LJI F&R 12: Just don't look...
Mar. 4th, 2016 04:02 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 | Part 9
After escaping from jail, I had succeeded in cornering myself inside a cellar under the inn, and now, I found myself nestled against sacks of potatoes as the cellar door was being opened. Positioned there, knife in hand, I hoped it was nothing more than someone stopping by for just a moment to grab a quick something for the kitchen upstairs. I also hoped that something was not a bag of potatoes. The door creaked open.
“Down you go, galley rat,” said a gruff voice, in a commanding tone.
“Aw, c'mon Cook,” said a much younger voice, “I already said I'm sorry. Don't make me go down there.”
“Yer lucky the mistress didn't order yer guts be knitted into potholders,” said the first voice. “Now, in with you, 'til daybreak tomorrow. And min' you, no makin' no noise, an' no touchin' no food, or else!”
A few moments later, the door slammed closed, and I heard mechanical sounds. I risked a peek from my place behind the potatoes and observed a boy standing at the foot of the cellar stairs, looking up at the door with his back to me. As I watched, the boy's legs became rubbery, and he collapsed into a sitting position. He started to cry.
I put away my knife, and waited a few minutes until the boy's sobs faded away. Then I stepped out and away from the potatoes, and made my presence known.
“Hallo, there!” I said. The boy started violently. “And what did you do to get yourself locked up down here?” My question was sincere.
The boy turned to face me. His eyes were so large I thought they'd pop out of his head. When he saw me, they became larger still. “Y-you're him!” he said, after a moment.
“That depends who you ask,” I said. “But what makes you say that?” I continued.
“Finch and his cousin came a-runnin' back from the jail,” he said, “and found the jailer tied up on the floor of one of the cells, and you gone! That got 'em all riled up, and stuff, an' everyone's looking for you.” He cocked his head and looked at me, “How'd you do that, anyway?”
“I just did it, is all,” I said, and then changed the subject. “What's your name?” I asked.
“Gellerat,” he said, “but everyone calls me 'galley rat'.”
“Pleased to meet you, I'm sure, Gellerat” I said, making sure to pronounce his name correctly. “They call me Feather.” And then, “So what'd you do to get locked up down here?”
“Oh, Mistress Malon—the witch—she complained to Cook about my attitude when I brought lunch to her and the girl she's watching over. Said I was disrespectful when I...”
“What girl? Usha?” I interrupted. “Where is she?”
“I don't know her name,” said the boy, “but Malon had the doctor over this morning, to take a look at her, and then no sooner had the doctor left, but Malon took a couple of his gang and left for Celeron with some papers the doctor had written on.”
“What color is the girl's hair?” I asked.
“Oh, I know that,” he said, and smiled. “Red. Like a carrot.”
“Where is she?” I repeated my previous question.
“Up on the top floor, toward the back of the inn,” said the boy. “But you'll never get to her, even if you get out of here,” he continued. “They gave her something to make her sleep pretty much all the time, so even if you did get to her, you'd have to carry her out, and nobody'd let you do that.” His gaze went back to the cellar door and his eyes started to well up again as he thought about spending the night in the cellar.
I stepped up to test the cellar door, but it was well and truly locked. I also noticed that it been outfitted with hardware to lock it from the inside. I rejoined the boy at the bottom of the cellar steps.
“Gellerat, is this is the only way into and out of the cellar?” I asked.
The boy looked at me as if I was crazy. “I don't see any others,” he said. It was a fair enough answer, but being able to lock the door from the inside made no sense unless there was another way in, so I squatted down and took closer stock of my surroundings. Before, I just hadn't looked; but now that I knew what to look for—and was paying attention—the answer was obvious.
Most of the cellar's floor area was taken up with piles or stacks of boxes, bags, barrels, or bottles. Shelves stood against all of the walls, except for a section about three feet wide, on the wall directly opposite the entrance to the cellar.
I rose and walked up to this part of the wall, taking out my dagger and knife. The boy apparently thought I was preparing to kill him, because he started to whine.
“Shut up,” I said, and he did. “Come here, next to me,” I continued. “You may yet be of use.” The boy approached me, cautiously. I really had no idea if I could use him or not, but I wanted him near me, just in case.
