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Authors: Jack McGinnigle

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BOOK: The Knowledge Stone
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The Second Jailer now conducted the girl around the walls of the room: ‘You see, Miss, we are very neat and methodical. We keep most of our equipment here in the room; we have a place for every item – we take it, use and then return it. Sometimes, the item needs to be cleaned after use and I do this at the pump outside.’ The man then worked around the room, showing her each item, explaining how it is used and describing the specific effects he would expect it to have.

‘You see, Miss, you need to be an expert to get the job done as efficiently as possible – we don’t want to waste time. So you need to plan, you know, maybe this one first to prepare the flesh and then, perhaps, this one to apply sharp persuasion to obtain the truth as quickly as possible.’

Finally the man led her back into the small room next door.

‘You see, Miss, this is a very well-designed room. We fasten most of the adults to the hook there – it’s a good strong hook and will take the full weight of a man, you know. When they are fastened there, all parts of the body are fully exposed and easy to reach, aren’t they? Of course, if the prisoner is small, we can use the table and the straps, just like we did earlier today. You see how the straps are cleverly designed to hold the body still in absolutely any position we choose? As you have already seen, we are very precise in everything we do.’

Standing back, the man now said: ‘Now, I have shown you everything. Do you have any questions?’

White and trembling, hugging her arms around herself protectively, the girl whispered: ‘No, Sir.’

They returned to the main room. The First Jailer said: ‘Please sit here, Miss, you must excuse us for a while; we have our work to do in the Jail.’

The two men were absent for some time, although, from time to time, one or other returned briefly to the room. Eventually, both men returned and the First Jailer said: ‘Now we will all have our daytime meal. You must join us, Miss.’ Their meal was simple but good and they ate and drank leisurely, talking gently of many things, after which both men closed their eyes and dozed for a while.

When they awoke the maidservant said: ‘Sirs, may I clear the meal away and clean the plates and cups?’

‘Why, Miss, that would be lovely! The pump is in the courtyard, just outside the door.’ The girl enjoyed the fresh air outside and was in no hurry to return! When finally she reappeared in the room, the First Jailer spoke kindly.

‘Come and sit down, we need to talk again.’ The men sat at the table, one on either side of the girl: ‘Now, Miss, why did you steal the medallion?’

‘Sir, I did not do that. I have told you the truth.’

‘But Miss, you are the one who is accused. So answer me this –
If
you had stolen the medallion, why would you have done it?’

‘Sir, I have no reason to steal the medallion. There is nothing I could have done with it.’

‘Miss, we are seeking your help.
If
you had stolen the medallion, where would you have hidden it?

‘Sirs, you must not ask me that. There is absolutely no place I could have hidden it without it being found.’

‘You could have buried it in the ground, in a place only you know. Then, later, when all the hubbub died down, you could go to that place and retrieve it.

‘No, Sir, I could not …’

‘Yes, you could, Miss. And then you could sell it to a gold merchant, couldn’t you? Then you would be rich and you would be able to set yourself up as a fine woman …’

‘No, Sir!’ The words screamed. ‘I could never do that. I wouldn’t know how to do that. I never touched the medallion. I never stole it. It was someone else who stole it …’

‘Who?’
The word was like the crack of a heavy whip.

‘I don’t know,’ the girl wailed.

‘Another servant? A member of the family? A thief from elsewhere?’

‘I don’t know.’ The girl wept bitterly and slumped across the table. They gave her a cup of water to drink and the girl gratefully drank it down. Then the two men sat at the table attending to some papers while the girl recovered herself.

After about half an hour, the First Jailer looked up and said: ‘Miss, it is now time we showed you the rest of the Jail. This is something you must see before you go back to the Manor House.’ Going back to the Manor House was something the girl looked forward to, eagerly! ‘There is just one thing,’ the man continued, ‘where we are going is very dirty and it is best that you wear clothes from the Jail. My colleague has laid some out for you in the next room. Will you change into them, please?’

‘Yes, Sir,’ the girl replied, ‘I will do whatever you think is best.’ The girl went into the next room, shivering a little at the sight of the hook, and found a thin shift and a rather worn but clean white gown spread out on the table. Obediently, she took off her own clothes and donned the shift and the gown, which proved to be quite voluminous. She returned a little self-consciously to the main room and the men looked at her with approval.

‘That is good, now your own clothes will not be soiled or damaged. Let us go now.’

The men and the girl now made their way into the cell areas of the Jail. The First Jailer stopped by a large door and bid the girl look through the large grill. A frightening low moaning sound came from this room. Gingerly, the girl looked into the room. She could see that the large dark room had little furniture. The walls were steaming with damp and the smell was dreadful. Several miserable-looking women sat on rough bunks; the moaning was coming from them.

