Tomas said, “If he is not upon this world, then I suspect you must go to other worlds. Have you the arts?”
Miranda said, “If I don’t, I can find those to help me who do. But where to begin the search?” She looked at Tomas. “Reputedly, you and Pug were as brothers. You would know where to begin the search.”
Tomas said, “I can think of only one place, but it is much as if I said search the sea for a particular fish. For the place to begin searching is as vast as any place in all the myriad possible universes.”
Miranda nodded, saying, “The Hall of Worlds.”
Tomas nodded, too. “The Hall of Worlds.”
7
Trial
Roo stirred.
He felt a hand on his leg, and in his sleepy state he brushed at it weakly. He felt it clamp down and suddenly he was wide awake.
An ugly face loomed over his, leering and grinning. “You’re an ugly sod, boy but you’re young.” It was the nervous man with affected speech of the day before who was now fondling Roo’s leg.
“Ah!” shouted Roo. “Keep away from me!”
The man laughed. “Just having a joke, me lad.” He shivered. “Damn cell will give a man his death. Now shut up and go back to sleep, and we can both get warm.” The man turned over, back to back with Roo, and closed his eyes.
The brute called Biggo, who had regained consciousness an hour after being tossed into the cell, said, “Don’t terrorize the lad, Slippery Tom. This is the death room. He’s too much on his mind to be thinkin’ of romance.” His speech had the lilt of Kornachmen of Deep Taunton, rarely heard in the west.
Slippery Tom, ignoring the jape and the accompanying laughter, said, “It’s a cold morning, Biggo.”
Seeing Erik now awake, Biggo said, “He’s not a bad sort for a liar and murderer, is Slippery Tom; he’s just scared.”
Roo’s eyes widened. “Who isn’t?” he said with a frantic note in his voice. He closed his eyes tight, as if to shut out everything by force of will.
Erik sat back against the unyielding stone wall. He knew Roo had spent a fitful night, awakening several times shouting in his sleep as he wrestled with personal demons. Erik glanced around the cell. Other men slept or sat quietly in their place as the night wore on. Erik knew that the bravado Roo had exhibited since awakening in the cell the day before had been some sort of madness: he couldn’t accept the inevitability of his own death.
Biggo said, “Spanking young bottoms is common enough in the prison gangs, but Slippery is just looking for someone warm to cozy up to, lad.”
Roo opened his eyes. “Well, he smells like something died in his shirt last week.”
Tom said, “And you don’t exactly remind me of flowers, youngster. Now shut up and go back to sleep.”
Biggo grinned, and his bearlike face looked nothing so much as that of an overgrown child, one with broken and crooked teeth. The beating administered by the guards the day before had done nothing to enhance his appearance; blue, purple, and red lumps decorated his visage. “I like to sleep cuddled with someone warm. Like me Elsmie. She was sweet.” He sighed as he closed his eyes. “Too bad I’ll never see her again.”
“You talk like we’re all going to be convicted,” said Roo.
“This is the death cell, me lad. You’re here because you’re going to be tried for your life, and not one in a hundred who has sat here lived two days past his trial. You think you got a way to beat the King’s justice, boyo?” asked Biggo with a laugh. “Well, good on you if you do. But none here are babes, and we all knew what the deal was when we took to the dodgy path: ‘get caught, take your punishment.’ That’s the way of it, for a fact.” He closed his eyes, leaving the two young men to their own thoughts.