After two days of hardly anything to drink and no food his mouth watered even from the smell of an obviously burnt stew.

"Hound" one the warrior's son called out, hitting the bowl with a spoon, like when calling in the chickens for corn.

"You would like to eat, wouldn't you" he said and held the still steaming bowl up before his head. "Let's see…"

"Rape is a sin." He spooned some of the food to the floor, the droplet sprinkling his boots.

"Theft is a sin." More food fell to the floor.

"Murder is a sin." About half the bowl was gone.

The guard looked at him and smiled…."I forgot something" he said with a sneaky smile.

"Being ugly is an insult to the eye. Your face scares every righteous man." With a twist of his wrist he emptied everything.

Sandor didn't even bother to raise his eyebrows. Leg or not, the only thing giving the guards the balls to talk like that were the bars between them.

Later the rats would come and feed from the food.

Somebody brought him a waterskin. He drank like he had just crossed the Dornish waste.

The guards grew tired of the spoon game after some days. Sandor knew they had a new idea when he heard the joyful call.

"You see, I don't want to waste the food anymore…So here you have it" one said and spit a mouthful in the bowl. He stirred it with the spoon and put it close enough to the bars for Sandor to take it.

Two more days he resisted before eating while the guards' laughter echoed from the walls. Coins were exchanged over lost and won bets.

Now and then a septon came and wanted him to confess his sins. He never said a word.

He had talked to one and only one septon once about his sins, and that would be the end of it.

She was everywhere in his dreams full of unspeakable thoughts that he tried to ban from his head during the day. She would be fine. She would find her sister. Nobody would touch a silent sister.

The last chance he had ever had to redeem himself was gone. He had failed her.

He lost the count of time. There was no sun, no other indication of the past but the growing beard on half his face.

When they came for him after many days, he braced himself for pain. There is only one thing you can do for her he thought. Never say her name nobody knows she's still alive.

His eyeballs burnt when they dragged him into the sun, splashing him all over with buckets of cold water.

"Don't be shy, Hound" one man bellowed above his chanting comrades "We'll make you pretty for the trial at court."