The man in bed touched the bandages and grimaced in pain. He was motionless in the bed and looked about the room. The exquisite, luxurious beauty of the walls and patterned ceiling, with the many crystals hanging from it suggested "home". He looked towards the window, just in time to see a tiny swallow turn and fly from the ledge, and a red-breasted Bourbon, was balancing on a branch and singing its aria to him. The latch on the door clicked as it was opened. The man in bed, lifted his head for a moment and watched three people approach him; the smaller one carrying a tray of food and drink. For a long time, silent looks were exchanged between them all. The cautious servant placed the tray over the man's lap and helped him to sit up. He placed another cushion at his back. The man looked at the food and at the others, until finally, the host smiled and took a bite from the food and sipped the drink. "Eat, my friend! You will not heal quickly if you do not eat." he said, then stepped away from him. The man in bed devoured the food as if he has never before eaten. The host and his wife glanced at each other as they watched him. After a minute, the injured man suddenly stopped and looked at the others who stared at him while he at. There was thick quiet until the injured man spoke, with a serious mistrust, in the tone of his voice. "Where is my book?" he asked. The host smiled at him and looked over to his wife. "Your encyclopedia is safe, my friend." answered the host, as he slowly neared the bed. The servant helped him sit up more comfortably in the bed when he showed too much pain, trying to so do by himself. Suspicion burned in the injured man's flaring eyes. He questioned his host further. "Who are you to know of such books?" "I am the sovereign of Phoride -- I am called Brook Scullion. This is my wife, Dearborne and our ... servant, Boy!" said the host, the Lord Brook. He continued. "We know of that book, and about much more!" There was quiet again for a few moments as their injured guest drank, his thoughts and fears sculpted across his wide hirsute face. "No!" said Brook. "It happens that we have common interests and like goals. You, however, have a strange courage, trying to speak out your knowledge. This is dangerous! -- No, my friend, if I were to kill you, it would be like preventing a cure for a rampant plague!" Dearborne neared the bed and looked at him while she explained to him, how he came to be there, in the room. "I was in the market today. When I was leaving I saw you, shouting and waving a book over your head, but no one listened. I did not leave, for the sake of curiosity, then after you were hurt, Boy and I brought you back here." when Dearborne finished, a small, thankful smile drifted across his face, then finally grew into a sincere completion when Boy added his thoughts. "You're heavy!" she said, rubbing his arms.