Page 124 of Paladin's Faith

The woman in the chair was very tall and very thin, her wrists and ankles sticking out from her cuffs. She did not look as if there was a single spare ounce of flesh on her body. Her eyes were very large in a narrow face.

“So these are the prisoners,” she said.

“Yes, Wisdom,” the leader of their captors replied. Marguerite felt Shane stiffen beside her. She turned her head slightly, but the paladin was still staring straight ahead, as still as a mouse under a hawk’s shadow.

The woman called Wisdom rose to her feet. Her motions were strangely fluid, as if she had more than the usual number of joints. She bounced slightly on the balls of her feet, studying each of the prisoners in turn. Marguerite met her eyes squarely and said, “I believe there’s been a misunderstanding, Your…Wisdom?”

“Probably,” Wisdom agreed. She sounded rather amused by the possibility.

“We—that is, the four of us—were fleeing our attackers. We had no desire to trespass on your lands. We were running for our lives.”

“Mmmm.” Wisdom moved past, eyeing Shane with deep interest. His jaw was tight, his eyes absolutely blank.

“We meant no offense,” Marguerite said, staring at the side of Shane’s head. Come on, use the voice. Back me up here.

It was Davith who jumped in and said, “I don’t blame you for being angry, Your Wisdom, but I assure you, we’re harmless. Not terribly bright, but harmless.” Marguerite was certain that he was giving Wisdom his most winning smile.

“That’s a lie,” said Wisdom, still sounding rather amused. “You’ve got two paladins with you.”

How the hell did she know that? Marguerite flicked a glance at the two Red Sail operatives. Have they talked? But when would they have talked? We haven’t been out of each other’s sight. Unless Wisdom’s had her people spying on us.

“Then you know paladins don’t hurt the innocent,” she said, trying to salvage the situation. “And they certainly don’t raid villages or whatever you suspect us of doing. I promise that we mean you no ill-will whatsoever.”

Now would be a great time to say something, Shane. Her eyes bored holes in the side of his head. Surely he could feel that?

“Ah yes, the…innocent.” Wisdom moved on to Wren, giving her the same intent examination that she’d given Shane. “How many of us are truly innocent, I wonder?”

Rat and Forge and Lady of Grass, if any of you love me, please do not let us have fallen in with a group of religious fanatics. Marguerite steeled herself and threw the conversational dice. “Truly, we are sorry to have disturbed your people. If there’s something that we can do by way of apology, please tell us. I’m certain that we can come to a resolution.”

“Oh, I have no doubt of that,” said Wisdom. She stepped back and gestured to the man who seemed to be leading their captors. “Erlick, take our guests to the cell. Politely.”

Erlick bowed, then turned back. “Come on, you lot.” He twitched the rope binding their hands together and led them back out of the room. Marguerite looked over her shoulder and saw Wisdom sitting back down in the chair, strange and supple as an eel.

Their captor took them down a set of stairs, waiting with surprising patience while they negotiated it without full use of their hands. The Sail operative on the end was slower than the rest, which gave Marguerite time to examine their surroundings. Big place, but not all of a piece. They’ve been adding bits on here and there. The mortar and the size of the stones changed from one wall to the next, and the depth of the stairs seemed to alter almost at random. This is an old keep, and whoever lived here had money, once upon a time.

Judging by the smell of cheap tallow and the flicker of rushlights, that time had passed.

The cell was, as advertised, a cell. It was about the size of an ordinary bedroom, with three stone walls and iron bars across the front. Marguerite suspected that it had probably been part of a stable once, since they passed by several deep alcoves that looked suspiciously like horse stalls. Rushlights burned in metal holders, illuminating a long wooden bench along the back wall, and a chamber pot in the corner. Incongruously, the pot was blush pink.

Erlick opened the cell door and gestured them inside.

“May we be untied?” asked Marguerite, with as much courtesy as she could muster under the circumstances.

“Once you’re inside.”

Lacking other options, Marguerite stepped inside. “Oh good, a prison,” said Davith. One of the Sail operatives snorted. Shane and Wren were still as silent as the grave.

When they were inside, Erlick shut the door. The guard at the back of the line, who was carrying a crossbow, pointed it into the cell.

“Hold your hands out,” Erlick said, “politely.”

Marguerite offered her hands through the bars. The man untied her wrists with a few quick motions, then moved to the next. Marguerite thanked him, despite the pain of pins and needles in her hands. So did Davith and one of the Sail. The paladins did not.

“Right.” Erlick looped the rope around his shoulder. “You lot behave yourselves, and there’ll be water and as much food as we can spare. You don’t, and there’ll still be water, but we’ll take the light with us. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” said Marguerite, massaging her wrists. “Please tell Wisdom that I would be happy to negotiate any kind of settlement she wishes.” She did not actually want to say ransom, even if it was accurate.

Erlick eyed her, snorted, then motioned to the other guard and walked away.

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