‘This is the communal women’s cell. If you were a prisoner here, this is where we would put you.’ The girl held the grill bars tightly, feeling faint and nauseous. Suddenly, one of the women sprang up and ran to the door, screaming profanities. The girl jumped away from the door, her heart pounding.

‘Get back,’ the First Jailer shouted to the woman, ‘do you want to be flogged?’ The woman quieted immediately and disappeared.

‘Sometimes, quite often, actually, they get quite aggressive.’

The men continued down the dank corridor, guiding the girl between them. Soon, they came to a large barred door from which emanated a terrible noise of screaming and shouting.

‘This is the men’s communal cell; they’re always fighting in there. Do you want to look?’ The man placed a hand in the middle of the girl’s back and propelled her forward.

‘No, Sir, please, I don’t …’ she screamed, resisting his push. As she was impelled forward towards the bars, suddenly, there were many hands and arms thrust through the bars, reaching out into the corridor, casting around, writhing in the air like snakes.

The First Jailer spoke quietly into the girl’s ear: ‘Sometimes we use these men to help us with the truth, you know. If someone won’t tell us the truth about their crime, we put them into this cell with these men. Not for long, you understand, maybe only for an hour or even a half an hour. Funny thing, no matter how they’re dressed when they go in, they always come out naked!’

As he spoke, the First Jailer had been pushing the girl towards the door. She struggled but could not stop the movement. Slowly, inexorably, the grasping, clawed hands came closer and closer until they could seize and tear at her clothes, her hair, her flesh …

‘I am guilty,’ she screamed again and again as loudly as she could, ‘I did it, I stole the medallion!’ Slowly, the men eased her back a little to the sound of ripping fabric. Then she was held at fingertip reach of the grasping, tearing hands; although flesh contact was now minimal, her clothing continued to be torn.

‘Why did you steal it?’

‘To get money, just as you said.’ All her answers were screams of terror.

‘Where have you hidden it.’

‘I buried it in the ground, just as you said.’

‘Where?’

‘I can’t remember.’

‘You must remember.’

‘I can’t, I can’t, I can’t …’

‘Why did you betray the trust of your Mistress?

‘To get money, to become a fine lady, just as you said.’

‘How did you think you would not be caught and accused?’

‘I don’t know, I didn’t think, I don’t know, I don’t know …’

The men pulled her away from the grasping hands and sat her down on a rough wooden bench against the opposite wall. When she had recovered sufficiently to be able to walk, the men helped her back to the jailer’s room and sent her out to change into her own clothes.

The girl crept back into the room, her face drawn with the horror of her ordeal.

‘Sit here with us,’ the First Jailer said. ‘Do you remember what I told you about us?’

The girl was still traumatised, white, shaking uncontrollably.

‘No, Sir.’

An almost inaudible whisper. ‘Something about truth.’ After another long pause: ‘That you are experts in the truth.’

‘That’s right, Miss, I’m glad you remembered. My friend and I, we know truth. Now I know you’re upset but listen carefully to what I’m saying. My friend and I, we know you were definitely
not
telling the truth outside that cell door. You were telling us lies, weren’t you? You did not steal the medallion, did you?’

‘No Sir, I did not and I never would do such a thing.’ The girl wept hopelessly. ‘And now that I have confessed you will make me a criminal and my life will be finished. I want to die!’

The man looked at her and smiled: ‘Miss, you do not understand. Listen carefully. We know that you lied to us about stealing the medallion. You are innocent, we know that, too. And that will be our report to the Court Jailer. And I am sure our report will be believed by your master, too.’

The girl’s head was now in a complete whirl. She had admitted guilt. She had confessed to the crime. But the jailers would report she was innocent? She was confused but gradually, a feeling of relief developed into pure elation! She had been examined and found innocent of the crime! Meanwhile, the two men talked together quietly, giving her time to recover.

After some time, the First Jailer said to her: ‘Miss, we have now completed our examination on the matter of the medallion but there is one other thing we would ask you to do for us.’

‘What can I possibly do for you?’ The girl was mystified and fearful.

‘Do you remember the stable boy at the Manor House who attacked the Master’s daughter?’

‘Yes, I knew him. I could never understand why he did that. He always seemed to be such a nice boy.’ The jailers looked at each other.

‘Miss, the stable boy is here in the Jail, awaiting his time at the Court. He is in a single cell and we are looking after him. He is well. We wondered if you would speak to him? He never sees anyone but us and we are sure he would like to speak to someone from his previous life. We could bring him here to this room and you could talk together.’

The girl thought for a moment or two: ‘I feel very sorry for the stable boy,’ she said. ‘I will speak with him for a while if you think that will please him.’

