Grand Guginol

“No, Sir Inquisitor, none, I swear by Mithras,” an aged woman’s voice whimpered.

“If you are lying, woman, we will return,” the stern voice said.

I slipped under the stairwell’s shadows. I donna see eye to eye much wit’ me clan, but we both hate the Mithraic Inquisition. Nobody was safe from ‘em in this city, from the lord mayor on down. Ya didna know who they were unless they was on official business. Then they’d have black robes an’ hoods, gold sun amulets, and the most revoltin’ self-rightousness a’ anybody I e’er dealt wit’. I’d just missed bein’ disappeared by ‘em a couple a’ times.

The really bad thing ‘bout ‘em was that they ran in packs when on the hunt. No sense getting hauled away when staying outta sight made more sense.

“Brother Lemur, take this to the carriage,” Stern Voice said.

“Forgive me, Father, but I think--” a boy began.





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