Boards had been nailed over the tiny window at street level. This wasn't a place where light was welcomed. And all the walls, and even the ceiling, were padded heavily with sacks stuffed with straw. Sacks had even been nailed to the door. This was a very thorough
cell. Not even sound was meant to escape.
A couple of torches did nothing at all for the darkness except make it dirty.
Behind him, Vimes heard Nancyball throw up.
In a strange kind of dream, he walked across the floor and bent down to pick up something that gleamed in the torchlight. It was a tooth.