This train of thought kept his mind occupied until he finally reached his goal; a passageway built into the outer wall of the rotunda, with an inward-facing latticework that allowed him to see and hear the object of his mission.
He noted with relief that his stool remained where he had left it. If sitting motionless and staring and listening through the latticework for endless hours made for tired, aching muscles, having to stand was far worse. Ah, for a return to the open rigours of battle! Settling himself, he noted abstractly that the walls of the corridors were well-designed, having been built of stone, lined with wood, wall, floor, and ceiling, and overall covered with jute and horsehair-stuffed burlap which had been tacked in place. In this manner, even the worst mishap would produce minimal noise.
Sitting down upon the stool, he pressed his face to the pinhole-perforated latticework; and immediately had to stifle a sneeze; and a laugh, having heard many of the ghost-stories which circulated, especially amongst the Novices and Scribes. So many of the ghosts were said to have sneezed, that he was certain, in his own mind, of the source of these tales.
The urge to sneeze finally subdued, he pressed his cheek to the latticework once more, and peered through. His quarry, as usual, was seated at his scribing desk. He heard something, shifted his gaze, and smiled. There were two! Hopefully this would mean conversation, and for himself, a break from the usual tedium. This came as a partial relief. His masters in Valerian and Mirrindale were becoming impatient for news. He smiled at that thought. There were those who believed that serving two masters could only end in disaster.