CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Fox was only gone a moment, but while he was gone the dwarves grumbled about the unfairness of Fox getting to do all the boss work. They were equal partners, after all. Fox came back with a bunch of keys in his hands.

‘Come on.’

They followed him into the Inn. Immediately to the left was a large iron door with a lock that Fox opened. A stone staircase went down into the dark, between curved walls made of stone. This was like going into the basement beneath the Catholic church in Greymill, where the priest stored the candles and the spare chairs and the extra catechisms, and a statue of Mary that stood in the corner like a ghost.

The group descended the stairs. The air smelled of mould.

At the bottom of the stairs was a short corridor, and at the end of the corridor was the basement gaol. Here was a bed, with a single blanket humped on it. Tom wasn’t sure, but he felt he could smell the blanket.

Outside the cell, along one wall, was a bench for a guard to sit on, and a grey blanket the guard could put over himself for warmth. The blanket looked in far better condition than the one inside the cell.

Fox rattled the keys in Tom’s direction and grinned with pleasure, ‘A little less salubrious than what you are accustomed to, no doubt.’

Tom didn’t react.

The hairy dwarf put a hand on Fox’s shoulder, which Tom already knew was a stupid thing to do.

‘Elion will be all locked up,’ said the hairy one. ‘Me and Grubby won’t need to watch him.’

Fox stepped backward and swung a hand across the dwarf’s nose, dragging sharp rings that dug into the dwarf's wrinkled skin, leaving parallel scratches.

‘Fecking stupid cave dweller. You and your brain rotted friend are guarding Elion. That is what you are being paid to do.’

The dwarf brought a hand up to his nose, which spurted with crimson. The other dwarf with the porridge nose (Grubby) laughed like an idiot.

While the dwarves argued with Fox, Tom walked into the prison cell and dragged the door of iron bars shut. He thought that there was the slimmest chance that Fox would see the shut door and somehow get himself confused and think that it was locked.

Only, on top of being as dandy as a sugar cane, Fox was an attention to detail man, which was evident in the exact way he wore his suit, and the exact angle that his orange hat sat on his head. He looked over at Tom inside the prison and studied him for a moment then nodded his head.

‘Good work.’

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

He picked through the keys on the large key ring until he found the one that locked the cell door.

Tom took hold of the iron bars and stared out. He was a prisoner in gaol. Now that was something.

Fox turned to the dwarves.

‘Sit rock lovers.’

The hairy dwarf put his hands on his hips, meaning business. ‘Now look here Fox … we are two fully grown … ’

‘SIT.’

The dwarves plopped down side by side on the bench, with their little legs swinging in the air. They looked miserable.

Fox worked a key off the large key ring. He held it out toward the dwarves, unsure, it seemed, as to which dwarf to give it to. Finally he decided to give it to the porridge nosed dwarf known as Grubby.

‘This is access to the door at the top of the stairs. If anything happens you come up the stairs immediately and go into the tavern. There will be a master on duty all night who will wake me immediately.’

Grubby closed his little fist over the key. He looked solemn in the moment, as though he had just received an award.

Once Fox had departed up the dark staircase the dwarves immediately began grumbling again, in such an irritating manner that even the normally affable Tom shouted, ‘Shutup.’

This perked the dwarves up. They raised their heads and stared at Tom for a moment, then burst into laughter.

‘Listen,’ said Tom. ‘If you want to see some lady from the tavern, why doesn’t one of you go up and bring the lady back here.’

The dwarves looked at one other, and you could see a greedy little thought developing between them. Then Grubby shook his head.

‘She must not see Elion. That could get us in trouble.’

‘I will wear the sack,’ said Tom.

The bear-like dwarf, sounded as despondent as ever,

‘We couldn't trust you to do that.’

Tom reached his hand through the iron bars. ‘Give me the sack and I will jolly well put it on now.’

The dwarves looked at one another again, and once again thoughts floated between them. They were very eager to see a lady tonight. They had obviously been planning for it.

‘If Elion puts the bag on now it might be okay.’

These two were not your Disney dwarves.

‘Give me the sack,’ Tom said again.

The hairy dwarf pulled the sack out from the front of his tunic and walked toward the prison bars. He stood back a little, almost as though he was afraid that Tom was going to grab him.

‘What if Fox comes back while the lady is here,’ said the hairy dwarf. He wasn’t talking to Tom. He was talking to Grubby.

‘He won’t come back.’

The hairy dwarf handed the sack to Tom.

Tom pulled the sack open and wriggled it over his head. The dust inside the sack got unsettled and Tom coughed. He wondered why the dwarves weren’t enquiring what his motive was to do something so strange and foul as wearing a sack so that they could entertain a lady inside a gaol cell? He had a ready answer, but they didn’t ask.

Grubby stood.

‘I’ll go get her.’

‘Nah. ah. You are too dum. You’ll bring back some fat girl from the kitchen.’

‘Go eat a fairy. I’ll get better than you could. You look like a bear that fell off a cliff.’

Once again the dwarves were off on an argument that rose up into a shrill fight that looked like it was going to become physical. Then Grubby lunged at the hairy dwarf, only to fall with a meaty thud on the stone floor. This made the hairy dwarf laugh, then Grubby laughed, and everything became okay.

Eventually Grubby stomped up the stairs.