Table of Contents – (spoilers)
Peep awoke feeling like a princess indeed. She had spent the night in a room for nobles (albeit a cell for them), with one of her enemies in the dungeon below, set to be burned to death in execution for his transgressions against her and others.
The room had been quite comfortable. Apart from the one wooden wall that separated it from the stairs and landing, it was circular and occupied the whole floor of the tower. There were three slit windows that were too narrow for even Peep to squeeze through (should she have wanted to). These could be shuttered, although Peep kept them open to allow the pleasant breeze through the room. There was a big four-poster bed, a dining table with good chairs, a desk, and two comfortable chairs at a coffee table in front of a fireplace. Behind a screen there was a commode and a copper bathtub.
Without anyone in residence, the bed did not have any bedding, which seemed to be stored in trunks underneath it. With no desire to sleep in bedding in which Sheriff Waters may have engaged in his abuse of power with his victims, Peep had simply spread her own bedroll out on the bare bedframe. It had been perfectly comfortable for her sensibilities.
Both Peep and Choke had turned in early, so it was not quite dawn when Peep awoke. She lay in bed for a while, listening to the town awaken outside. The men heading to their jobs at the freight yard, lumber yards, and sawmills stopped at the crossroads to gossip and comment on the burning Wheel and what it meant.
Word had spread that the event would take place that morning. As to who was going to be burned, there was some conjecture. A teamster with a booming voice proclaimed with authority that it was Alan “the Chisel” Mason that was to be executed. He had it on good authority from Bristlehump teamsters that the Pekot Bunch had caught the Chisel out past Bristlehump and dragged him back in the dead of night for the Father to burn. Another man disagreed, citing soldiers’ rumors that Billy had been arrested at the tower yesterday morning. Another supposed that Sheriff Waters was the likely target. Arguing and shouting over these differing theories ensued. As is usual with this sort of men, the last man shouting was the winner of the debate, so Asshole Teamster’s erroneous notion wound up being the consensus of the group.
Interestingly for Peep, no mention was made of Sneed in any of this debate. As well, the tone with which the men spoke of her and her crew was significant. It was as though the Pekot Bunch were a force of nature, like a thunderstorm or a wildfire. It was as though doom was inevitable for those that were foolish enough to trifle with them.
The sound of Choke moving downstairs from the roof finally roused Peep, who had only to roll up her bedroll before kitting up.
Downstairs, Srecko was sleeping soundly in Billy’s bed, oblivious to the noise Pinch was making stoking up the stove to get breakfast going. Father Morrenthall’s torturer did manage to wake up, however, just in time to partake of the gruel and fresh-brewed stugroot Pinch provided. Having eaten, Srecko went back down into the dungeon to spend some time with Billy.
“What time is this show meant to get going?” Peep asked the room at large with her mouth full.
“Father Morrenthall said early morning, so I’m thinking pretty soon,” Choke answered.
Sure enough, by the time Pinch and Choke had finished serving breakfast to the five prisoners, there was a sharp knock on the tower’s door. Knuckle checked out the peephole before letting Father Morrenthall in.
Just as the day before, the cleric of the Knights of the Holy Sword was outfitted in his chainmail armor with the cassocked robes overtop. His fine, steel longsword was on his hip and he carried his helmet under his arm.
“Is everything well?” he asked.
“Yes, Father. Although, none of us has been downstairs to check on Billy. Srecko has been spending quite a bit of time alone with him,” Choke said.
“Very good. I am sure all is well, then. Now,” Father Morrenthall said as he set his helmet down on the table and clapped his hands at the five prisoners in the big cage, “what are we to do with you fellows?”
The men had already finished gobbling their gruel. They stood up smartly, with the man who had been their spokesman previously standing just a little out in front.
“Which of you two was it that were causing a disturbance in a den of iniquity?” Father Morrenthall asked, stepping closer to the bars of the cage.
Two of the men identified themselves. They were both dressed more as townsfolk than the other three, who seemed to be wilderness types.
“Come forward. Let me have a look at you,” Father Morrenthall said. “Are the two of you town residents?”
“Yes, Father,” one of them said.
“You have jobs here in town?”
“Well, I dunno now, Father. Since I been locked up the whole day yesterday and missed work like I did. But I work at the sawmill,” the same fellow said.
“And you?” Father Morrenthall asked the other.
“I’m a butcher’s assistant, down the way.”
“And why were you locked up?”
