The Radiant War

Chapter 18b

     “And how are we today?” asked Benjamin with a benevolent smile.

     Malone jerked at the manacles on his wrists. His hands weren’t behind his back this time, they must be confident that escape was impossible. He tried to think of a way he could take advantage of that, but nothing came to him. “Fine,’ he said cheerfully. “Never been better. Thanks for asking.”

     Benjamin smiled. They were sitting across the table in the crockery room, the same as always. A butler was placing a steaming teapot and two small porcelain cups on the table, a look of inscrutable calm on his face. It wasn't the man Malone had whacked on the head the day he’d been captured, he noted. He hadn’t seen him since that day, in fact. He hoped it was because his benevolent employer had given him a few days off while he recovered, but part of him worried that the man might have died from his injuries. Surely, though, if that we’re the case, Benjamin would have mentioned it, just to increase his torment. Malone was afraid to ask, just in case.

     The nobleman was wearing casual clothes this time. A green velvet jacket over a white shirt and with skin tight breeches covering his legs. Malone, as before, wore nothing. Benjamin looked at the bandages on his arm. “And how are your injuries healing?” he asked.

     “Coming along,” replied the former batman. In fact, the torn skin was healing a lot faster than he'd expected it to. He'd been injured plenty of times before, while with the Brigadier, so he had a pretty good idea how long deep lacerations should take to heal, and his injuries were well ahead of schedule. They also weren't infected. He hadn't worried about that until recently, because he hadn’t expected to live long enough for it to matter. The dogs had bitten him through his jacket sleeves, he remembered. The fabric must have wiped the dog’s teeth clean before they could reach his skin.

     He looked down at the bandages that still covered his arm. Maybe the injuries hadn't been as bad as he'd thought they’d been, he thought, except they had been. He knew exactly how badly the dogs had hurt him. So what was going on? He wasn't going to show uncertainty and confusion in front of this man, though, so he kept the smile on his face as if everything was perfect in his world. “And you?” he asked. “Is all well with you?”

     “Everything is very well indeed,” replied Benjamin. “I'm glad we can have these nice, civilised discussions. It would be a shame if things got unpleasant between us.”

     “If things had been different, we might have been friends,” said Malone, continuing the banter.

     “Precisely,” agreed Benjamin with delight. He picked up the teacup and poured a cup, which he then pushed over to his prisoner. “Do you take sugar?” he asked.

     “One lump please.” The nobleman picked up a sugar cube with a pair of silver tongs and dropped it into Malone's cup. Malone reached over with his manacled hands, picked up the silver spoon and stirred the tea. Then he picked up the cup and took a sip from it. “Very good,” he said.

     “Corwellian. Very expensive. I only share it with very special guests.”

     “I'm flattered. I've got nothing left to tell you, you know. I've told you everything.”

     “Yes, I know.”

     “I was just wondering why I was still alive. I broke into your house, killed your dogs, injured your men. All in an attempt to kill you. I thought you would have killed me and dumped my body somewhere by now.”

     “I abhor waste. I think you can still be useful to me.”

     “If you’re expecting someone to try to rescue me, someone you can lure into a trap, I'm afraid you’re going to be disappointed. Nobody's going to come for me. No-one even knows I'm here.”