The friends had gathered for a dinner at Gregory’s private dining room at the Savoy. Gregory mused that they could be forgiven for being mistaken for a private dining club rather than a close-knit band of cosmic adventurers.
Lord Stiletto had particularly enjoyed the quail although he had had some issues with eating them. But what was the difference between them and organic poultry, or estate shot pheasant? Just that quail are cute. Not a thought he would have been too happy sharing with the table. It was good that the seven were all together again. A magical number, although in truth and in secret they were nine. He was just settling down to some goats’ cheese when they were disturbed by a knock on the door, and the Maître d’, profusely apologising for the interruption, supervised the wheeling in of a large widescreen TV. He placed a remote control, and a small engraved wooden box in front of Gregory, bowed and left the room, silently closing the large double doors behind him.
“What the devil,” growled Eaglebeard.
“I thought there were no interruptions,” commented Magnus.
“Is it a surprise?” asked Lady Sarah.
“Sorry,’’ replied a disturbed Gregory, “I’m as much in the dark as you are.”
“Then you had better press Play,” said ‘Schripp, his empty sockets holding them all where his useless eyes had been removed, and skin transplanted from his buttocks had been grafted over to cover them.
Gregory picked up the remote control and meeting the eyes of his friends, carefully pressed Play.
Sat in a simple grey plastic chair, terror etched into the lines around her eyes, was the limp and haggard form of Aiasdotter.
Held loosely in her bruised, bleeding hands was a small wax sealed package.
“I think you had better open the box,” said Stiletto calmly.
“It might be a trap,” purred the Lady Susanna.
“I don’t think so,” replied Gregory, and releasing the catch of the beautifully crafted box, he took out a pair of round, golden ladies’ spectacles.
“What’s the engraving on the box,” asked Eaglebeard.
“Oh, only a Rabbit.”
Copyright Jhedron Luckspar © 2015 2018