The cold wind woke me again. It howled across the tundra
before boring into my cell through the single, round window. I shivered in the
small, stone chamber in which I was held. The only furniture was an old cot
with a ratty blanket. The only guards were icy bars, so cold my hands stuck to
them the only time I gave them an experimental shake. I could hear other
prisoners groan, but I saw them only when they were dragged to or from their
cells by fur-wrapped guards. I wondered, as I shivered, when it will be my
turn.
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