Chapter 5

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A private jail cell is actually a lovely place to think.

I mean, it seems ideal, doesn't it? A small, uncluttered room made up of iron bars and grey stone walls. No lighting aside from the scant illumination provided by the barred window and the two wall-mounted torches, well out of reach. Nothing to distract you.

Spend ten hours in a place like that, and you're bound to do a little pondering.

Of course, most cells were designed with that precise goal in mind. It was a stress test. If you review the circumstances of your predicament long enough, doubts begin to emerge, and your confidence gets shaken. Just about anyone accused of a crime starts second-guessing themselves when locked in a room with nothing but a chair, a chamber pot, and their thoughts.

If only they'd thought to leave me a chair . . .

I'd spent most of my imprisonment lying on the cold stone floor, staring at the grey metal bars criss-crossing the ceiling, going over the various details of my plan, making sure I hadn't forgotten anything.

They'd taken my cane and sword, which I'd expected, and made me empty my pockets, which I'd also expected. They hadn't taken away my cloak or made me remove any of my clothing however, which was what I'd been hoping for.

I rubbed my arms for warmth. It was much chillier in the cell than I'd anticipated, and I'd been provided with neither a cot nor a blanket. I found myself wishing I was still wearing some of those special garments I'd had on earlier, but they were all performing other functions at the moment - various bits of them tucked away, hidden, or otherwise concealed from view inside my cell. All part of the plan, I reminded myself, shivering slightly.

Sometimes I really hate my plans . . .

Still, it could have been worse. The cool morning air was practically begging me to work out a little. Additionally, there appeared to be a couple of large metal rings attached to the ceiling, likely used for chaining prisoners to.

Getting to my feet and crouching slightly, I leaped up and grabbed hold of one of the large, cold metal rings above me. Then I began doing pull-ups.

I'd barely managed six of them when I heard a pair of jailers enter the dimly lit hallway leading to my cell.

"Fourteen-hundred seventy-four, fourteen-hundred seventy-five-" I announced cheerfully, as though too focused on my activities to even register that they'd come in.

They strode down the dark hallway up to the cage that contained me, marching over to the door and into view. I continued doing pull-ups, reciting ridiculously large ascending numbers in a friendly, upbeat tone. Then I caught the lead knight's gaze mid-pull, and smiled as though noticing them for the first time.

"Greetings!" I called out cheerfully. "I'm going for a new record today! Are you here to tell me about lunch?"

Scowling, the lead knight waved to his companion, who stepped away from the cell and inserted a fancy-looking key into the equally fancy-looking lock set into the outside door of my prison.

My cell's entrance was composed of two elaborately constructed doors that were four or so feet apart, and which were braced against one another so they moved in tandem. This was done so that the locking mechanism on the outside door was well out of reach for anyone who was inside the cell. It made sense, really - I wasn't the only Lord who was good with locks. Why stick a master lock-picker in a cell where the lock was right there within reach?

The knight turned his key. The far door swung open, as did the door nearest me.

Letting go of the metal ring, I dropped lightly to the floor and walked through the open hallway-like cell door under the watchful eyes of both knights. Both kept enough distance between me and them to ensure I couldn't pick their pockets, which suggested that they'd heard a few things about me.

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