LJ F&R 11: Innocuous...
Feb. 26th, 2016 06:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexpgpThe story so far:
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5| Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
I was careless as I turned the corner and so I ran almost directly into Finch and Ellmore, who were coming my way. My heart stopped for several moments, for I fully expected Malon's goons to recognize me. Ellmore, after all, had kept me immobile for several minutes while Finch gave Lascaux the beating that killed him, after which Finch turned and knocked me unconscious.
After a moment, though, it became clear to me that the pair was sharing a private joke of some kind, because aside from shoving me out of their path, they paid no attention to me and continued past, in the general direction of the jail. Had I been armed, I would have been sorely tempted to get some payback for my Master, but I wasn't, and that was that.
I turned and resumed walking, as innocuously as I could, in the direction of where the inn was supposed to be. After a couple of hundred yards, I spied the inn on the other side of the street, recognizing it by its distinctive roof line. From my vantage point, I was looking at the back side of the inn, and there, not far from a wide wooden door that was doubtless used for supplies, stood the cart in which Usha and I had been brought into town. I continued down the street, past the inn, and then crossed the thoroughfare. Once across, I changed direction, returned to the inn, and climbed into the back of the cart.
The leather bag was still there, under the driver's seat, half covered by the rope that passed through the pulley blocks. I moved the rope aside, opened the bag quietly, retrieved the dagger than I had stolen from Malon, and set about examining the other items in the bag.
Most of the contents consisted of leather-working tools, the kind that come in handy for repairing tack. These were in a poor condition, caked with rust, and useless to me.
Beneath those tools was a sheathed hunting knife that was well-oiled, well-balanced (even in my small hands) and wickedly sharp. I appropriated it. I also took a small leather purse of coins, deciding to wait until later to loosen the knot that held the pouch closed. Coin was coin, and even a purse of coppers increased my working capital.
A pair of sharp taps on the side of the cart startled me very nearly to the point of immobility. As I slowly reached for my newly acquired knife, Fremd's face came into view over the side of the cart, and his attention seemed fully fixed on the pipe he had just emptied against the side board.
“I would not waste too much time in there, young man,” said Fremd. His voice was quiet, and he kept looking at his pipe. “A couple of the boys were sent to the jail a little while back. To kill you, you know.”
“Where's Usha?” I asked.
“She's safe, for now,” said Fremd. “But did you hear what I said? Malon wants you dead.” He glanced up and back the way I had come. Then he turned away. “You'll pardon me, but I don't want to be anywhere near you when Finch and his cousin come tearing around that corner with the news you've escaped. I got in Dutch enough with Malon last time, with him thinking I helped Usha escape that search party he sent me on.”
“Which you did,” I said. Fremd stopped for a moment, then said, "I don't owe you nothing," and continued walking.
“Wait!” I said. “At least tell me where I can hide?”
“Keep yer voice down,” said Fremd. “Go around the side, go down in the root cellar. Stay until night. Leave town.”
“But what about...?” I said, but Fremd had passed through the wide wooden door and closed it behind him.
I climbed down from the cart and followed Fremd's instructions. No sooner had I closed the cellar door behind me and dug in among several sacks of potatoes, but I began to hear shouts that got louder and eventually turned into a general tumult in the building above me.
Through the ceiling of the root cellar, I heard muffled exclamations, which I took to be orders being issued in response to my escape. I took stock of my situation.
My escape had been discovered, but at least I was now armed with a knife. I had learned nothing about Usha's whereabouts, but I was at least in a position to buy things, including information—assuming I could stay alive long enough to do so. I was free for the moment, but effectively trapped in a cramped cellar underneath a building filled with hoodlums out for my blood.
You've got them right where you want 'em, whispered Lascaux's ghostly voice in my ear. Buck up... you're still alive... it said. And that sure beats the alternative...
How typically like my Master, I thought, and gave a little involuntary grin.
Then I snapped to alertness.
Voices passing just outside the door to the root cellar went silent, and now the cellar door was rattling, as if it was about to be opened.
I burrowed as far more as I could into the sacks of potatoes, with my back to them, as I drew my new knife from its sheath and held it out and down.
Then I waited for whoever—in whatever number—to come down the stairs.
[To Part 10]
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5| Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
I was careless as I turned the corner and so I ran almost directly into Finch and Ellmore, who were coming my way. My heart stopped for several moments, for I fully expected Malon's goons to recognize me. Ellmore, after all, had kept me immobile for several minutes while Finch gave Lascaux the beating that killed him, after which Finch turned and knocked me unconscious.
