Read Online The Ironsmith by Nicholas Guild - Free Book Online Page B

you,” he told Uriah. “Take him into the prisoner’s cell and kill him. I want the execution to make an impression, so a quick death won’t serve. Then leave the body there, until I tell you to remove it.”
    The next day Caleb went down to the lower prison. Uriah opened the cell door for him and handed him a torch. Then, once they were inside, Uriah took the corpse by the heel and dragged it out, closing the door behind him.
    The dead prisoner left behind him on the floor a smear of blood, which in the torchlight seemed black.
    For perhaps a minute, Caleb did not speak. Partly this was strategy and partly it was fascination with what even a few days in this worst of places could do.
    The young man of fashion, the frequenter of Greek plays and pretty whores, was gone. In his place was just another prisoner, filthy and helpless. He kept turning his head away, no doubt because the light from the torch blinded him. He tried to shade his eyes with his hand, but the chain was not quite long enough to permit it. He looked too dazed even to be afraid.
    His family, when they sent him away, could never have imagined that he would come to this.
    â€œWho are you?” Judah asked. “Why am I here?”
    Caleb realized that he had made a mistake. He had kept silent too long and thereby surrendered the initiative. He would have to take it back.
    â€œYou are not here to ask questions. You are here to give information.”
    The ceiling was low and Caleb kept thinking he was about to bump his head. He did not wish to appear to crouch. He looked around for a stool, but there was none. In any case, better to remain standing.
    â€œYou will describe to me your relationship with the criminal John, called the Baptist. If you lie to me, if you suppress information, if you do not tell me the whole truth, then no one will ever know what happened to you.”
    Judah lowered his head until it rested on his arms, and after a moment he began to make a whimpering sound.
    In his mind, Caleb recited the letters of the Greek alphabet. That would be sufficient time.
    â€œI will give you one more chance to answer. If you do not, I will forget you. The world will forget you. Tell me of the criminal John and your relationship to him.”
    He hardly had time to finish the sentence before Judah cried, “ I only saw him once! ” And then, more calmly, “I only saw him once. Some friends thought it would be amusing to hear him speak. We listened, and then we left. I don’t even remember what he said. It was a joke, a way to spend the afternoon. That was all.”
    Caleb seemed to consider this. He stared into a dark corner, where there was nothing to see. He tapped his foot a few times against the floor. Then he turned and walked out of the cell. Even before Uriah slammed the door shut, he could hear the prisoner shouting, “No, no !”
    â€œTomorrow we won’t give him anything to eat,” he said quietly, although there was no chance Judah would hear him over his own screaming.
    Caleb decided he would give his kinsman three days—no, four—four days to consider the situation. It varied with the individual, but three or four days was the usual length of the journey into absolute despair.
    Caleb decided he would work no more today. He would go to the baths and sweat out the stink of this place.
    In truth he simply wanted to be out in the light. He wanted to be outside and to feel the heat of the sun on his face. Perhaps by the time he reached the baths his fear would have subsided into something tolerable.
    In the prison the thought kept coming unbidden into his mind, How long until I am in one of these cells, waiting upon the executioner’s convenience?
    Soldiers were already out in the countryside, arresting anyone suspected of being one of the Baptist’s followers, but the Tetrarch was not a patient man.
    And behind the Tetrarch, Caleb always saw the Lord Eleazar, whispering in