Menagerie - Martin Day [29]
We're not asking much for him. Will anyone pay seven coins?'
'It would take seven coins just to add extra locks to your
'ouse to stop him escaping,' whispered Xaelobran.
'I'll give you four and a half,' came a voice from the crowd.
'You couldn't buy a dog for under five,' said the slave trader.
'Granted,' came the reply. 'But four and a half's my offer.'
'I'll give you five and a half,' said someone behind Diseaeda, who yawned in boredom. He scanned the men and women waiting to come forward. It pained him to look out for deformities, to almost expect revulsion, but, as he had said, that was his job. They all seemed quite unremarkable, impressively free of even the slightest disfiguring disease.
His attention was drawn to a young woman who stood to one end of the line. She wouldn't have seemed more out of place if she'd been levitating. Although her fingers were blackened and she looked tired, she was otherwise clean, healthy and clearly not of this city. Underneath the anguish Diseaeda saw a bright, open face, surrounded by a smooth cut of shortish, dark hair. Her nose twitched whenever the man waved his arms too vigorously and the cigar smoke came near.
She had a good figure, although her girlishness was in marked contrast to the huge woman who stood next to her, glowering at the crowd. The young girl wore what appeared to be a pair of short trousers and a colourful, long-sleeved top. The fabric alone was enough to fascinate Diseaeda: its colours glowed like gemstones, yet the material seemed light and flexible.
'Some might consider her skinny,' said Xaelobran, noting the direction of his friend's gaze. 'Nice face, though.'
'I could do with another helper,' said Diseaeda.
'Call it what you like,' said Xaelobran.
'She looks very lost. She's obviously not from around here.'
Xaelobran grunted. 'Looks like she's next.'
The man on the stage paused to light another cigar before pushing the young girl forward. 'What am I bid for this little creature?' he asked.
The Most Holy Place was deep in the bowels of the rock on which the castle sat. The Doctor fancied that he could almost hear the towers above them sonorously grinding down into the dark stone. Certainly the sounds of conversation, the clink of armour, the background hum of chanted meditation, had subsided. Even Himesor had fallen silent, doubtless still wondering if he had made the right decision.
These tunnels had been carved out of rock and elaborately engraved. Despite their impressive structure a soft wind scurried around their feet and up into the vaulted ceiling.
Electric lights had been placed in the ornate holders that had presumably once held burning torches.
The warren of tunnels baffled the Doctor. The carved patterns were in a regular sequence and therefore could not also function as direction or location markers. And yet at each junction Himesor barely paused before pressing on.
A few moments later the Doctor realized what the secret was. At each intersection, Himesor took the tunnel that led down. The Most Holy Place seemed to be as deep under the castle as was possible.
'I'm sorry that no trace can be found of either of your friends,' said Himesor suddenly.
'Perhaps they've already escaped,' said the Doctor.
'They're very resourceful. Anyway, I am grateful to you for trying.'
'I quickly understood, Doctor, that I would get more from you if I asked than if I ordered.'
'Few men in authority have such sense.' The Doctor paused for a moment to examine another impressively constructed junction. 'Tell me about these tunnels,' he said, his voice ringing in the chill air.
'There are hundreds of tunnels under the castle towers and down into a natural cave system,' said Himesor. 'Most of them are part of the library.'
'I don't see any books.'
'No,' said Himesor, finally coming to a halt before a huge set of doors. 'I wouldn't expect you to.' He turned to the Doctor. 'We're here.'