"Where are you taking me?"
Despite the full-body aches and even a slight fever, Horn still maintained a certain level of sanity.
After all the torment during this time, he hadn't made much progress in other skills, but he had made significant improvement in staying calm.
"Master Saint Grandson Pope, we're going to have a meeting." A sharp-nosed man forced a smile while leading the way and explaining.
"I haven't had the chance to introduce myself, I am your Attendant Officer, Grampwen."
"A meeting, what kind of meeting?" Horn coughed and asked in a hoarse voice.
"You'll know when we get there."
And so, Horn was sandwiched between two burly men, his feet barely touching the ground as they moved through the stone corridors of the monastery, the rose garden and vineyard, climbing the spiral staircase, arriving at the gatehouse of the Gulag Monastery's courtyard walls.
At that moment, a small makeshift shelter had been erected on the gatehouse with a wooden frame.
