Agelmar moved closer. Domon tore his eyes away from the Seanchan. Tavolin came out, trailing another officer and two clerks, one carrying a large, wood-bound ledger and the other a tray with writing implements. Loial walked beside him, saying nothing.
Too much zeal, sometimes. Glass lamp mantles cracked as the flames leaped higher and hotter, lighting the room as bright as unsheltered noon. A tall, bulky shadow, and snouted. Lord Ingtar's back there, he said, nodding down the narrow passage.
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