The Provisional
Chapter Two/ /Bad Luck
In a room with many shadows, teasing moths of noise took advantage of the Warden's bad ears. In a room with fewer shadows these noises spreading from the corners wouldn't startle a squirrel, but the heavy wooden door allowed the glimmering yellow pastels to dally in only so far before the gloomy room pushed itself onto the encroaching lamplight. The deep blackish purples and greens did not keep sound or smell out however. The Warden hesitated, smelling the horse manure making its way up the stairs. Another teamster. He dropped his carving tool down by the wax tablet and slouched down even further, sliding his chair back across the rug underneath his boots. As the thumping clang of Prison Guards' boots proclaimed the oncoming processional of his guards, the Warden clamped his pale eyelids down and took in deep wheezing breaths of the night air sneaking through a crack in the floor off to his left. A silhouette presented itself in his doorway. Oh good. The idiot parade is here.
He supported his head at the cheekbone by arranging it on the reddish upturned palm connected to his folded arms. He stared forward to the man who had to turn sideways to enter his doorway. "Do you know anything yet Gabe?" That was a dumb question.
Gabe's face slowly scrunched like a deflating accordion as confusion and mild panic beset his heart. "About what, sir?"
"The prisoner, Gabe."
"Oh! Right, sir! Well you'll be happy to know I have brought him up here so you can question him."
"That much I can smell. What I can't seem to figure out is why you brought a prisoner to my quarters." The desert sand face turned to white pudding as Gabe realized at that point just how many rules he had broken. "You know, you're not much use to me. All you do is create fires for me to put out. I don't like that much Gabe; I have to work too hard when you do that. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
His Adam's apple took a bounce. "You're unhappy, sir?"
"Yes. But then again I'm always unhappy with you Gabe. It's just that now I'm going to do something about it. Show the prisoner in then leave."
The accordion deflated again. "Do you mean your room or the Castle, sir?"
"Both."
"Okay, sir."
"Now."
"Yes, sir.
The Warden glowered at the back of the blond guard's retreating head.
I hate this job.
- - -
Gord saw interest, contempt, and admiration staring back at him from the Warden's dark eyes.
"That's why you think you're here?" the Warden said. The question was more for the Warden's benefit – he was manipulating the conversation.
The prisoner looked at his feet as if expecting them to answer, but when they remained silent he frowned. "I don't know. Could be bad luck too."
"Bad luck?" It was more a laugh than a question.
The prisoner's jaw muscles bulged as he clenched his teeth. "Well I wasn't the one who started all the ruckus," he said through clenched teeth, "it was the other fellas – they jumped me." After his anger released, Gord got control and relaxed his muscles, which resumed their bulging positions. "I was the only one arrested though. Like I said: bad luck." The Warden's eyes – staring, skeptic and dark – reminded Gord of someone. His mind buzzed looking for whom, but he came up empty.
"That's not what 'the other fellas' said. They said –"
"You can't believe them! Teamsters are all a bunch of lying cheats!" The ropes around the prisoner's wrists grunted as the cords strained their tight knots. Gord pulled on them not to escape, but out of anger.
"Gord, you are a teamster." The dark eyes mocked as the voice challenged.
Silence.
The Warden pulled himself up by clasping the table and heaving. Gord saw the dark eyes bulge a bit and smiled: the Warden wasn't used to working that hard. The Warden smiled back. "I have a proposal for you that might have a solution in it for both of us."
With this last string of words Gord made the connection; the Warden reminded him of his boss. That sneaky man always had a plan to sucker you out of something, and he was always trying to get something for nothing. Gord hated that. "But it might not. It might be a solution for you but not for me," the prisoner said.
"You're from Kakariko Villiage, right?" The Warden said, dodging the question.
The prisoner's head rose with his eyebrow to challenge the Warden. "I thought you didn't know anything about me."
"Why would you think that?" The diversion worked.
"You asked the blond guard all those questions about who I am, what my name is, who I work for, what I do in the Market…where I came from…."
"Ah, you see?" The Warden smiled triumphantly. "There is my problem!" The Warden moved his hands back to the chair and pushed himself up. His soft leather boots scuffed the ground as he circled the heavy wood table he was sitting at. "I was testing those guards. They can't even interrogate prisoners!"
"They did sound a little stupid."
"Stupid? Those guards are idiots! What I need is someone who can think." With this he closed in and his eyes met with the prisoner's. "Now I know you aren't the smartest of men, but you can fight. And I know why you are here – to compete in the Provisionals and become a Hylian Castle Guard. But you missed the Provisionals Gordo. Anyway, after what happened this morning in the Market I don't think the King will want you anywhere near his Castle." The prisoner sunk his chin into his chest; he knew he was helpless to do anything now. He was in prison, charged with Public Violence in the Royal Market. The Warden drew the prisoner's attention to himself again: "But I can change all that. I just need you to do something for me."
The prisoner snapped his head up. "Just tell me what it is."
"I need an interrogation tool that found its way into the Kakariko Well. It is a round glass piece in a purple holder with a purple handle. I ask you for two reasons: one, if I sent one of my guards they would get lost – I need someone with a familiarity of Kakariko and half a brain; two, I know there are secret passages down there, but I don't know how to find them."
"What do you need it for?"
"That does not concern you, Gordo. Becoming a Hylian Royal Guard concerns you. I will recommend you to the King if you prove yourself competent. If not, I'll let you go just for coming back alive."
"What if I don't except?"
The Warden leaned in closer to the prisoner, hissing on his face. "Then you'll stay here." The Warden pulled back and loosed a wicked smile. "You're from Kakariko. You know what that means." Gord's face went pale and his knees shuddered. The Warden saw the effect his words had and was satisfied. The Warden called in the guard at his door to escort the prisoner out of the Castle; he was free. The Warden walked back over to his chair and sat down. He picked up his wax carver and was about to resume work on his tablet when the blond guard poked his head in the doorway.
"Um, am I fired, sir?"
"Gabe, if you aren't crossing the drawbridge in one minute I will have you killed." Gabe turned quickly to leave, but he didn't make it far without tripping. The Warden listened to Gabe slam all the way down his stairs. His shoulders sunk and he glowered at the place where Gabe's head had been.
The Warden leaned over and farted.
I hate this job.