“We were fighting,” the sawmill worker answered.
“Yes. And where were you doing so?”
“In a hoorhouse,” he said.
“Indeed. And you?” Father Morrenthall asked the butcher’s assistant.
“Well, yeah. Same,” the man snarked.
“Indeed. I have not seen either of you in church. I suppose that should be of no surprise. Have you any shame?” Father Morrenthall asked them both.
The sawmill worker nodded.
The butcher’s assistance scowled back at Father Morrenthall.
“You have something on your mind, man?” Father Morrenthall asked him.
“Look. I don’t reckon that I’m obliged to go to church. And a full day in the clink here over one little scrap seems a bit much, don’t ye think?” the man snapped.
“Indeed. Your case should have been resolved yesterday morning. But things are in transition here and other matters took precedence. What is your name, man?”
The man continued to scowl at Father Morrenthall in silence, but eventually broke down under the priest’s steady gaze.
“Merv,” he finally said.
“And whose assistant, are you?”
“Standish.”
“Ah. Standish the butcher. Now there is someone I do see in church. Although his wife and children a touch more regularly, truth be known. Now, Merv, may I take it that you do not wish to repent of your sins to me?” Father Morrenthall asked.
“For what? Getting in a fight?” Merv bristled.
At this, the other prisoners and the Pekot Squad all goggled at Merv in disbelief at his foolish insolence.
“The fight is the sum total of your sin, is it?” Father Morrenthall asked with his most ominous mildness.
“So what if it aint? What’s that to do with me getting the hell outta here?”
“I suppose that is something we shall have to explore at our leisure. You may sit down at the back of the cage now, Merv. I shall deal with the others first.”
“What? No! Ye got no fuckin right to keep me here! None! Ye let me the hell outta here! Now!” Merv bellowed, stepping right up to the cage door to spew spittle towards Father Morrenthall.
The other four prisoners had now backed away as far as they could get from Merv in the cage. Knuckle pulled Billy’s cudgel from his belt and nudged Pinch, who had taken possession of the cage’s key the night before.
Father Morrenthall stared calmly at Merv, who continued to glare at him.
“What a remarkable person you are, Merv!” Father Morrenthall finally exclaimed. “I see that I shall have to devote even more attention upon you than I had at first thought. So, we shall now put you in a private room upstairs to wait until I have sufficient time to do that. Sergeants: let’s have him out of there and into his new accomodations, shall we?”
Pinch nodded curtly as he hopped to unlock the cage door. Knuckle grinned malevolently as he squared up, ready to come through with the stout cudgel in hand.
Merv, now realizing, finally, that his bluff of bluster had deeply aggravated his woes, blanched as his attention switched to Knuckle.
“Woah! Hold on! No! Listen, I aint being a problem here, I just don’t like being told what to do by them that don’t got no cause to do it! Ye aint got—” Merv started, backing away from the cage door as Pinch opened it for Knuckle.
“Shut up!” shouted Father Morrenthall. “Sergeant: get him upstairs in a cell immediately.”
“Yes, sir!” Knuckle barked cheerfully as he closed on the prisoner.
Merv took a second to look around wild-eyed for some route of escape, before throwing a wild haymaker at Knuckle’s head.
Knuckle had no problem handling this. He parried the punch with an upward flick of the cudgel into the middle of Merv’s forearm. With Merv still moving forward, Knuckle pivoted to grab the shoulder of his tunic and pull him off-balance to smash him face-first into the cage next to the door. As Merv bounced off, Knuckle cracked the back of his knee with the cudgel to put him down. Then he gave him a few good thumps on the back for good measure before dragging him out of the cage. Pinch closed and locked the door.
Merv was bleeding from his face where it had gone into the bars, and he was largely insensible as Knuckle and Pinch dragged him upstairs to one of the dark cells on the second floor.
“Well, now, what an unpleasant fellow he is,” Father Morrenthall said when they had gone. “Quite possibly some manner of lunatic with a devil or demon pulling his strings. Be that as it may, a day or two in the dark without food or water will no doubt amend his attitude somewhat. Now, you there: the sawmill fellow who was fighting with him. Come here.”
The man hopped to the front of the cage to stand before Father Morrenthall with his hands clenched in front of him and his head bowed.
“What is your name, man?”
“William, Father.”
“William. Very good. Now, I suppose that this Merv fellow was similarly belligerent when the two of you fought, yes?”
