The Jack Hansard Series: Season One

Episode 10: Questions

Clanging. My head. Like a bell. Exploding. Like a melon full of... of... fire. All mushy. No, not mushy. Hard, like a bell. Clanging.

With what felt like Herculean effort, I levered my eyes open. I discovered that the world was swaying, and apparently upside-down. I groaned, or tried to. It came out more like a gurgle.

"Nice of you to join us," said a dry voice to my left.

I turned my head and saw the face of Edric Mercer about a foot away, at the same orientation as myself. Warm satisfaction flowed through me as I noticed the purple bruise under his eye. I was vaguely aware that I was the cause of it.

"Ah, you're awake. Good," said another voice. It spoke in clipped tones and belonged to a woman who, despite being the wrong way up, was clearly a Regulator. Mercer groaned for the both of us. "Answer when I call your name, please." She consulted her clipboard. "Albert Two-Toes?"

"Here," said a gruff voice behind us.

"Berlinda Bloodhorn?"

"Yes," moaned another.

"Edric Mercer?"

"Present."

"Jack Hansard?"

"Mm."

"Kale Stevens?"

"Here."

"And what is the knocker's name, please?"

"... Coblyn..." Ang responded, feebly.

"What was that?"

"Her name's Ang," I supplied. "She's a coblyn, not a knocker."

The Regulator peered at me over her glasses. "What's the difference?"

"She's Welsh."

"I see." She made a note on her clipboard. Probably adding Ang to a list. Regulators love lists. "I trust you all understand you are being held here due to your involvement in the fracas earlier this evening. Tell me please, who started the fight?"

Despite the growing ache from the blood pooling in our heads, no one spoke up. We all knew what to do. Like chastised school-children, we stuck to our silence. You don't grass up your enemy. You just beat him up later, in a quieter location.

The Regulator knew this too, and wasn't about to waste effort on a small bust-up. At least, I hoped it was only a small bust-up. I wasn't conscious for most of it.

She exhaled in an exasperated but resigned manner. "All right, then. You will be given permission to leave once someone has come forward to vouch for your character. You will be released on the understanding that you will not be involved in any further disturbances. All future infractions will result in a far more permanent solution. Have I made the situation quite clear? Please affirm your understanding." This was met with a chorus of groaned assent. "Good."

She motioned to a snub-nosed troll loitering nearby. It stepped forward, raising a giant cleaver in its enormous fist. We shrank back as much as a collective of hanging bodies could. The troll swung, and Mercer hit the ground with a thump.

"Mr Mercer, we have already received your character reference. You are free to go."

He picked himself up, unsteadily. He must have been rather dazed, as he staggered off without throwing one witty quip behind him.

The Regulator cast a cursory eye over her remaining captives. "As for the rest of you, you will remain hanging until I receive a reference, or you suffer a brain haemorrhage. Whichever comes first."