For my love of Steinar was known, and in this matter none trusted me.
That dungeon was a dreadful place.

I see it now.

In the floor of the temple was a trap-door, which, when lifted, revealed a flight of steps.
At the foot of these steps was another massive door of oak, bolted and barred.

It was opened and closed behind me, who found myself in a darksome den built of rough stone, to which air came only through an opening in the roof, so small that not even a child could pass it.

In the far corner of this hole, bound to the wall by an iron chain fastened round his middle, Steinar lay upon a bed of rushes, while on a stool beside him stood food and water.