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place. He crossed the room and unlocked a door. Bardon and N Rae started to follow him.
Bortenmiffgaten held up a grubby hand stained with tobacco juice.
 Not yet, he said.  I m just getting another key.
He disappeared behind the door. They listened as several things opened and shut.
Drawers? Cabinets? More doors? Bardon wished he could see.
After more rattling around in the room behind the partially closed door, Bortenmiffgaten returned, jingling
a key ring the size of a dinner plate. Two keys swung from the rusty metal hoop.
 This way. He gestured for them to follow him down a flight of stairs. At the bottom he turned right. He
jumped to snatch a torch from the wall. As he passed unlit torches, he gave a little leap and swiped his
burning one across the next dark stick. Instantly, a flame burst forth.
This underground hallway was cleaner and smelled better than the jailer s office.
Bardon sniffed the damp but pleasant air. Someone else must be in charge of this area.
The hall branched off several times, but the tumanhofer kept walking. The underground path ended in a
room with one door in front of them. A heavy padlock hung from a metal latch.
Bortenmiffgaten stopped and looked up at them, a smile on his face. In the flickering flame, Bardon
thought the flash of yellowed teeth looked evil.
 I ll let you in, said the jailer,  but you have to leave your boots, coats, and that basket out here. Can t
have you carrying in weapons.
N Rae twisted her face as she slipped out of her shoes and placed her folded shawl atop them. Her toes
wriggled against the cold flooring. Bardon left his sword, boots, tunic, and knife. He plucked his bag of
coins out of the tunic to carry with him. Although the jailer had shown goodwill in admitting them, Bardon
doubted the tumanhofer would be able to resist the temptation of an unguarded purse.
 You got food in that basket? Bortenmiffgaten asked, licking his lips.
 No, whispered N Rae.
The jailer frowned.  What then?
 A doll.
 A doll? He stomped over.  Let me see.
N Rae slowly undid the little cord that held the lid shut and opened the basket.
Bortenmiffgaten looked inside and snarled.  A lot of fancy stuff for a rag doll. He headed for the door
with his key in his hand.  Leave it here.
N Rae sighed and carefully put the basket next to her shoes and shawl. She smiled tentatively at Bardon.
He glanced at the jailer, relieved that the man had his back to them.
This is absurd. N Rae practically shouts she is lying about the doll with her sigh of relief. The
jailer is dishonest. Despite his sudden change of heart, I don t trust him. He has a hundred keys,
and I could have bashed him on the head at anytime. I still could and instigate a jailbreak. I must
get Granny Kye out of this place. I m tempted to tie up Bortenmiffgaten in his own cell and leave
him there. But have I ever seen Sir Dar circumvent the law? No. How frustrating!
The door creaked open. Inside, not one but three cells banked the walls. Women occupied them all,
Granny Kye in the middle one.
N Rae rushed in and flung herself against the bars making up the wall between her and her grandmother.
 Oh, it s like being in a cage! she cried.
Bardon stopped at the door and bent to whisper to the jailer. He allowed a growl to underscore his
words, a trick he had learned from the meech dragon Regidor.  If any of our things are missing when we
come out, I will have to retrieve them from your pockets, since there are no other pockets to search.
 Shh! Shh! Granny Kye hushed a wailing N Rae.  You ll wake the children. She sat on the floor with
several urchins around her. One slept in her lap. Another rested his head on her knee.
 Are you all right? whispered N Rae.
 Oh yes. Dinner was a bit sparse and underseasoned but adequate.
 What did you steal, Grandmother? N Rae sounded curious and not in the least bit condemning.
 The children were afraid to take the food from the forager bin. Not a very tidy forager bin at all, but
holding plenty of good vegetables and fruits. A few bits of bread and pastries, too.
 So you took them and passed them out?
 Yes, and the owner of the produce stall came yelling and fussing. Said it wasn t a forage bin at all but his
garbage, and he sold it each day to a pig farmer& and I was stealing. Granny Kye patted a child who
stirred.  Imagine that, N Rae. Apparently, they don t follow Paladin s edict to feed the poor in this
district. The constable told me no one sets out food for the orphans.
Bardon shifted in the doorway. He d been listening but also keeping an eye on the jailer. He glanced at
the ragged group of children and counted. Six. He d have to get them out of jail, as well.  Will you be all
right for the night, Granny Kye? Do you need more food? Fresh water? Blankets?
 Blankets would be nice. The floor is clean, but hard. Quite a nice jail, in fact. The women workers who
were here earlier in the day were a nice lot, proud of their work and cheerful. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]