After a moment, though, it became clear to me that the pair was sharing a private joke of some kind, because aside from shoving me out of their path, they paid no attention to me and continued past, in the general direction of the jail. Had I been armed, I would have been sorely tempted to get some payback for my Master, but I wasn't, and that was that.
I turned and resumed walking, as innocuously as I could, in the direction of where the inn was supposed to be. After a couple of hundred yards, I spied the inn on the other side of the street, recognizing it by its distinctive roof line. From my vantage point, I was looking at the back side of the inn, and there, not far from a wide wooden door that was doubtless used for supplies, stood the cart in which Usha and I had been brought into town. I continued down the street, past the inn, and then crossed the thoroughfare. Once across, I changed direction, returned to the inn, and climbed into the back of the cart.
The leather bag was still there, under the driver's seat, half covered by the rope that passed through the pulley blocks. I moved the rope aside, opened the bag quietly, retrieved the dagger than I had stolen from Malon, and set about examining the other items in the bag.
Most of the contents consisted of leather-working tools, the kind that come in handy for repairing tack. These were in a poor condition, caked with rust, and useless to me.
Beneath those tools was a sheathed hunting knife that was well-oiled, well-balanced (even in my small hands) and wickedly sharp. I appropriated it. I also took a small leather purse of coins, deciding to wait until later to loosen the knot that held the pouch closed. Coin was coin, and even a purse of coppers increased my working capital.
A pair of sharp taps on the side of the cart startled me very nearly to the point of immobility. As I slowly reached for my newly acquired knife, Fremd's face came into view over the side of the cart, and his attention seemed fully fixed on the pipe he had just emptied against the side board.
“I would not waste too much time in there, young man,” said Fremd. His voice was quiet, and he kept looking at his pipe. “A couple of the boys were sent to the jail a little while back. To kill you, you know.”
“Where's Usha?” I asked.
“She's safe, for now,” said Fremd. “But did you hear what I said? Malon wants you dead.” He glanced up and back the way I had come. Then he turned away. “You'll pardon me, but I don't want to be anywhere near you when Finch and his cousin come tearing around that corner with the news you've escaped. I got in Dutch enough with Malon last time, with him thinking I helped Usha escape that search party he sent me on.”
“Which you did,” I said. Fremd stopped for a moment, then said, "I don't owe you nothing," and continued walking.
“Wait!” I said. “At least tell me where I can hide?”
“Keep yer voice down,” said Fremd. “Go around the side, go down in the root cellar. Stay until night. Leave town.”
“But what about...?” I said, but Fremd had passed through the wide wooden door and closed it behind him.
I climbed down from the cart and followed Fremd's instructions. No sooner had I closed the cellar door behind me and dug in among several sacks of potatoes, but I began to hear shouts that got louder and eventually turned into a general tumult in the building above me.
Through the ceiling of the root cellar, I heard muffled exclamations, which I took to be orders being issued in response to my escape. I took stock of my situation.
My escape had been discovered, but at least I was now armed with a knife. I had learned nothing about Usha's whereabouts, but I was at least in a position to buy things, including information—assuming I could stay alive long enough to do so. I was free for the moment, but effectively trapped in a cramped cellar underneath a building filled with hoodlums out for my blood.
You've got them right where you want 'em, whispered Lascaux's ghostly voice in my ear. Buck up... you're still alive... it said. And that sure beats the alternative...
How typically like my Master, I thought, and gave a little involuntary grin.
Then I snapped to alertness.
Voices passing just outside the door to the root cellar went silent, and now the cellar door was rattling, as if it was about to be opened.
I burrowed as far more as I could into the sacks of potatoes, with my back to them, as I drew my new knife from its sheath and held it out and down.
Then I waited for whoever—in whatever number—to come down the stairs.
[To Part 10]
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no subject
Date: 2016-02-27 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-28 12:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-27 03:59 pm (UTC)The story continues to unravel, and I am as enthralled as I was in the beginning. :-)
no subject
Date: 2016-02-28 12:27 am (UTC)I'm glad you're enjoying the story.
Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-02-28 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 11:16 pm (UTC)Do you think it would work?
Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-02-28 04:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 11:17 pm (UTC)Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-02-28 10:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 11:17 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment!
Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 11:18 pm (UTC)Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 02:55 am (UTC)As always, stellar.
no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 11:19 pm (UTC)I, too, feel some kind of major leap coming up.
Unfortunately, I don't know what it is, yet. ;^)
Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 02:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 11:19 pm (UTC)Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 04:00 am (UTC)And still wondering where Usha is...
no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 11:19 pm (UTC)Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 11:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-29 11:21 pm (UTC)There will (I hope) be opportunities in the future for the dagger to play a role in the story.
:)
Cheers...