It was hard to tell who shot out of bed faster, he or Shartan, at the bloodcurdling cry of anguish that jerked him from a deep sleep. Narrowing his eyes in the inky dark that shrouded his small windowless room, Cormac threw back the heavy covers of his bed and listened, his nerves on edge as he strained to hear any further sounds of distress. The echoes of the cry faded away and the Keep lapsed back into the oppressive silence of deep night.
Growling with annoyance, Cormac strode over to the chamber door and threw it open with a furious slap, disregarding the clamor as the heavy wood slammed open against the stone wall in the hallway outside his room with a booming crack that rang down the corridor.
"By the Maker, if you scream like that again, you'd better be dying. Because I'll kill you if you aren't!" He snarled the words in the general direction of the kitchen, where the cry had originated, before slamming his door shut once more for posterity and stomping back to bed.