Unferth would not be so bold as to call herself a devotee of art, but even she could tell there was something unusual about the painting before her. Aged tapestries, paintings and carvings dotted the walls of the dungeon, but even behind centuries of decay and lichen, there were hints of past glory: crowns, swords, great battles lined in bits of gold still clinging to stone. This one, though, lacked such pretentions.
Stretching up along the rocky wall was a herd of painted courses, all...