Menagerie - Martin Day [20]
There was a movement towards the door. A number of guards appeared, and pulled open the heavy door of the cell.
One by one the women filed out, placing coins in a series of outstretched palms. The young women went first, laughing crudely with the guards.
The old woman had bustled towards the front of the queue, cuffing about the head another who was about to protest. Zoe joined the end of the queue, swaying unsteadily on her feet. She watched as one woman tried to reason with the guards, explaining that she had no money, but they were having none of it. She was dragged away, screaming.
Zoe nervously extended her fist of coins towards the line of guards. The one at the front looked down at them closely, and then started to laugh. 'Foreign currency!' he shouted.
The other soldiers started to chuckle. 'Good woman,' the man said to Zoe, 'you do surely know that trade in foreign currency is illegal here? You were very foolish to accept payment in this form, but perhaps the black market in currency is springing up once more.'
Zoe stared at him in uncomprehending silence. The guard took the coins anyway.
'There is a strict fining system for such crimes,' said another guard. 'But it appears you have no money for that, either.'
'But I'm a traveller here,' blurted out Zoe. 'I've got nothing to do with those women —'
'I believe you,' interrupted the first guard. 'I might have asked you to accompany me for the evening, but there's not enough meat on you.' He smiled icily. 'So don't worry, you'll be away from this city by tomorrow morning.'
Zoe felt the second guard pull her arms up sharply behind her back. The first guard shouted after her as she was marched away. 'You'll be sold at the slave market in an hour's time.'
Four
Defrabax was translating an ancient text on deadly gemstones when he heard the unmistakable sound of his door being kicked down.
Quickly pushing his papers into a drawer, he darted towards the front of the house. Commander Zaitabor stood in the centre of a mound of sharp splinters, imperiously instructing his men in their search. His harsh features passed from darkness to light and back again as a suspended lamp twisted above his head. He pretended not to see Defrabax for a moment.
Defrabax snorted and spluttered indignantly, rubbing his eyes for effect. 'What is the meaning of this? I was asleep in the back room and —'
'Defrabax,' said Zaitabor, his eyes colder than the moon-kissed air. 'What a pleasant surprise to find you up at this hour. What mystical designs can so occupy your mind, I wonder?'
'The curfew only applies out there,' said Defrabax, wincing as he heard an axe being applied to a locked box.
A chill wind floated through the doorway, briefly tugging at Zaitabor's cloak. He nodded to the two knights who stood on either side of Defrabax. One pulled Defrabax's shoulders behind him, the other held a slim dagger to his throat. 'You of all people,' said Zaitabor, 'could tell me what would happen if the knife were to slip and graze your throat.'
Defrabax swallowed against the cold metal point.
'What are you looking for?'
Zaitabor made a show of examining the sketches on the wall closely. 'I'm not sure. This is just a routine search, of course. Even good citizens can expect an occasional visitation from the knights.' He tapped a yellow-framed illustration of a nesting rat hawk. 'This is very good.'
'My ward, Cosmae,' said Defrabax. 'He is very talented.'
'Indeed.' Zaitabor looked up as Araboam reported to him.
'No trace of the homunculus, my lord.'
'As is to be expected,' said Zaitabor, returning his gaze to Defrabax once more. 'After all, you do claim not to have one.' He nodded at the two knights. 'Let us return to the castle.'
The knights let go of the old man and pushed