After a few moments, I found the thin crack that defined the boundaries of a panel door set into the wall. There was no obvious knob or other device for opening it, but I figured that whoever was in the cellar might have to open that door from the cellar side, so there was probably some kind of hidden catch to do that. After a few minutes, I found it and worked the mechanism. The door popped open by less than a finger's width. The boy's eyes grew large again.
“Wow!” he said. “You are a magician.”
I said nothing. Instead, I used the point of my knife to lever the door open to the point where I could reach into the crack between the door and the jamb and open the door fully.
A long, dark corridor lay behind the door, illuminated only by a few cracks in the far wall. If my mental plan of where I was inside the inn was correct, the corridor ran directly down the middle of the building, from front to back. I stepped over the threshold.
“C'mon, Gellerat,” I said. “Show me where the girl is.”
“Oh, no,” he said. “I can't. If they find out I helped you at all, they'll break my arms and legs and then leave me out in the woods for the wolves.”
“Where is the girl, then?” I asked, and put as much menace in my voice as I could.
“Like I said before,” he said, and he started to whine again. “On the top floor, at the back.” After a few more questions, it was clear that this was all he could tell me.
“Okay,” I said, “here's what's going to happen. I'm going to leave you here, and you're going to be quiet until Cook comes to get you tomorrow morning, is that clear?” Gellerat nodded. “And you never saw me, we never met, and you never told me where Usha is, got it?” Another nod. I then dropped my voice as deep as it could go and said, “And remember this—if you try to double-cross me somehow, I will find you and when I am through, you will beg for wolves to come rip the guts from your belly. Understood?” Gellerat nodded slightly, barely able to stay on his legs at this point.
I turned and stepped across the threshold of the secret door and pulled it shut behind me. Somewhere, up ahead, was Usha.
I could not fail her now.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5| Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
After escaping from jail, I had succeeded in cornering myself inside a cellar under the inn, and now, I found myself nestled against sacks of potatoes as the cellar door was being opened. Positioned there, knife in hand, I hoped it was nothing more than someone stopping by for just a moment to grab a quick something for the kitchen upstairs. I also hoped that something was not a bag of potatoes. The door creaked open.
“Down you go, galley rat,” said a gruff voice, in a commanding tone.
“Aw, c'mon Cook,” said a much younger voice, “I already said I'm sorry. Don't make me go down there.”
“Yer lucky the mistress didn't order yer guts be knitted into potholders,” said the first voice. “Now, in with you, 'til daybreak tomorrow. And min' you, no makin' no noise, an' no touchin' no food, or else!”
A few moments later, the door slammed closed, and I heard mechanical sounds. I risked a peek from my place behind the potatoes and observed a boy standing at the foot of the cellar stairs, looking up at the door with his back to me. As I watched, the boy's legs became rubbery, and he collapsed into a sitting position. He started to cry.
I put away my knife, and waited a few minutes until the boy's sobs faded away. Then I stepped out and away from the potatoes, and made my presence known.
“Hallo, there!” I said. The boy started violently. “And what did you do to get yourself locked up down here?” My question was sincere.
The boy turned to face me. His eyes were so large I thought they'd pop out of his head. When he saw me, they became larger still. “Y-you're him!” he said, after a moment.
“That depends who you ask,” I said. “But what makes you say that?” I continued.
“Finch and his cousin came a-runnin' back from the jail,” he said, “and found the jailer tied up on the floor of one of the cells, and you gone! That got 'em all riled up, and stuff, an' everyone's looking for you.” He cocked his head and looked at me, “How'd you do that, anyway?”
“I just did it, is all,” I said, and then changed the subject. “What's your name?” I asked.
“Gellerat,” he said, “but everyone calls me 'galley rat'.”
“Pleased to meet you, I'm sure, Gellerat” I said, making sure to pronounce his name correctly. “They call me Feather.” And then, “So what'd you do to get locked up down here?”
“Oh, Mistress Malon—the witch—she complained to Cook about my attitude when I brought lunch to her and the girl she's watching over. Said I was disrespectful when I...”
“What girl? Usha?” I interrupted. “Where is she?”
“I don't know her name,” said the boy, “but Malon had the doctor over this morning, to take a look at her, and then no sooner had the doctor left, but Malon took a couple of his gang and left for Celeron with some papers the doctor had written on.”
“What color is the girl's hair?” I asked.
