Mayer Alan Brenner - Spell of Intrigue

There was still no reason not to make himself comfortable, at least for the moment, so Groot resumed his motion and lowered himself to the bench. “What does it look like?” he said crossly.

“Why, an escape, your lordship, that it does.”

“How can it be an escape if I’m still here?”

“An escape attempt , sir, then, if you please. You shouldn’t do this sort of thing; you know that. I’ll have to report this, surely I will.”

Of course you’ll report it, you nincompoop, that’s your job. Instead of that remark, though., Groot said. “How can I be trying to escape if I was coming back into the cell?”

“You got stuck, couldn’t squeeze yourself through, then, could you? One too many steins of the stout, was it? “

“On the contrary,” stated Groot. “If you will investigate for yourself, you will clearly see that this ventilation shaft is quite wide enough for both of us to pass at once. I was merely having a look at the weather and wondering where that bit of wall went to while I was dozing.”

The jailer was looking a bit smug, and not a little reassured. “Checking the lay of the land, then, were you?” he chuckled. “Well, no matter.” He had crossed the cell and was examining the hole for himself. “What’s this, then - a rope?”

“That’s what it looked like to me. What do you think it’s doing there?”

“Perhaps you’ll be telling the magistrate that yourself, then, won’t you. You may think you’re something, sir, but you’re no match for the likes of us, now, are you? Hah! - and what’s this?”

“This” was the loose chain and empty leg manacle. “If you please, sir?” the warder proposed. Groot allowed himself to be shackled again. As the jailer straightened, a muffled pounding, came to them from down the hall, along with someone shouting inaudible words. “What’s this, then?”

“Perhaps you’ve been ignoring some other prisoner?” Groot suggested.

“Not that racket, sir; that’s coming from the entrance hall. You mind yourself here, sir, I’ll be back with you straight away. And I’ll be taking this, too, if you don’t mind,” he added, carrying the stewpot with him to the door. Groot watched from his bench, arms crossed over his chest. His hand on the door to close it, the jailer paused. “You’re a gentlemen, sir, of that there’s no doubt.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“A strong fast one like you. not trying to cosh me and grab my keys while there you were, free of the chain. A smart move, though, I’ll have you know. You might have made it through to the door, but after that, then, well ...” He shrugged. “There might just have been a small detachment loitering about out in the front who wouldn’t be as kindly disposed toward you as a pleasant fellow such as I. “ The jailer touched his hand to his forelock.

“My man will show you our appreciation,” Groot told him.

“You stay put now.” the jailer warned, securing the door behind him.

Of course I’ll stay put , thought Groot, that’s the whole idea. Now that the jailer had found the nefarious action they had expected, and had easily headed it off, they would hopefully feel they had everything under control, which in turn should give Julio and Groot the freedom to concentrate on some real preparations. He settled back to think, and bide his time.

He didn’t have to wait long, as it turned out, for it wasn’t more than a minute before Warder Clang was back. The jailer’s shoulders, though, were hunched, as though he were unconsciously trying to protect himself from an ax-blow in the back, and his face was set in a deep frown. Pushing open the door, he said. “These visitors would speak with - oof!”

“Out of our way,” snapped the first of the men behind him, unnecessarily, since his contemptuous shove had already sent the jailer reeling off to one side. The man raised a gloved finger as Clang recovered his balance with a hand against the wall and wheeled to confront him. “Quiet,” the man directed.

The three visitors filed slowly into the cell and arranged themselves in a line facing Groot. They were dressed identically, all in black, black breeches, black tunics, black gloves, and black masks pulled over their heads and stuffed down their necks into the shirts. Oval cutouts lined with filmy black gauze outlined their eyes and mouths. The men on either flank were carrying small black satchels. “I thought the Council had the last of your lot disbanded years ago,” Groot told them.

“No,” said the one who had already spoken. “Obviously not. Public consumption to the contrary. You must realize why we have come.”

“Why don’t you explain it to me?” said Groot dryly. Inside. though, he felt anything but calm. Could this have been what the lawyer Snee had been concerned about, with his allusions about the remnants of Oolsmouth’s autocratic past?

“Very well, let your dread increase,” the man said. “You are Meester Haalsen Groot. We are … who we are. We have come to put you to the question. The key to his chain, please.” He stretched out a hand to the jailer, but did not move the direction of his gauze-hidden gaze from Groot.

“What’s the need of that, then?” said the jailer, his attitude surly.

“To unlock the chain,” said the man, “so we can remove him without first removing his foot.” The lower part of the hood stretched as he smiled beneath it. “Each thing in its time and place. To advance prematurely would be scarcely professional.” His two companions added a “hear-hear” in agreement on either side of him.

“No, sir,” said the jailer. “Begging your lordship’s pardon -”

“Be still,” the man told him. “We could question both of you as easily as one. Now, the key.” The jailer stared back at him, undecided, and the man in black raised a hand to strike.

“Just a moment,” said Groot. “You are obviously making some mistake. My incarceration here is purely a civil matter. Even if ‘the question’ was still legal or even standard procedure, which it clearly is not, you -”

The man, his attention diverted from the jailer to Groot, but obviously not wanting to waste an already uplifted hand, swept it down into Groot’s face. Groot rolled to the left with the slap as the man’s fingers scraped down his cheek and spun his head heavily around. Slightly too late, Groot realized fuzzily that there was more beneath the glove than just a hand, that under the glove the man was wearing an appliance giving him the force of heavy mass and a raw flaying surface studded with the hooks or tiny barbs that had just ripped their way through his flesh. He could clearly feel the warmth of blood as it trickled down toward his jaw from his mauled skin. Rather than concentrate on that, Groot unscrewed his eyes and looked back up. The man was standing with his arms crossed. “It is ordered,” he said.

“By whom?” said Groot mushily.

“By those who give such orders.”

“Look here,” Groot said, trying to drag his thoughts back into focus; he wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying out loud and what he was merely thinking. “This situation is totally unnecessary,” not to mention unexpected . “Whatever questions you have, why not just ask me? No one’s asked me anything.” have the y

“As in many such undertakings,” the man admitted, “the interrogation portion of the question is scarcely the point. Yet our orders are clear. No mistake has been made.”

“I’m being held to guarantee my bank loans,” muttered Groot. “That’s what I was told, I’m here as part of an extended business transaction. To advance from that to this attention from you is completely disproportionate and uncalled for.”