He stooped and went out through the doorway, and Rombar followed.
Outside the door of the dungeon-chamber Polaris stumbled over the form of a tall man in armor, who lay with his face to the floor.
"More death?" Janess asked of Oleric, who busied himself with the bolts of the bronze door.
"Not so," said the captain with a chuckle, as he shot the last bar home in its socket. "Only the death that good wines bring. He has the best part of seven bottles in his skin."
He looked up at Polaris apologetically.
"Bel-Ar would flay him for this night's work, did he find him," he said. "You say the dog has been a good friend to you. Well, this man Mordo, with all his glum ways, is a good fellow. I will not leave my old drinking companion to the mercy of Bel-Ar."
Without answer, Polaris handed the light to Oleric, and stooped and swung the limp figure of Mordo to his shoulder.
Oleric glanced at the keys in his hand and then at the door.
"I'll not turn the locks," he said. "I would not have the poor slave within starve while they made new keys."