The stable boy was fetched from his cell by the Second Jailer. He stood in the doorway, thin and rather dishevelled, blinking in the light and very surprised to see the girl sitting at the table: ‘Miss,’ he said in a surprised tone, ‘what are you doing in this place? This is no place for you to be.’

The First Jailer intervened: ‘This young lady has agreed to speak with you for a while.’ Turning to the girl, the man said: ‘We have some work to do; can we leave you alone to talk?’

The girl looked into the stable boy’s eyes, seeing nothing but kindness and honesty.

‘Yes,’ she said simply.

‘Sit at the table, boy, and don’t touch the young lady.’ Then, addressing the girl: ‘We will be nearby, just call if you want us to attend you.’

So saying, both jailers left the room, not to do other work but in fact to eavesdrop on the conversation between the stable boy and the girl, this being the real purpose of the meeting.

‘We might learn a lot more about what goes on at the Manor House,’ the men had whispered together, ‘in our position you can never have too much information.’

‘I am sorry you are suffering here,’ the girl said, ‘but why did you do it?’

‘Miss, I did not do it. This is what happened on that day. I was the one who caught the horse. It was my friend the stable hand who went to help Miss Kati and he only held her hands to help her to her feet.’

‘But why did Miss Kati accuse you?’

The boy looked sad and explained: ‘Earlier, I had been insolent to her. I had spoken without permission.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I told her she looked lovely. She was furious. She told me I’d be sorry.’

‘Let me understand this clearly. You never touched Miss Kati?’

‘No Miss; earlier, I had been insolent but I did not mean to anger or upset her.’

There was silence for a few moments. Then the girl asked: ‘Why then are you pleading guilty for your attendance at Court?’

The boy flushed: ‘The Court Jailer wished me to plead guilty and gave me a confession to sign.’

‘Why did you sign it if you were innocent?’

The boy spoke quietly: ‘The jailers were instructed to obtain my confession. This is what happens here.’

At that moment, the girl understood. Looking at the boy wide-eyed, she remembered the little apple thief and the means of obtaining his confession earlier in the day.

‘What did they do to you?’ The girl’s voice was soft.

After a pause, the boy averted his eyes.

‘It is no matter what they did. I put my mark upon the confession and that is what will be produced at the Court.’ Outside the door, the jailers fidgeted uneasily and looked down at the floor.

‘But this is monstrous!’ The girl’s voice was loud. ‘What can be done?’

‘Nothing, I am afraid. I will be convicted and must accept my punishment.’

The boy and girl sat together silently for a moment. Then the boy spoke: ‘Enough about me. Why do I find you here at the Jail?’

The girl’s face clouded: ‘I, too, am in trouble.’

‘You? How can you possibly be in such trouble that brings you to this terrible place?’

So the girl told the whole story of the theft of the medallion and how, as the only servant with access to the key of the jewel box, she had been accused of theft and been sent to the Jail for examination. The examination was now over and she thought the jailers believed in her innocence.

The boy’s face darkened: ‘Have you been beaten or ill-treated?’

The girl’s hesitation was momentary: ‘No, I have not been ill-treated but the examination has been rigorous.’

The boy nodded and asked: ‘So has the medallion now been found?’

‘No, everywhere and everyone has been searched but nothing has been found.’

The boy sat back and was deep in thought for a few moments: ‘Miss Kati!’ The girl jumped at the sudden, explosive exclamation!

‘You startled me. What do you mean, “Miss Kati”?’

‘I bet she has something to do with this. I bet it was she who stole the medallion.’

‘Surely not!’ The girl was shocked and protested against the boy’s theory.

‘Look, think about it.’ The boy’s voice was incisive. ‘It can’t be the Master or the Mistress because it’s their own medallion. We know it’s not you, the only other person with access to the key, so it must be someone who knows secretly where the key is hidden. Miss, is the key hidden in a difficult place?’

‘Yes, I can assure you it is very well hidden.’

‘So the thief needs to be a clever person. Now listen, most of the servants at the Manor House are not permitted in the Great Hall – for instance, as a stable boy, I was not. Of the house servants that are permitted to work there, many are not so clever and would not be able to find the key, even if they wanted to. Of those who are clever, I am sure none would dare to open the Mistress’s jewellery box, let alone steal something from it, even if they knew where the key was hidden. That leaves only the two children of the family. The boy is young (nine or ten?) and he is a quiet, timid character. It is impossible to think that he would steal from his mother. What could a little boy like that possibly do with a gold medallion? That leaves Miss Kati, who, as I know to my cost, is capable of anything!’

BOOK: The Knowledge Stone
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