Inky stinky spider
Climbed up the spout
Drank some apple cider
and ended up knocked out!



Peitr’s face was puffy.

The torturer had given

it a good going

over. He wept however.

He had broken relatively

easy, so the torturer

felt. Real easy. But

then that’s their problem:

all that growth spurt

left little room for

anything else, especially fortitude.

Oh, sure, he had

acted stoic at the

start but that only

added to the fun.

It was the thumbscrews

that probably saw a

crack. By the time

of the water torture,

he was blubbering like

a babe. “No, no!

No more. I’ll tell

you what you want

to know. Please! Please!”

After a while you

get used to their

screams of pain and

howls when something snaps

or is extracted. But

for the life of

him, he couldn’t stand

it when they broke.

All he wanted to

do was smash their

pathetic faces. Didn’t matter

to him, young or old,

men, women and children.

Once they start whining

and crying, he would

snap himself. While one

ran to tell Boss,

he slipped a couple

stomach punches into the

boy’s stomach causing retching.

“Well, what does the

boy have to say?”

The gaoler quickly spun

about. Boss Thormo was

standing there before him.

“Uh, Boss. He says

he knows where their

homebase is. That right!”

he quickly said as

he slammed the groaning

body hanging from the

chains. Poor Peitr moaned.

Thormo approached and listened.

The boy’s mouth moved

but the Guild Master

could not hear. He

stepped closer and propped

an ear. Again the

mouth moved. Stepping back,

Boss Thormo left the

chamber without another word.

The gaoler looked back

at the boy and

then slowly approached him

collecting a large pair

of pliers. He smiled.




Jhel stole along the

corridor, listening keenly for

any sound out of

what was considered normal

for this place. She

ignored the ache in

her head as she

made the short journey

to the end where

there was a large

door barring further progress.

She tested the lock

and it easily gave

way to her skill.

The new space was

empty. In fact, the

whole area seemed empty

apart from the inhabitants

of the many cells.

She was about to

return when she heard

some voices coming towards

her. She stepped into

one of the many

alcoves and slowed her

breathing. It was a

technique she’d learned from

Ol’ Seena. “Calm mind

sees far.” The voices

came closer. Then stopped.

“Thormo, this has gotten

out of hand. If

you cannot retrieve the

gold, then we will

have to send our

own to do so.

And that will cost

you even more,” said

one voice which she

did not recognize. ” But,

sir, we are trying.

But Delog is proving

elusive.  He has it

but we don’t know

which of his many

locations he has the

gold. I keep losing…”

“Are you now giving

excuses for your failure

Thormolon? My masters do

not expect excuses but

results. I will despatch

my Watcher to assist.”

“But I need time.

That’s all. Time. If…”

“If I gave you

time like you give

me excuses, Thormalon, then

we’d both be rich

and dead. No. I

have wasted far too

much time believing you

would deliver. My masters

thought to entrust you

which is a luxury

I will report on

my return. Now

I must prepare for

my journey.” The sound

of retreating feet echoed

somehow. Jhel listened intently.

“Boss, what are you

going to do now?”

“Now! What do you

think, Ufa. I just

have to accept his

decision. Have any of

our scouts returned

yet?” “Some have, Master.

We’re still waiting on

the rest. But word

is that some of

them won’t be returning

any time soon. Do

you want me to

send more teams out?”

“Of course, send out

as many as possible.

We need to find

that gold before the

Watcher. If she gets

there first, then we

will all be in

trouble.” There was a

slapping sound, as if

a crop was pelting

something solid yet soft.

“Damn that Delog. I

should have known he

would double-cross me.

The brute was always

going his own way.”

“I never knew his

holdings were extensive. Some

of the locations were

complete surprises to us,”

Ufa said. “Which is

fine,” Thormo said. “Now I

have a better idea

what he has and

will lose once we

catch up with him.

Now, what about our

latest guests? I hope

they’re finding their new

home to their liking?”

Ufa tittered. “They’re settling

in fine. I’ve put

them all together in

the one cell. It’s

a little cramped but

they’re small enough to

fit in. Do you

wish to see them?”

“No, let them rot

in their new home

for the moment. Make

sure they change the

old locks for the

new ones. I wouldn’t

want them to escape

from me like their

former comrade Haidley had.

I wonder what he’d

say if he knew

what’s left of his

comrades are rotting right

next door.” That announcement

brought both men to

bouts of laughter that

sounded booming in that

torchlit corridor. Then it

died down as their

steps gradually died away.

Jhel absorbed all she’d

heard. Haidley was alive?

New locks? Suddenly she

jerked into life and

quietly thanked her former

clan and den mother.



Haidley could hear voices

outside his cell. But

his ears were ringing in

and out so he

only caught who was

speaking. Fat pig! The

picture of Thormo seemed

to inflame him awake.

Keeping focus on the

chant inside his head,

he began to rock

back and forth.

Fat pig! Fat pig!

He felt terrible but

somehow elated at this

small victory. His enemy

was just within hearing;

the voice seemed to

rouse some dormant hatred,

hatred he thought had

died. But now it

awoke. It would not

die a second time.


© 2017 L. Tafa




Author: b20f08

I enjoy solo wargaming and writing. The first caters to the boy that never grew up; the latter satisfies a deep desire to communicate. Cheers.

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