Part 15 (2/2)
”I think the wrists and ankles should suffice.”
”Shame.” Kirsch laid a hand on Graebel's shoulder. ”Come on upstairs, friend. If you're very good, I'll do as Lukas suggests. Otherwise-” He held up a fist and jerked, as if tugging on a rope. Graebel accompanied him upstairs very quietly.
As soon as Data had the cart loaded, Pieard opened the main door to the warehouse. The market was less crowded than it had been, but there were still plenty of people around. Standing by the open door, Picard yelled out: ”My friends! Your attention, if you please!”
Heads turned to stare at him. The babble of the shoppers and merchants close by died down.
”Herr Graebel has decided to retire from his trade as a wine merchant,” Picard called out, loudly and clearly. ”In appreciation for your support and custom, he invites one and all to come and have a drink on him.” Gripping the closest wine barrel, Picard pulled it from the shop. With a small ax that lay inside the door, he staved in the lid. ”Come, and enjoy!” He entered the warehouse and brought out an armload of goblets. A few of the more adventurous-or thirsty-shoppers were drifting over to the warehouse. Others, knowing Graebel's reputation, cautiously stayed where they were. Picard plunged a goblet into the barrel and took a deep draft. Then he wiped his hand on his sleeve. ”Believe me, the wine is perfectly fine!”
That action proved the sincerity of the offer. The drifting of people became a stampede. ”There's plenty more inside,” Picard called over the din as everyone tried to help themselves. ”Take what you will, there'll be no charge!” Then he joined Data and Kirsch at the cart.
The three of them watched the crowd rus.h.i.+ng into the warehouse. Several men pulled barrels from the floor and staved in their lids. Others found goblets that they shared around. In moments the room was overrun by men and women grabbing whatever they could.
Picard smiled. ”That, I think, should teach Herr Graebel a lesson or two.”
”It should beggar him,” said Kirsch, approvingly. ”They'll drink up all his profits in no time.”
Data handed the reins of the cart to the captain and then sprang down to open the gates. As they drove out into the street, they could see that other people from the market were rus.h.i.+ng over to avail themselves of Graebel's apparent generosity. Data lifted the rec.u.mbent Lieutenant Miles and carefully laid him in the back of the cart, covering him with a small woollen blanket he had procured. Picard flicked the reins, and they started off toward the castle.
Volker had not expected the duke to be in a very good mood, but he had barely been ready for the verbal attack he had received. The duke's wife had been completely unable to calm him as he lay on his bed, ranting and screaming at his captain of the guard. Volker, his face flushed in a mixture of embarra.s.sment and anger, simply had to stand at attention and take the a.s.sault.
”Your stupid, ill-trained men have inflicted outrageous physical and emotional abuse on me this day!”the duke screamed. His throat, apparently, had recovered from Riker's attack long before his pride. ”Two different people have been allowed to injure me. Why am I paying you that this should happen to me?”
”Both perpetrators are in the dungeons, my lord,” Volker said, striving for calm. ”We shall do with them whatever you desire.”
”Are you absolutely certain that they are down there?” the duke screamed. ”Or did the girl make her escape in that ma.s.s a.s.sault on your fools?”
”All of the prisoners who tried to escape were killed,” replied Volker. ”The girl was not among them. Therefore she is still in the cells. And my men took the other two down themselves.”
”Your men couldn't take sheep to a slaughter-house!” The duke lay back on his bed, coughing with the strain. ”I want the guards down there doubled. If any of those prisoners escape, I'll take the revenge I aim to inflict on them out on your hide, Volker. You'll pray for me to kill you if they aren't there when I want them.”
”They will be there,” promised Volker. He glared darkly at the duke. What an insufferable, obnoxious buffoon! All he cared about was inflicting pain on others and pleasure on himself. But one of these days he would push Volker too far... .
There was a nervous rap on the door, and one of the guardsmen entered. ”My apologies, my lord,” he said, shaking. ”But we need Captain Volker in the dungeons immediately.”
Volker could hardly believe his ears. ”What?”
”There's been ... trouble, sir,” the wretched guard stammered. ”The two prisoners have broken free of the guards and barricaded themselves in the guardroom.”
