight," he mused, "what was it like on the battlefield? Was it everything the stories claim?"
Silence answered him.
Benjamin neither spoke nor lifted his head.
Sean's gaze drifted from the ceiling to the bound knight.
"Are you too thirsty to speak?" he asked, concern softening his voice.
Benjamin slowly raised his eyes and gave the faintest nod, wearing an expression that would have stirred pity in anyone.
Sean was on his feet at once.
"Wait here," he said. "I'll only be gone for a moment."
He hurried to the door, his hand closing around the iron doorknob. Just as he was about to open it, he hesitated.
"Abram wouldn't notice if I borrowed a few ounces of water..." he murmured to himself.
After a brief pause, he nodded as though convincing himself.
"He'll never know."
