"All right, I'll talk," I complied.
"Who sent you on this mission?" he asked immediately, leaning toward me.
"Your mother," I replied. "And I can also tell you how she paid me..."
Before I could continue, he grabbed my head from behind and slammed it against the table twice. The dull headache returned even more violently than before, my nose was running and blood mixed with drool remained on the wooden surface. He glared at me, took a few nervous steps across the room and came back to me.
"I don't know if you're playing the fool with me or the hero. But you're neither, my boy. It's better for you to talk. If the situation stays as it is, you'll be the sacrificial victim, like a mere pawn. I'll ask you again..."
I hesitantly looked down at my legs for a moment.
"...I'll tell you what I know, but I want you to ensure my safety..."
"All the necessary measures will be taken, I can guarantee that," he nodded.
I swallowed and looked up at him.
"I have been assigned the mission by a Horgache*.
I don't know his name, but he wanted me to call him 'The Slippery One'. I first saw him two weeks ago."
"Ah, ah," he agreed, looking very interested as far as I could tell by the change in his expression. "Was he a greenskin or a blueskin?"
"Hmm, gree-"
His slap came so fast and so suddenly that I had no chance to prepare myself, physically or psychologically. It was with the back of his hand and with such force that my head turned ninety degrees and my cheek tore against my own teeth. It was certain that I wouldn't be able to eat normally for the next few days. Blood filled my mouth.
"You bastard..." I cursed.
The captain grabbed my chin and turned my head to face him:
"Maybe the situation isn't clear enough for you," he said, a bit annoyed. "I already know that you took the mission from Tano the Shrimp." He paused a bit to see my reaction.
"And he's on his way to join us. Don't worry about him, worry about yourself. If anyone here can help you, it's me. So you'd better start talking."
As a matter of fact, there was something really fishy about the story, and I definitely didn't have the right cards. Maybe the captain was telling the truth, or maybe he was using the information he'd already obtained to extract new information from me and ultimately use me as a witness against The Shrimp.
My final decision was to keep quiet. It was the safest choice. I should wait to gather more information.
The officer continued to question me relentlessly, but I remained as mute as a grave. He tried to convince me that he really wanted to help me, then tried to intimidate me by talking about the dungeons and other such nonsense. When I'd had enough of his boring stories, he pulled out the other chair, sat down across from me, looked me in the eye and said:
"Just tell me one thing Boy. Why did you steal fake rubies? Hmm?"
I looked at him with a mixture of contempt and suspicion:
"Colored glass, that's what you took. The guards who were there noticed it. Would you like to see it?"
From his pocket, Hantz pulled out a few pieces of broken glass that mimicked the shape and color of the rubies I'd stolen. I stared at the shards in his hand with an interest I could no longer hide.
From the corridor came the hurried footsteps of several people, and a few seconds later a guard called to the captain:
"I'll be right back," he said before leaving.
They exchanged words at the entrance to the room, in the half-open door. I couldn't hear anything, but I detected annoyance in the intonation of Hantz's voice, and even a suppressed nervousness. Someone slammed the door. They talked bitterly for two or three minutes. Then the footsteps receded and the door opened once more.