“Yes he was, Father. Right ornery, he was. I’m not one to engage in violence, ye know, but he left me little choice.”
“I have no doubt. Be that as it may: you were somewhere you ought not to have been, attempting to do things you ought not to be doing. And I do not suppose that it was your first time to frequent such a place, was it?”
“The hoorhouse, ye mean, Father? No, it weren’t. I’m sorry,” William said, the very picture of contrition.
“Are you?” Father Morrenthall asked, his tone friendly.
“Am I what, Father?”
“Are you sorry? Truly? Are you prepared to repent of it?”
“Uhhhhh… yes, Father? I suppose so. I mean, I’ll do as ye say.”
“Well, that is an excellent attitude to initiate turning over a new leaf, William. Sergeant, please open the door to let William out,” Father Morrenthall said to Pinch, who has since come back downstairs with Knuckle.
Pinch unlocked the door for William, who bobbed about obsequiously to everyone as he came out. Father Morrenthall took him by the elbow over to the tower’s main door.
“Now, William, I am going to let you go. But there are some things I would like for you to do for me now. Consider them the beginning of your penance. Will you do as I ask?”
“Yes! Of course, Father! I will!”
“Good man. As you may have gathered, we are shortly going to have a public execution at the crossroads here. The jailer Billy is going to be burned by Stron in order to be cleansed of his many sins. I expect to see you, William, front and center in the crowd. Go now and claim a good spot. And tell those around you what you now know: that the wages of sin are only ever thus for sinners. Sooner or later. Will you do that, William?”
“Yes, Father!”
“Good. Then, I want you to go and find the butcher Standish. Tell him that I have his man, Merv, in custody and would appreciate a word about him. At Standish’s leisure, of course. If he could seek me out at the church, I would most appreciate it. Can you give him this message?”
“Of course, Father!”
“Good. Then, you are free to return to your work and your life. But, as you do, I would ask you to reflect upon the sins of your past. Think hard on them. Meditate upon your wickedness. And then, when you feel you have a good measure of yourself, I ask you to seek me out at the church. And then, you may confess your sins to me so that you may repent of them and unburden yourself. That is all. Will you do these things for me, William?”
“Yes, of course I will, Father! Thank you!”
“Think nothing of it. You may go now. May Stron the Son and Altas the Father bless you in their ways.”
With this, Father Morrenthall traced the Wheel over William’s head before unbolting and opening the tower door for him. As William scampered out of there as though the very fires of hell were at his heels, the sound of a large number of people milling around in the crossroads nearby was audible. Father Morrenthall shut and bolted the door on the hubbub outside.
“Now. You three. What was your story again?” Father Morrenthall asked the remaining prisoners as he again approached the cage.
The men all hopped to attention. “Father. We were arrested by soldiers for vagrancy on account of we didn’t want to enlist in the Baron’s army, and the officer said we aint gainfully employed otherwise,” their spokesman said.
“It is the King’s army, not the Baron’s, but I take your meaning. And are you?” Father Morrenthall asked.
“Are we what, Father?”
“Otherwise gainfully employed.”
“I suppose that depends on a person’s perspective, Father. I would reckon my two mates here are. Me: not so much, I suppose.”
Father Morrenthall cracked a smile at this. “What is your name, man?” he asked.
“Dominic, Father.”
“And all three of you are creatures of the woods, I suppose, Dominic?” Father Morrenthall asked.
“Yes, Father. You know, we’re trappers and hunters and the like. From out past Didsbury way.”
“And why is it you would say that your mates are gainfully employed whereas you are not, Dominic?”
“Well, Father, that’s because the two of them are family men and I aint. And on account of that, they focus up a bit more on work and toil than I do. Or, rather, Father, their good wives see to it that they do.”
“And you, Dominic, you have never felt the need to take a wife?” Father Morrenthall asked, making no attempt to hide that he was clearly enjoying his interview with this fellow.
“No. Don’t reckon I did, Father. Never seemed worth the bother, ye know. All that extra work, ye see.”
“I understand. And what brought the three of you to Spitzer, Dominic?”
“Well, Father, we came to town to sell our winter pelts, with us being mostly trappers, and all.”
“And you did sell them?” Father Morrenthall asked, his tone sharpening somewhat.
“Yes, Father, we did.”
“So then you are in funds. Which would mean that you are not vagrants.”
Dominic sucked air through his teeth in a hiss as he exchanged a look with his two compatriots. All three of them looked on edge again, if not actually frightened.
