Raef regained consciousness while being dragged down the steps of the Merchant Tower. The first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes was the second-floor tapestry that featured an old shopkeeper selling a tapestry of an old shopkeeper selling a tapestry. The scene repeated itself over and over within the threads in a masterwork of weaving. It had been months since he had visited Ralan in the Merchant Tower and passed the amusing scene. Raef doubted he'd ever see the inside of the Merchant Tower again.

His attention was wrenched to his captors as one of them adjusted his grip by yanking his arm forward. He cried out in pain at the force on his shoulder.

"Looks like the browncloak is awake," someone said from ahead of Raef. He was dragged down a few more steps and then dumped on the marble floor. Rolling into a sitting position, Raef rubbed his shoulders. They were stiff and sore but didn't seem damaged. He lifted his hand to feel where Saxe had kicked him in her head, but moving his arm above shoulder height was too painful. Maybe I'm hurt worse than I think, Raef considered as he looked up.

Two knights stood above him. They were in their formal armor, with the bright white leather and the thicker white robes with the golden trim. "The bruises seem an improvement, Jace," the one on the left said. He was smiling. The one on the right nodded.

"There's at least some blue. Much better than that filthy brown shirt." Without looking at Jace, he added, "Maybe we should remove the shirt and cover him with more bruises!"

Raef clenched his fists, remembering the previous Founder's Day when he had faced the same line of commentary from knights, right before they humiliated and beat him. Unlike then, he didn't remain quiet. "You have no authority to punish me. I am awaiting my guild colors and my guildmaster will decide my punishment." He hoped his words sounded forceful and confident.

The two guards looked at each other and then began laughing. "You just humiliated every guild in the city at the Banquet. What guild would possibly have you now?" the one named Jace said.

The other added, "And whichever guild was foolish enough to accept you, I am sure they have kicked you out by now."

"I am a member of the Thieves Guild." Raef's voice was louder and more confident.

The unnamed one to the right chuckled. "It really doesn't matter what guild you invent for yourself. Guildmaster Saxe is going to deal with you himself. So get up, we're taking you to the dungeons, and I don't feel like dragging you there."

Raef didn't move.

Finally realizing that he didn't intend on getting up, Jace stepped forward and kicked Raef's leg. As Raef cried out and grabbed his shin, the knight leaned down and grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him up slightly. Raef could smell the wine on his breath.

"Listen, browncloak. We're supposed to take you right to the dungeons, but if you don't cooperate, Sam and I may have to take some time teaching you obedience. We may get disciplined for being late, but if you're going to make us late anyway, at least we'll have some fun out of it." He clenched his fist and pressed it firmly against Raef's cheek.

Nodding, Raef scrambled to his feet. They secured his hands with manacles, and with Jace in front of him and Sam behind, they escorted him through the front gate of Merchant Tower. There was a white wagon of the Knight Protectors waiting at the road. It was the kind they used for drunks and the poor people that wandered into the north part of the city from the Flats. Jace opened the wooden door, and Sam shoved him in.

A few slits in the wood let in meager light. The coach itself was nothing but bare wood. There were no stools or benches. Raef sat in the corner of the wagon as it started down the road. He could feel every bump as the wheels pounded on the cobblestones. Surrounded by darkness, dust, and the smell of vomit, Raef closed his eyes and wondered if Ralan would save him.