"I failed you master," Malachi said gloomily.
As he paced around their tiny corner of the dim dungeon.
He turned to look at Andras who rested on a small bed on the other side of the cell.
Malachi shook his head and continued, "I should have been more vigilant. We would not have gotten caught had I done my duty correctly."
Another yawn was stifled by Andras. "I can't say I disagree with you on that point. You are a pitiful right-hand man. You swing your sword around as if it was a toy magic wand, not to mention your footwork is just as clumsy as a pregnant troll."
Malachi winced.
Andras hit on a sore point for him, footwork was indeed very important in sword combat.
Even beginners knew that effective footwork would allow Malachi to close the distance with enemies.
By creating openings, evading enemy attacks and delivering powerful blows to opponents.
"I'm grown enough to admit my foolish mistakes," said Malachi with his nose wrinkled. "Still I resent being compared to a troll!"
Trolls were unbelievably stupid not to mention ugly as sin.
He couldn't help but feel insulted when compared to a creature that is considered hideous and scary.
With eyes big and round like soup bowls and a nose as long as a man's testicles.
Malachi continued, "besides aren't trolls male, how could they even get pregnant? That's why the nasty buggers always have to kidnap other species to procreate —shit. You're not even paying attention to me."
"Of course, I heard every word you said. You openly admitted that you're the moron that landed us in this supernatural jail. Well… it beats silence, so continue disparaging yourself for my entertainment. They say confession is good for the soul so please spill your guts and don't leave out any details. I'm sure it will make a good story to tell the others back home later."
"I am a moron. If Zagan was here he would have fought to the death and you would not have been captured."
"It was a trap and we were clearly outnumbered."
"We've gone on many missions before where the odds were against us and escaped."
Andras called solemnly, "Malachi."
"Yes, my lord."
"Enough already! Your whiny voice is starting to get on my nerves. We both agree as a subordinate your shit but you have one major redeeming feature."
"What's that?"
"You're not boring so don't let me down now."
Malachi replied glumly, "I'm not entirely sure that's a compliment —holy shit. What's that smell!"
Lifting up his arm to take a whiff Andras implied, "it's not me. So it's probably you."
Feeling overwhelmed by the nauseating stench that assailed his poor nostrils and knowingly dismayed that there was nothing that could be done about it.
Malachi went over dishearteningly to the other side of the cell to lay down on his cot.
Staring at the dismal mud crusted ceiling he retorted, "next thing you'll be saying I stink like a troll."
"Not impossible. I must admit I've always avoided bridges where trolls reside since they are always always aggressive and threatening anyone who dares to cross their territory. So I can't give a fair comparison since I've never actually gotten close enough to a troll."
"Well, I have."
After admitting this, Malachi's face lit up like a christmas tree he finally did and saw something his master had not experienced.
Malachi remembered one Christmas his grandmother wanted mutton and she forbade him from coming home until he came back with a mountain goat.
He stalked one in particular for hours, a fluffy white one, he salivated as he watched it only to see it get eaten alive by a hungry troll.
Malachi lost his appetite and walked several miles away to another town to buy the meat from a butcher's shop.
After retelling his vivid memory there was silence in the cell.
"That's strange. You never mentioned it before."
"It was before I got to know you."
Andras was seven years older and back then he only played with the bigger kids.
Malachi always used to admire and trail behind him all over Hell's Island. "It must have been when your father sent you to do the first of your Demon Trials."
"Maybe."
"Are they going to execute us, Andras?"
"I can't say for sure."
"Then why capture us then?"
"You're asking the wrong person Malachi. You heard the Commander say earlier that the Queen wants to meet with me."
"I warned you earlier not to pirate her vessel."
"Weak," muttered Andras while rolling his eyes, "I seriously doubt taking a few trifles that would have gone unnoticed is the real reason we are sitting in this dungeon. Everyone knows Commander Dayton handles the queen's more controversial missions."
"I don't get it… so why?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. Stop worrying about things you have no control over. Would you like some rum?"
Malachi shook his head.
He couldn't fathom how Andras could remain calm and consume alcohol like water when both their lives were hanging by a thread.
"Just get some rest Malachi," coaxed Andras.
To Malachi his master did not seem worried but then Lord Andras rarely ever showed his true feelings, this was just the way of noble demons.
Malachi had admired his master for years, even in their humble surroundings his master practically glowed with an aura of power emanating from him.
"Still, what if the Queen decided to execute us?"
"Should that occur then we'd find a way to escape from this prison."
"I will only get in the way and slow you down. So just let me act as a decoy and —"
"Stop. Don't ever suggest that again."
Andras was the loyal type, his noble master would never abandon his comrades.
"That is the only way I feel like I can make amends for getting caught," Malachi felt honor bound to preserve his dignity.
"You should give yourself more credit, you are a lot braver in words than action but the answer is still no."
When his master spoke in that tone that meant his words were final and brooked no argument.
Malachi let out a sigh of relief and wiped the perspiration from his forehead.
When he made his offer he had been so nervous that if his lord had decided to take him up on the offer his life would be forfeit.
Before he could thank Andras for sparing his life the door to the prison cell opened.
Commander Dayton ordered, "Take that servant Malachi outside and let him chop wood until we are through with the demon lord."
The guards hauled Malachi out of bed and pushed him outside the door.
Andras scoffed, "Be careful with my man, you fools, before you shake out the few remaining brain cells out of that small head of his."
Commander Dayton ignored Andras' rebuke and ordered, "Show some respect and stand on your own two feet before I make you. You must be blind if you do not see who is gracing you with her presence!"