“What is it?” Father Morrenthall asked. “Did you lose your money at gaming and whoring? Were you robbed?”
“Well, Father, it’s like this: we aint in funds no more. And we didn’t lose them on account of any of our foolishness or wickedness,” Dominic said.
“So you were robbed, then,” Father Morrenthall said.
“I suppose that’s also a matter of a person’s perspective, Father. And before ye press me on it, I’d just like say that I don’t reckon folk like us get very far along in life by naming names on their betters, now do they, Father?”
Father Morrenthall smiled again before saying, “they might do if their betters’ better asks.”
“Or, pardon me saying, Father, their life gets truncated either way. It may just be a matter of a person picking their poison.”
Father Morrenthall laughed at this. “Well, now, Dominic! Truncated, you say! That is a word I would not have expected to hear in this place.”
“I have my letters, Father. I can read,” Dominic said proudly.
“Do you now? Who taught you to do that?”
“My father, Father. I even have a book or three to wile away the winters with.”
“How old are you, Dominic?”
“I reckon I’m about thirty, Father.”
“And you are a hunter and a trapper, you say.”
“Yes, Father.”
“And are you any good at it?”
“I reckon I am, Father. Otherwise, I’d have to spend too much time getting it done with,” Dominic answered with a twinkle in his eye, confident that the Father was happy buying what he was selling.
“Understood. Now, Dominic, was it the Sheriff, or a soldier, that robbed you three of your money? I need to know.”
Dominic hesitated just a second before deciding to pick his poison:
“Reckon it was a sergeant, technically, Father.”
“And that was in town here?”
“Yeah. We were having us a bit of night before heading out back home, and got caught up in their dragnet looking for new soldiers for the King, I suppose.”
“And a sergeant took your money.”
“Well, when we told them that we weren’t gonna enlist, we got drug in front of an officer. Then the officer said that if we didn’t, he’d arrest us for vagrancy and nail our ears to a board at the crossroads. We said that we were in funds, so that this vagrancy business can’t be pinned to us as easily as all that. So, then that officer asked us: what funds might those be? And then he had his sergeant lift our purses for him and locked us up here.”
“And this officer: was he a tall handsome fellow, or a more sturdy-looking man with a nasty aspect to him?” Father Morrenthall asked.
“The thicker, surly sort of officer, I reckon, Father.”
“That would be Lieutenant Hamon.”
“Well, you’re the one telling me that, Father. To tell ye the truth, I don’t reckon we would care to know it if we were free to choose our own selves. With all respect to you and your station as Magistrate here in Spitzer, of course, Father,” Dominic said, tugging his forelock.
“Of course,” Father Morrenthall said, his attention drifting into private thought as he did. He looked pensively into a middle distance for a while then, before firming back up to focus on his interview of Dominic:
“You say you three hail from out past Didsbury. By that you mean that you are in the wilds there; beholden to none.”
“That’s so, Father.”
“So you pay no rent. You are no lord or landowner’s tenants.”
“That’s so, Father.”
“I have respect for that, Dominic. I do. I have known some good, Stronian people from such circumstances,” Father Morrenthall said earnestly. “However, for many in authority, folk such as yourselves are regarded as nothing better than bandits at the best of times. You understand this all too well, I expect.”
“That we do, Father.”
“One cannot steal from a bandit, you understand. Particularly not if one is an officer of the Royal Bitina Army. And if you were to press your claim of theft against Lieutenant Hamon, legitimate as it most likely would be, he would simply claim to have some manner of evidence of your banditry. If even just a hunch. You understand this as well, I am sure, Dominic.”
“I do, Father. And, if I may: I’d just as soon not have a spear shoved up my ass by soldiers at their earliest convenience. So I think we’ll be letting the matter be, if it’s all the same to you, Father.”
“I quite understand. However, in the spirit of the honesty I feel we have been sharing, I feel I should tell you that if I were so inclined, I certainly could root out the truth of the incident and return much of your property to you. However, I am not inclined to do so.”
Father Morrenthall let this statement stand between them for a long moment. Dominic chose not to say anything, so Father Morrenthall nodded and continued:
“I have no doubt that injustice was served to all three of you. However, let me tell you: there is a greater evil than mere injustice coming here for all of us. It shall be upon us soon. And we all have our part to play. So, tell me Dominic: why was it that you felt justified in your refusal to join the King’s army?”
