Fox Confessor, Pt 2
anonymous
September 20 2011, 16:24:12 UTC
"No need," the stocky man informed him without stepping aside. "The parish priest confessed her. Didn't get a word out of her, but it's done anyhow."
"It is?" The priest deflated a little. "Oh. Yes, of course. The fact of the matter is, she sold me a....certain potion that, ah, turned part of me green."
"Which part?" the guard asked with more interest.
The priest leaned forward, nudging the musket aside. His voice sank to a murmur. "She must have a cure. All I ask is ten minutes alone with her. Ten shining, golden minutes."
A leather purse had appeared out of nowhere in his palm. The guard scrutinized him. "You offering me a bribe, Father?"
"Why....yes."
"Just checking." Hanging the pouch on his belt, the guard unlocked the wooden door. "Five minutes, then I'm off."
Gideon had curled up as best he could for a doze in the straw. At the creak of iron hinges he sat up, wiped his runny nose on his manacles and squinted into the dark. To a human prisoner the figure entering the jail would have been a blur in a dress, but Gideon bounced in place, recognizing John. His chains rattled. The guard's face appeared at the window in the door, peering through the bars. John touched his finger to his lips and said loudly: "You wretched woman! What devil's brew did you palm off on me? Give me the antidote, or it's the rack for you! I have friends in the Curia. My brother-in-law sells gloves to the Camerlengo's aunt --"
Bored, the guard shut the door and fell to counting his money. John hurried across and squatted in front of Gideon with his cassock trailing in the straw. "You knew I'd come back for you, didn't you, Giddy? Of course you did. Now listen. Speak, you hellspawn! This is what we're going to do...."
Gideon listened to the nervous rush of words with his own heart racing. Finally some action around here. He was so happy that when John leaned in to ask if he'd got all that he jumped into his lap to kiss him. John sat down hard under the full weight of Gideon and his steel accessories and tried to say, "Not here!" That was when the guard entered.
Being a prudent man, he'd started to worry about the quiet. If the prisoner and her visitor had murdered each other he'd never hear the end of it. He lit his lantern, opened the door, and recoiled at the sight of the priest being molested by the straggle-haired slattern. When the light hit them they leaped apart so fast the witch knocked the back of her head against the wall. The priest struggled to his feet with his hindquarters all over straw.
"What's going on?" the guard bellowed.
Trying to brush himself off, the priest stuttered, "That -- it's -- that was the cure. The antidote."
He staggered towards the door, wiping his mouth and blundering into the guard as he pushed past. "Excuse me. I have to see a man about a drink."
It was a while before the guard could bring himself to go to the witch and check that her shackles hadn't been tampered with. He held his musket at the ready and tried not to touch her flesh. But when he got home he found that the coins in his purse had all turned to scrap metal.
***
After getting rid of his vestments John visited an alehouse where he asked for ten barrels of beer to be reserved in the mayor's name. Then he went on to the town hall.
The mayor and the head jailer were discussing the minutiae of tomorrow's execution when a gentleman with black spectacles and a top hat burst in on them. He cried, "Mr. Mayor, this town is harboring a witch!"
The mayor puffed up like a turkey, endangering his gilded buttons. "Who are you? What do you mean by barging in here unannounced?"
"My name is Doctor Saligia," John answered. "I mean to save you from a pestilence."
"It is?" The priest deflated a little. "Oh. Yes, of course. The fact of the matter is, she sold me a....certain potion that, ah, turned part of me green."
"Which part?" the guard asked with more interest.
The priest leaned forward, nudging the musket aside. His voice sank to a murmur. "She must have a cure. All I ask is ten minutes alone with her. Ten shining, golden minutes."
A leather purse had appeared out of nowhere in his palm. The guard scrutinized him. "You offering me a bribe, Father?"
"Why....yes."
"Just checking." Hanging the pouch on his belt, the guard unlocked the wooden door. "Five minutes, then I'm off."
Gideon had curled up as best he could for a doze in the straw. At the creak of iron hinges he sat up, wiped his runny nose on his manacles and squinted into the dark. To a human prisoner the figure entering the jail would have been a blur in a dress, but Gideon bounced in place, recognizing John. His chains rattled. The guard's face appeared at the window in the door, peering through the bars. John touched his finger to his lips and said loudly: "You wretched woman! What devil's brew did you palm off on me? Give me the antidote, or it's the rack for you! I have friends in the Curia. My brother-in-law sells gloves to the Camerlengo's aunt --"
Bored, the guard shut the door and fell to counting his money. John hurried across and squatted in front of Gideon with his cassock trailing in the straw. "You knew I'd come back for you, didn't you, Giddy? Of course you did. Now listen. Speak, you hellspawn! This is what we're going to do...."
Gideon listened to the nervous rush of words with his own heart racing. Finally some action around here. He was so happy that when John leaned in to ask if he'd got all that he jumped into his lap to kiss him. John sat down hard under the full weight of Gideon and his steel accessories and tried to say, "Not here!" That was when the guard entered.
Being a prudent man, he'd started to worry about the quiet. If the prisoner and her visitor had murdered each other he'd never hear the end of it. He lit his lantern, opened the door, and recoiled at the sight of the priest being molested by the straggle-haired slattern. When the light hit them they leaped apart so fast the witch knocked the back of her head against the wall. The priest struggled to his feet with his hindquarters all over straw.
"What's going on?" the guard bellowed.
Trying to brush himself off, the priest stuttered, "That -- it's -- that was the cure. The antidote."
He staggered towards the door, wiping his mouth and blundering into the guard as he pushed past. "Excuse me. I have to see a man about a drink."
It was a while before the guard could bring himself to go to the witch and check that her shackles hadn't been tampered with. He held his musket at the ready and tried not to touch her flesh. But when he got home he found that the coins in his purse had all turned to scrap metal.
***
After getting rid of his vestments John visited an alehouse where he asked for ten barrels of beer to be reserved in the mayor's name. Then he went on to the town hall.
The mayor and the head jailer were discussing the minutiae of tomorrow's execution when a gentleman with black spectacles and a top hat burst in on them. He cried, "Mr. Mayor, this town is harboring a witch!"
The mayor puffed up like a turkey, endangering his gilded buttons. "Who are you? What do you mean by barging in here unannounced?"
"My name is Doctor Saligia," John answered. "I mean to save you from a pestilence."
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