Wincing with pain, Volker heard the duke's howl of fury. ”I'll be right down,” he informed the guard, who fled without a backward glance. Volker turned back to face the duke, who looked as if he were about to suffer a heart attack. If he had a heart, he might have done, Volker mused. Aloud, he snapped: ”There is no other way out of that room, my lord. We only have to break down their barrier to have them again.”
”If you can hold them!” The duke-his injuries somehow forgotten-leapt to his feet. ”I'm coming down with you, Volker. If you foul up this recapture, I'm going to pull out your guts with my own fingers and stuff them down your stupid throat!” He s.n.a.t.c.hed up his sword and stormed from the chamber. Volker, his face blazing redly, followed him out.
”Wine for the duke's table,” Picard told the guard on duty at the castle gate. ”A gift from the merchant Graebel.”
The guard nodded. ”Buying himself out of trouble again?” he asked. ”All right, take it over to the storerooms.”
Picard nodded. He flicked the reins and the horse trotted forward. Glancing up at the portcullis, Picard was glad that gaining entrance had proved to be so simple. It would have been difficult to get in any other way.
In the back of the cart, Miles groaned. He had finally wakened but seemed stunned and confused. With his broken arm and dazed wits, Miles would be a liability in the event of trouble. Just inside the entrance gate was a small building that appeared to be a chapel that some owner had tacked on to the building. It looked empty.
”Data,” Picard suggested, ”I think it would be best for Mr. Miles to wait here for us. He'll look as if he's praying for healing if anyone finds him.”
Nodding, Data helped the injured lieutenant into the chapel, then closed the door behind him. He rejoined the captain on the cart, and they surveyed the courtyard ahead of them.
Picard saw a puzzling sight: several of the guards dragging the bodies of recently slain people into piles. The corpses were all of filthy and emaciated men. His puzzled stare made Kirsch snort.
”It looks as if the duke's cleaning out the dungeons,” he said. ”They're a bunch of the prisoners he keeps down there. Kept, I should say.”
”Data, is Ro among them?” Picard tried to keep the worry out of his voice. It was never easy to lose an officer under his command.
”No, sir.”
”Thank goodness.” Picard moved the cart over to one side of the yard. ”Any idea where the stores might be?” he asked Kirsch. ”We'd better make ourselves busy for the moment.”
Before the scholar could reply, one of the guards came over. ”You there,” he snapped. ”Off that cart. We're commandeering it for these bodies.”
”But this cart belongs to Herr Graebel,” Picard protested. ”I really can't-”
The guard pulled out his sword. Grinning, he asked: ”Do you want to argue the point?”
Picard scurried down, followed by Data and Kirsch. ”No, of course not.” He held up his hands placatingly. ”But perhaps your captain would be kind enough to give me a receipt? It would be more than my job's worth to go back without the cart. Herr Graebel would think I'd stolen it.”
”I imagine he would.” The guard nodded. ”All right, go and talk to the captain. He'll decide whether to give you a note for your master.”
”Thank you,” Picard said. He jerked his head for Data and Kirsch to follow and hurried across the yard toward the main entrance. ”That was a stroke of luck.”
”It seems to me that you're making your own good fortune,” Kirsch muttered. ”And this piece will get us into the castle.”
”I hope we'll get some news about Ro when we do.”
Picard led them up to the main door. The guard on duty heard his story and then allowed them to enter. Once inside, they were pushed to the side by other guards. As they watched, more guards were pouring down a flight of stairs. There was the sound of much banging from the end of that pa.s.sageway.
”What's going on?” Picard asked one of the guards, speaking loudly to be heard over all of the noise.
”Three prisoners have barricaded themselves in the cellar,” the man replied. ”Captain Volker and the duke have just gone down to lead the a.s.sault.”
Picard dragged Kirsch and Data toward the far doors. ”I'd be willing to wager anything that Ro's somehow behind this,” he said, smiling slightly. ”She can cause more trouble than any six normal people.”
”Your suggestion seems quite plausible to me,” agreed Data. ”But does it a.s.sist us in any way?”
”It doesn't look too good to me,” Kirsch said. ”There must be half the garrison between us and her. How are you going to rescue her now?”
Picard didn't like to admit that he was completely out of ideas. Kirsch was correct in his a.s.sessment. Getting to Ro would not be simple. As he considered his options, the doors to the main hall opened and two men emerged. One wore black robes, the other a fur-lined robe of office.
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