“Well, it’s like ye said, Father, we’re no lord’s tenants. We’re beholden to none. Pardon me, Father, but to our way of thinking, they’ve got no right to compel service from us.”
“Well, Dominic, in this you are quite wrong. We have every right to compel service of you. Your reasoning for refusal is only that. It is not justification. You may live free as the birds out in your wilderness, but you came here, to civilization, to partake of its benefits. You exchanged your goods for the King’s coin under the safety of his law, and have done so for years, have you not? You three are not so independent as you might like to think. For you rely upon your fellow man and his society to support your existence of freedom. Do you not?”
“Well, Father, I don’t suppose I’ve ever thought about it that way,” Dominic said, his twinkle fast fading.
“And now that you have?” Father Morrenthall asked with his menacing mildness.
“Well, I guess that ye have the right end of the stick on this, Father.”
Father Morrenthall laughed. “Yes, indeed I do, Dominic. So, now that our doom approaches and the society you have been exploiting needs your assistance, who are you to refuse that call?”
Dominic held his tongue as long as he could before trying a different tack:
“I understand that, Father. But Lenny and Bev here have families to care for back home. They’re needed.”
“I did not ask you about them, Dominic. I asked about you. By what justification do you refuse military service in the King’s army?”
“Well, then, I suppose I don’t have any,” Dominic said, his twinkle snuffed.
“Exactly. So, let me tell all three of you: I do not much care that you were robbed by Lieutenant Hamon. For, at the least, he is serving his King, his country, and his fellow man in military service. Of course, were these times of peace, I would see him punished for his transgressions. But these are not times of peace. Far from it. So, I am inclined to support Lieutenant Hamon in his judgement of you. I may just hang all three of you from the gibbet outside, with signs of ‘coward’ around your necks. What say you to that?” Father Morrenthall asked all three of the men.
Dominic stood mute, as did one of his mates. The other took up the slack:
“Please, Father! Please! We have wives and little ones. Without us, they are out in the wild, all alone!”
“Just as you left them, then. That is hardly on me, is it?” Father Morrenthall said. He waited a long moment for someone to answer. None did, so he continued:
“However, I am inclined to be merciful. And not for its own sake, either. Lieutenant Pekot here has need of good men in his unit. They are to defend the town of Bristlehump. I would have you join them. So, Dominic, if you and one of your fellows do so, then I will allow the other to return to your homes to fetch your families.”
“And what if we refuse, Father?” Dominic asked.
“Then I shall hang you, Dominic, as a coward, and nail your friends’ ears to the gibbet. Then they can go on about their lives. However, without gear and mounts, I do not like their odds of getting back home in time to die with their families. For die they surely all will when the impending flood of evil issues forth. Understand that releasing you to go back home free as birds would be no kindness. For alone as you are, you would all surely die.”
“Uhhhmm… okay. I guess we have to take yar word for that, Father. So who’s the lieutenant we’re meant to be joining here?” Dominic asked.
“Lieutenant Pekot,” Father Morrenthall said, gesturing Choke’s way, who nodded curtly.
“Oh. Okay,” Dominic said, looking like he might throw up. “And, uhhh… ye mentioned something about horses and gear, Father? I mean, we were pretty well geared up before we were, ye know, transformed into vagrants. Are we meant to be joining up with just the clothes on our back?”
“Well, now, that is the question isn’t it? I think that, given the circumstances, we should be able to arrange something better than that for you. Although, your exact gear is most likely long gone, I’m afraid,” Father Morrenthall said.
“Well, that’s not exactly true, Father. Most of our gear is just there under the stairs, actually,” Dominic said, pointing to several bundles that had been stuffed there. “Now, as to our ponies and mule: I don’t know, Father.”
“Ah. Three ponies and one mule, I am assuming?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Very good. We shall see what we can do. Assuming, of course, that you three decide to enlist in the King’s army, as you should. Will you do so?” Father Morrenthall asked.
Dominic shrugged and nodded before looking to his two mates. One of them piped up:
“Now, let us just be clear about this all, Father. All three of us are meant to be signing up? I thought it was just Dom, and then me or Lenny.”
“No. All three. But I will allow you or Lenny to return to your homes to fetch your families. They can join you in Bristlehump. I may suppose your name is Bev, is it?” Father Morrenthall asked.
“Yes. It is, Father.”
