Sunlight filtered into the cramped cell through rusted iron bars set in mossy stone. Ailsa scraped at a patch of crusty yellow lichen with her boot. Three days imprisonment had reduced her to pondering the walls. Limestone, maybe. She shifted against the scratchy wool blanket covering the cot’s thin mattress. Stupid swamp town. Stupid jail.

The place reeked. The blanket smelled of sweat and must, a pleasant respite from the pervasive stench of the corner latrine. The swamp’s humidity made it worse. The still air was a weight pressing her against the bed, squeezing the breath from her body.

At least they treated her well. Plenty of food and water, and she got to keep her clothes. Guards didn’t even touch her. She’d been in worse jails. Ailsa laid her head against her hand. Her jet black hair fell across her arm as she considered her escape options. She could ask for a bath, invite the guards to join her, take them out when they were distracted. Cliché, but it worked last time.

“Get movin’, you drunk!” A gruff voice carried over the rattling of chainmail.

Ooh, a drunkard. That might be fun. Ailsa was at the door in an instant. Ailsa craned her neck till two burley men with gray and gold tabards over their chainmail came into view. Both had swords on hip and spears in hand. One had reddish hair, the other brown. The guards dragged a pudgy, half-conscious drunkard between them. The drunkard’s legs kicked and shuffled. They stopped at an empty cell and rested their spears against the wall. One hauled the man to his feet while the other fiddled with the keys.

The drunkard peered at the man holding him. He blinked, slurred a ‘good morning’, then vomited beer all over the guard. The guard yelled and shoved the drunkard. The drunk stumbled and fell, vomiting again on the floor.

The other guard bellowed with laughter, shaking his head. “Always point ‘em away!” He unlocked the cell door, opened it on creaking hinges. “Never know when they’re gonna let loose.”

“Sound advice,” Ailsa said, laughing.

“You shut it, Prisoner!” The angry guard struggled to shake the stinking wetness from his tabard. “Bloody fuckin’ hell. First the dragon, now this.”

Dragon? If the town had dragon problems, she’d stay in her cell. “What’s that about a dragon?”

The guards ignored her. They hauled the drunkard back to his feet and shoved him into the cell. The befouled guard peeled off his soaked tabard as soon as the door was locked.

“This shit better wash out.” He tossed his filthy tabard to the floor. His mail glistened with repulsive wetness as he fetched his spear.

“Shit don’t wash out,” Ailsa said, grinning. “But that might. Now what about that dragon?”

“All the way through to my fuckin’ clothes.” The guard stabbed his filthy garment with his spear, hoisting it. “Still no volunteers, huh?”

The other guard smirked, resting a hand on his sword hilt. “Nah, but whaddya expect? Dragon says companion, but he just wants his spear polished, right? Some bar wench’ll volunteer, especially if we sweeten the deal with coin.”

“So sweeten it.” The red-headed guard stared at the pool of vomit as if willing it to evaporate. “Don’t need that scaly bastard bellowin’ his balls off ‘bout us breakin’ the deal. The happier he stays, the better off we are.”

Ailsa leaned her forehead against the iron bars. The cool metal against her olive skin was a respite from the humidity despite the rust. “Hey! How about you two smelly bastards stop gossiping like a couple of street corner whores and tell me what you’re babbling about?”

“What’d you call me?” The red-headed guard stepped towards the cell, anger flashing in his brown eyes. “You’d better shut your mouth, Prisoner.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’d hate to have to kick the shit out of a man covered in puke.” Ailsa glanced at the brown-haired guard. “You gonna let me rough him up, or you gonna tell me about this dragon?”

The dark-haired guard put a hand on his partner’s shoulder, calming him. “You’re pressing your luck, Prisoner. But since you’re so eager, maybe you can help.” He smirked at his friend, and Ailsa’s stomach sank. She shouldn’t have asked. “I guess you don’t know about our deal with the dragon, huh?”

“You made a deal with a dragon?” Ailsa quirked her brows, wrapping her fingers around one of the bars.

“Not us.” The guard tapped his spear against the door till Ailsa pulled her fingers back. “Our city.”

“Your whole city made a deal with a dragon?” Ailsa folded her arms over her dirty green tunic. “No wonder they’re dumb enough to hire guards who get puked on. Something in that swamp must be rotting your brains. Can’t trust a deal offered by a monster.”

“Watch it.” The guard’s voice sharpened. He drummed his fingers against his spear’s haft. “We’ve had this deal a long time. Mutual protection, you see. There are worse things in that swamp than dragons. He keeps us safe.”

“Uh huh.” Ailsa lifted a brow. “And what’s he get?”

The guard shrugged. “We keep him safe from dragon slayers. Not as many to worry about these days, so now we give him coin, treasure. Let him tax merchants on our roads.”

“Almost like he planned it.” Ailsa rumpled the fabric of her sleeve, an idea forming. “Now he wants a whore, huh?”

“Companion was how he put it.”

“And polish his spear was how you put it.” Ailsa stared at him through the bars, nudging her boot against the floor.

“We like our peace.” The guard glared back at her. “So the dragon gets what the dragon wants. And the dragon…” The guard tapped his spear against the door. “Wants a volunteer. Someone willing to…”

“I understood the euphemism.” Ailsa glanced at the barred window. Dust motes danced in the sunlight. She had too much life to live and too many things to steal to spend her life rotting away in some swamp town’s jail. “So if I do it, I’m free, right? Isn’t that what you’re scheming about? Send a prisoner to spare some townswoman?”

“Ain’t you the clever thief.”

“Not so clever she didn’t get caught.” The red-headed guard adjusted his still-wet chainmail, soaked to his skin now. “But I bet she’d make a good dragon’s whore.”

“You’ll commute my sentence?” Ailsa glanced between them.

“Up to you.” The brown-haired guard scratched his stubble. “Only offering cause you asked. If you’d rather spend the next twenty years stuck in that cell instead of a few months with a dragon, that’s fine.”

“Few months?”

The guard shrugged. “When he tires of you, you’re free to go. I hear he’s had women out there before. They say some even came back with treasure.”

Treasure, huh? Maybe she could still salvage this job even without getting what she came for. Compared to some of the things she’d done just to survive, pleasuring a dragon sounded easy. She’d get the dragon off, wait for him to sleep, grab a few things of value and be gone long before he ever woke.

“What the hell.” Ailsa smiled at the guards. “Gotta be better than spending my life in here.” She smirked at the red-headed guard. “Right, Pukey? Alright boys, sign me up.”

 

 

I hope you enjoyed the first episode of The Devil’s Deal by D. Wilder. Stay tuned for more episodes all week. The full schedule and contact information for D. Wilder can be found here.