“Oh, I know that,” he said, and smiled. “Red. Like a carrot.”
“Where is she?” I repeated my previous question.
“Up on the top floor, toward the back of the inn,” said the boy. “But you'll never get to her, even if you get out of here,” he continued. “They gave her something to make her sleep pretty much all the time, so even if you did get to her, you'd have to carry her out, and nobody'd let you do that.” His gaze went back to the cellar door and his eyes started to well up again as he thought about spending the night in the cellar.
I stepped up to test the cellar door, but it was well and truly locked. I also noticed that it been outfitted with hardware to lock it from the inside. I rejoined the boy at the bottom of the cellar steps.
“Gellerat, is this is the only way into and out of the cellar?” I asked.
The boy looked at me as if I was crazy. “I don't see any others,” he said. It was a fair enough answer, but being able to lock the door from the inside made no sense unless there was another way in, so I squatted down and took closer stock of my surroundings. Before, I just hadn't looked; but now that I knew what to look for—and was paying attention—the answer was obvious.
Most of the cellar's floor area was taken up with piles or stacks of boxes, bags, barrels, or bottles. Shelves stood against all of the walls, except for a section about three feet wide, on the wall directly opposite the entrance to the cellar.
I rose and walked up to this part of the wall, taking out my dagger and knife. The boy apparently thought I was preparing to kill him, because he started to whine.
“Shut up,” I said, and he did. “Come here, next to me,” I continued. “You may yet be of use.” The boy approached me, cautiously. I really had no idea if I could use him or not, but I wanted him near me, just in case.
After a few moments, I found the thin crack that defined the boundaries of a panel door set into the wall. There was no obvious knob or other device for opening it, but I figured that whoever was in the cellar might have to open that door from the cellar side, so there was probably some kind of hidden catch to do that. After a few minutes, I found it and worked the mechanism. The door popped open by less than a finger's width. The boy's eyes grew large again.
“Wow!” he said. “You are a magician.”
I said nothing. Instead, I used the point of my knife to lever the door open to the point where I could reach into the crack between the door and the jamb and open the door fully.
A long, dark corridor lay behind the door, illuminated only by a few cracks in the far wall. If my mental plan of where I was inside the inn was correct, the corridor ran directly down the middle of the building, from front to back. I stepped over the threshold.
“C'mon, Gellerat,” I said. “Show me where the girl is.”
“Oh, no,” he said. “I can't. If they find out I helped you at all, they'll break my arms and legs and then leave me out in the woods for the wolves.”
“Where is the girl, then?” I asked, and put as much menace in my voice as I could.
“Like I said before,” he said, and he started to whine again. “On the top floor, at the back.” After a few more questions, it was clear that this was all he could tell me.
“Okay,” I said, “here's what's going to happen. I'm going to leave you here, and you're going to be quiet until Cook comes to get you tomorrow morning, is that clear?” Gellerat nodded. “And you never saw me, we never met, and you never told me where Usha is, got it?” Another nod. I then dropped my voice as deep as it could go and said, “And remember this—if you try to double-cross me somehow, I will find you and when I am through, you will beg for wolves to come rip the guts from your belly. Understood?” Gellerat nodded slightly, barely able to stay on his legs at this point.
I turned and stepped across the threshold of the secret door and pulled it shut behind me. Somewhere, up ahead, was Usha.
I could not fail her now.
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no subject
Date: 2016-03-05 12:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-06 11:24 am (UTC)Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-03-05 11:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-06 11:25 am (UTC)Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-03-05 06:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-06 11:26 am (UTC)Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-03-05 11:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-06 11:26 am (UTC)Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-03-06 06:29 am (UTC)It sounds as if the witch may run things in this town, which does not bode well.
no subject
Date: 2016-03-06 11:27 am (UTC)I shall have to give it some thought.
Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-03-06 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-07 12:11 pm (UTC)Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-03-06 11:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-07 12:09 pm (UTC)About that line: I wanted something along the lines of "so-and-so will have your guts for garters," but that's been done quite a bit, so I modified it a bit to fit a cook.
I actually like it quite a bit, too.
Cheers...
no subject
Date: 2016-03-07 07:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-03-07 12:14 pm (UTC)Cheers...
P.S. I agree. The major question then, is: when will "in the end" occur? :)