Her husband must be tired of listening to all the compliments she gets from their friends and colleagues. All men must turn their heads when she walks... into a room.”“That is very true, Mobu,” said Becca. “I know she has in the past had to tell some of them off. You know what Italian men are like, with their pinching of bottoms and stroking of thighs. I feel for poor Francesco, having to put up with all those men desiring his wife.”Francesco knew Becca was making fun of him, but he said nothing,. They'd tried to break him on in their torture chambers but to a being such as he, their best efforts of their mistresses were nothing more than sweat tickles. In the end, one of them had created a temporary Dungeon Heart, threw him in a prison, and immediately abandoned the location.The Prison had not been too difficult to dismember but the walls… only a magically enhanced pick such as that used by an Imp or Dwarves Tunneler could break through the magically enhanced walls of a Dungeon with any. “That’s fine.”She felt a twinge of disappointment that he was willing to give up so easily on her. It just confirmed in her own mind that this was all a stupid idea.“Paula asked me to show you where the others live,” she said. “You ready?”“I guess so.”She had expected him to say “You bet I am!“ or, perhaps, “Bring them on, Baby, I’m hot to trot!” That he seemed just as ambivalent about all this as she did made him seem less threatening than he’d been a few minutes before.It only took them seven. With a last groan, the light faded and her eyes closed. When her eyes opened again she was in her tent, her body tired, but her wounds healed, the pain gone, praise Hazar. She looked around, recognising the room, her lush red rugs covering the plains the war camp was set on, tables and furniture set out, for her use, a few personal effects settled around and, notably, two people, blurs standing by the entrance to her tent.She moved to sit up but felt weighed down, with a groan as a dizziness.