Gunpowder

Chapter VI - Jailhouse Blues

The girl startled, but before she could take any action, two nasty young men turned from the nearest stand ready to shoot their crossbows. She felt a blade prickling her back. In the corner of her eye, she saw a sturdy man dressed as a longshoreman putting two nasty-looking guns to Breiig's spine. A man with the goatee approached the agent and grabbed her chin with a lazy motion.

- You will come with me, birdie. And do not try any tricks, because Larsen is just waiting to tickle you, and besides him there are still half a dozen shooters no less eager to play with you.

A murmur of laughter from Larsen and his stalwart companion summed up the ambiguity. Iskandriel wondered whether the attackers were actually so determined to start a shoot-out in the city centre, but if they were, any attempt to escape would cost her life. Resigned, she gave in and let them escort her to the guardhouse, where she was separated from Breiig, who was immediately taken to the interrogation room.

Guards were not overly violent though it was hard to call their behaviour courtly. Their treatment was harsh, but without pointless violence. They limited themselves to routine jabs and kicks, served to all arrestees alike. Besides, they did not rape her right there at the guardhouse, which could even be considered a unique sign of respect. On the other hand, perhaps they felt that they will have their chances later because it looked like she would have to spend some time in custody. For a start, she was to soften overnight in an extraction cell. After a brief conversation with a clerk, she was escorted to an oubliette, which smelled horrible, but at least it was dry. There, to her considerable astonishment, she met the captain of the ship, aboard which she sailed in. Kristoff was sitting against the wall and bluntly gaped at a small barred window placed level to a side street, or rather, in fact, an alley, where all the impurities from the headquarters of the municipal guard landed. Seeing the composter by the window, the agent understood the pervasive stench.

They were both chained to the wall by their ankles and wrists, but the chains were long enough to allow each of them a few steps. The first few attempts of accosting the smuggler failed. The captain ignored any communication attempts made by Iskandriel. Finally, when she knelt beside him and began to shake his arm, he sprang up and looking at her with hateful eyes, croaked out with constrained fury.

- Can you explain to me why a lame-brained copper took over my own ship and enforced an arrest on me, young lady?

- Um... I was also taken into custody, was I not? Besides, why are you so sure it was my fault you were brought here? Was I the one smuggling illicit goods?

- I have done my share of dark deeds, but I have never stuck my nose in political affairs. And my ship was interned for anti-state activity, and not for smuggling. Had the you told me we were sailing on a secret mission, I would've given you some advice and offered my help.

- I can handle myself. - She stood over Kristoff rubbing her sore wrists freed from the chains. The captain looked dumbfounded at the empty shackles lying beside her. The girl impressed him, but he did not lose his cold blood. Knowing in the face of new evidence, their conversation had evolved into negotiations that were likely to have a key significance for his future existence.

- Then save yourself on your own and while you're at it, find another fool for a captain, because you will not sail out of Smiteverden on my ship.

- Okay, I give you that. What do you want in return?

- The truth.

- Sorry, but that I can not offer.

- Well, that's just bloody perfect, isn't it? I wonder how the lady plans to escape. The northern path is not really an option for her, is it? Otherwise, you would try to get in here that way as well.