Obviously he’d have to lie. He’d smile and joke and flatter and charm his way out of this little mess. He’d been in far worse situations than this. Again Wichtig tried to move and again he failed. Whoever trussed him to this stone table did a very good job. Rolling his eyes to the side, he caught sight of blood runnels running the length of the table. His balls, already shrunken and chilled, tried to crawl into his belly.
“Shite, shite, shite, shite.”
He closed his eyes searching for calm. It wasn’t there. Calm was gone. Calm had packed its bags and slunk off to hide somewhere safe.
Fine. He didn’t need calm to be charming. A little extra incentive, that’s all this was. He’d be so rutting charismatic they’d beg apologies and offer to help gut his stupid horse.
He breathed deep to relax his nerves. At least the sniffle seemed to be gone. He might be trussed to a table and helpless, but that was hardly call to be disgusting. It was a small thing, but it was a sign that things were swinging back in his favour. How could the fates not love him? Whatever the fates were. He’d never been clear. Were they gods or something stranger?
Wichtig examined the room as best he could. Cracked and filthy stone walls. A stone ceiling resplendent in ropey strands of thick cobweb. The rather unnerving presence of blood gutters. There wasn’t much else to see. An empty fireplace, filled with even more cobwebs than the rest of the room, looked like a mouth twisted in a rictus of terror. A mottled collection of sagging candles jammed into empty wine bottles coated thick in dust lit the room with wavering light. There were no windows and Wichtig couldn’t begin to guess whether it was night or day. Was he unconscious for a few minutes, hours, or longer? He felt weak, but that could be hunger or the lasting effects of whatever that damned albtraum did to him. Against one wall was another table, wood and simple, its surface empty.
He drew a slow breath through his nose and caught the sour scent of sweat and fear.
Nothing to worry about. Naked and cold and stinking like a man about to piss himself in terror, these were all minor impediments to a man of Wichtig’s charms.
Something long with more legs than Wichtig could possibly count skittered across his exposed belly and he screamed.
The door to Wichtig’s cell swung open and whatever was on his belly scampered away.
“I thought I heard a girl’s scream,” said the first man entering the room. He was a fat and dull looking beast with a face like week old porridge and eyes that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a boar were they not so widely spaced.
A second, older man entered behind.
“Greetings, gentlemen,” said Wichtig, flashing his second best grin. Not the one that made women swoon and men loathe him—that one was all wrong for the occasion—but the one that made everyone think he was their best friend. “Forgive me if I don’t get up.”
“Is he being funny?” asked the dull boar.
“It’s called bravado,” said the other, a thin and wiry old man with bright eyes. “It won’t last.”
Neither looked particularly imposing or dangerous, but Wichtig decided that when one is strapped to a table, anyone not lashed to a table seemed a little intimidating.
“Actually,” said Wichtig, “I was trying for charming.”
“A Gefahrgeist?” asked the old man. “That’s what he’s for,” he said, nodding at the man beside him.
Wichtig rolled his eyes to take in the fat one. He didn’t look like much. “Him?”
The lean one nodded, inspecting the strips of leather binding Wichtig to the table. “He’s too stupid to be charmed.”
“I’m right here,” said the other.
“He’s so dumb I think he’d even be immune to a Slaver’s influence.”
“I’m standing right beside you. Hello?”
“I think it has something to do with his utter lack of imagination.”
“I’m imagining myself smacking you.”
“If you manage to charm me, he’s supposed to kill me.”
“Which I will do happily.”
“That’s a pretty shite plan,” said Wichtig. “If he’s that dumb he won’t notice you’ve been charmed. If he does notice, you get killed.” Frowning in mock thought, he said, “And then the idiot might think you’ve been charmed and kill you when you’re perfectly fine.” He wished he could fix his hair or strike a pose better than naked and strapped to a table. “Were I you,” he said, “I’d kill him before he does you out of confusion.”
“Believe me, I’ve thought about it,” muttered the old man.
“Have you been charmed?” asked the fat one, eyeing the other suspiciously.
“Do I seem charmed?”
“I’ve charmed him,” Wichtig told the fat man. “And in a moment I’ll tell him to kill you.”
The old man punched Wichtig in the mouth, knocking out a tooth the Swordsman promptly swallowed with a mouthful of blood. Head ringing, Wichtig spat a red froth, most of which rained back down upon his immobile face. “Ow.” He felt about with his tongue, trying to discern which tooth he lost. Hopefully not one of the front ones. He didn’t want his smile ruined by—
The old man hit him again, mashing his lips and shattering another tooth. This time Wichtig managed to cough the fragments out instead of swallowing them.
“I don’t think he’s charmed,” said the fat one.
Wichtig had to agree.
Swallowing more blood, he said, “I’m having an off day.”