Boots of Booty | ONC 2023

Part 2

4. Cell

Tash gave up staring through the tiny, barred window set in the cell door and whirled to face Séa. "By the gods, why did they have to strip us?"

Contrary to the rogue's choice of word, the pair wore identical roughspun robes. The primitive garments itched. Tash's covered her well enough, but Séa's hands and bare feet poked out well beyond the hems.

The paladin considered. "If they had been us, we would have."

"Of course! We're professionals." Tash gestured to indicate herself.

Séa's forehead wrinkled and she stared quizzically at Tash in the gloom of the cold cell. The paladin leaned against the warmth-sucking brick wall. If she attempted to stand up straight she would crush her skull, being a handspan taller than the low ceiling. Loose straw, apparently to be construed as a bed, lay scattered upon the cobblestone floor. A stinky hole lurked in the far corner.

The paladin's mystified stare continued. The rogue huffed a jet of air from her nose. "See, castle guards are supposed to be bumbling and stupid. And also poor fighters, so that we professionals can run rings around them."

The paladin's forehead stayed wrinkled. "What's a professional?"

"A person who is paid to be an expert at a particular skill."

Séa blinked owlishly. "Paid?"

Tash groaned. "Cloistered crazy woman. I keep forgetting you never use money, so never mind. I meant that we have skills. We're more like masters than apprentices."

An adoring smile lit Séa's bland features. "Well, you are. You've been lots of places and done lots of things. I just barely graduated from the priory."

Tash answered, "You're a prodigy. Different category." She peered through the cell door window again. "But here comes — oh, help — I think it's a meal."

The pale paladin blanched even whiter.

Outside, a guard jammed a lit torch into an empty bracket, then shoved a metal tray under the door. The few-inch gap between cobblestones and the door's iron frame admitted the tray and two stubby tin cups.

"Slide the things back out when you're done," the female guard said. "If you don't, then you don't eat or drink again until everything's returned. Clear?"

Tash released a pent up flood of verbiage. "Why are we here? Who was killed? This is a total sham. We've only been in the city a day, and we sure didn't kill anybody. We need to speak to a magister, as is proper. This is civilization, not some orc camp. We're citizens. We— Shit, she's gone."

5. Cell

The cell languished in complete darkness much of the time. The torches in the corridor outside sputtered out, but the guards seldom relit them. The pitch black accentuated the pervasive chill of the subterranean prison. They spent the bulk of their time wrapped in each other's embrace, but only secondarily for the sake of romance. The omnipresent chill drove them to share each other's body heat.

Even the loquacious Séa ran out of things to say as time stretched. The reason for their imprisonment provided the most fruitful grist for speculation.

"I guess we have to trust the lawyers," Séa said.

Tash mimicked a retching sound. "I'm not sure they're taking their own ballsucking laws seriously. I have a writ of pardon, remember? The King pardoned all my past crimes, if any, specifically including murder, theft, and assault. And yet, here we are."

"I wonder who was murdered?"

Silence stretched. The cold damp seeped through their skins and into their bones.