The Choice of Magic - Michael G. Manning Page 0,110

an even fight in a wrestling match, Will observed silently.

Each of the men had taken a different corner to maximize the space between them, which left only one corner for Will—the corner where the chamber pot was located. Rather than sit there, Will remained by the door, which put him squarely between the skinny man and the giant.

“What are you, some kinda deserter from Darrow?” asked the skinny man, his tone hostile.

“I’m from Barrowden,” said Will. “They burned our village, so I came here. The coat is from a Darrowan soldier I killed while I was escaping.”

The slender man laughed, but the sound didn’t lighten the mood. “You expect me to believe a kid like you killed a soldier? Look me in the eye when you lie.”

Will met his gaze, hoping he looked confident as he did. “You can believe me or not. They killed my aunt and cousin. I caught one by surprise and beat him to death with my staff when I was crossing the pass. I would have frozen to death without this coat.” He left out the other three men he had killed, since he knew that would be too much for anyone to believe. Possibly five, if that last one wasn’t found before he froze, he reminded himself.

“My, my, my!” exclaimed the stranger. “That just about makes you a fucking hero, doesn’t it? I’m sure that’s why they locked you up in here with us undesirables.”

Desperate to shift the focus of the conversation, Will asked the only thing he could think of, “What are you in here for?”

“Me?” said the lanky man. “I was lifting someone’s purse and got caught.” He mimed drawing a knife with one hand. “I cut the bastard and I would have killed him if the guards hadn’t jumped on me.” He gave Will a sloppy grin, as though he should be congratulated for what he had done.

Hoping to shift the conversation further, Will turned to the big man on his other side. “And what did they put you in here for?”

The big man’s lips parted, and he started to reply, “I was—”

The skinny man interrupted. “The big fat one don’t speak. Do you, fat boy?”

The big man closed his mouth.

“Want to see something funny, kid?” asked the slender man. When Will didn’t reply, he stepped forward and slapped the big man so hard it rocked his head to one side. “This one’s as gentle as a lamb. You could piss on him and he wouldn’t do anything, would you, fat boy?” He slapped the big man again.

Will straightened up, squaring his shoulders. “Don’t do that.”

The skinny man slapped the big guy again. “Why, kid? Does it bother you? You should mind your own business. This is the only fun to be had in here.”

Something about the cutpurse terrified Will, but he couldn’t ignore what was happening. “I said leave him alone.”

The thief grinned, stepping back. “Fine, kid. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He seemed as though he was about to return to his corner of the room, but in a flash he turned and slammed his fist into Will’s gut.

The air left Will’s lungs with an audible whoosh and he doubled over, unable to breathe. A moment later a boot slammed into the side of his head, knocking him sideways. The padding probably saved him from serious injury, but he was stunned, nonetheless. An idle thought passed through Will’s mind, I wonder if this is how the soldiers felt when I attacked them. Another kick sent shivers of pain through his side.

The drunk in the opposite corner started yelling to alert the guards, but no more blows came. Will heard some scuffling, followed by a wheezing sound, and when he managed to look up he saw that the giant had pinned the thief against the opposite wall, his massive hand around the slender man’s throat. The cutpurse’s face was red and shading toward purple, his eyes bulged as he beat feebly at the giant’s arm. Then he went limp.

A few minutes later, one of the constables entered the other room and looked at them through the barred window in the door. “What’s going on?”

“They’re killing one another in here!” screamed the drunk.

It was another ten minutes before the door opened, and Will could see that the other room was full of men. Five constables stood together with small wooden shields and heavy clubs. “Up against the walls!” one of them ordered.

Will complied and soon found himself pressed painfully