“Good. So that is the deal. You must decide now, since I have more pressing matters to attend to, as you no doubt have surmised.”
“Okay, Father. But I just wanna be real clear: we’re gonna be soldiers now, and our families become camp followers?”
“Yes, that is the usual way of it. Unless you have means to send them south to greater safety. That is your choice, of course. Now, I think I have had enough of explaining the obvious to you. Make your choice,” Father Morrenthall said sharply.
“Well, it aint like ye’ve given us much a choice now is it, Father?” Bev said.
“That may be. But your choice it is. Now make it.”
“Well, okay then. We’re in the army now I guess,” Bev said.
“Very good. Sergeant, please let these men out of the cage so that they may take their oath freely,” Father Morrenthall said, stepping back from the cage to allow Pinch to do just that.
When Dominic, Lenny, and Bev were free, Father Morrenthall raised his hand high.
“Kneel,” he commanded. All three did.
“Under the eyes of our Lord Stron and his holy Father, Altas, do you, Dominic, Bev, and Lenny swear fealty to his Royal Majesty, King Rufus III? Do you swear to follow the lawful orders of your commanding officers? Do you swear to protect His Majesty, the King’s person, properties, and interests against all enemies?”
All three men did so swear.
“As magistrate of Spitzer, I have so heard your oath. May it be upon your immortal soul should you break it. Rise now, soldiers of the the Royal Bitina Army, and fall in behind your officer, Lieutenant Pekot.”
The three men stood up and shuffled around awkwardly, unsure of how to do this, until Knuckle jabbed them into line with his cudgel.
“Now, let us see about securing you soldiers some mounts. Sergeant Nikolas,” Father Morrenthall said to Pinch, “could you go to the stable and fetch us the corporal in charge there? Thank you.”
They all waited in silence while Pinch did that, with Knuckle manning the door. In no time at all, the stables’ corporal was with them.
“There is a really big crowd out there now,” Pinch reported as he returned. “It looks like almost the whole town is out there.”
“Of course. Everyone loves a burning,” Father Morrenthall said. Then he turned to the corporal:
“Now, I am assuming that you are aware that these three men here were arrested for vagrancy by Lieutenant Hamon a few days ago.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Well, it seems to me that the Lieutenant may have been a little overzealous in that pronouncement. Be that as it may, the men have now enlisted in the army, under Lieutenant Pekot. And so they are vagrants no longer. I wish for them to have mounts. I don’t suppose you have any notion of what happened to their original ponies, do you, Corporal?” Father Morrenthall asked mildly.
“Yes, Father. With them slated to be spearmen, or vagrants punished, their animals were seized and sent on up to the fort.”
“I see. Well, I certainly do not want to upset things terribly with the military just now. May I ask, who is your officer, Corporal?”
“Well, it was Lieutenant Hamon, but when Lieutenant Cooper took over town here, his sergeant told me I was to stay here and report to him now, on account of I’m a groom by trade and the stables here are mine.”
“I see. Good for you, man. You must be good at it. Well, it seems that you are just the man to send on this errand. If I could bother you terribly, Corporal, I would like you to go to the fort and have a word with Lieutenant Hamon’s people. Tell them I would very much appreciate the return of these three men’s ponies. Tell them that they can keep the mule as compensation for their trouble. If they fuss about this, tell them to ask the Lieutenant if he would like me to begin a formal investigation into exactly how it was that these men came to be without funds, thus making them vagrants to be arrested. Can you do that for me, Corporal?”
“Uhhh, yes, Father, I suppose I could. Although, they aint gonna like any of that one bit.”
“I quite understand. But I am sure you can make my case to them in such a way as to smooth it out. And, once you have, do feel free to stop by the church on your way back and tell my housekeeper, Mrs Dunn, that I have said to give you a large jug of our wine. The largest she can find. Do you think that would be suitable, Corporal?”
“Yes. Of course, Father!” the corporal said, smartening up sharply.
“Very good. Off you go,” Father Morrenthall said. He let the corporal out the door himself, which he then shut and latched.
Father Morrenthall moved into the kitchen area and checked the big gruel pot. He was clearly pleased that Pinch had made just enough for there to be enough left for his purposes. Father Morrenthall gestured first to the pot, then the table, before pointing at the trap door down into the dungeon.
“This looks very good! I skipped breakfast today, so I think I shall share mine with our sole remaining prisoner. Let’s have Billy up here for breakfast, shall we?”
Muse Vassal 