On Guard

We walked down the stairs to the main hallway. Everything was in disarray. The chandelier was in pieces on the floor, the rug was pulled up and torn to bits, and the stain glass window was shattered. It was evident that the prisoners were there. "We did this." Mamba declares. "Not directly, but yes we did" "Aren't you worried what they'll do next?" "Not my problem." I say while glancing at the chandelier. "But it's my problem." A voice shouts out. I look up from the chandelier to see Mama at the hands of a guard. The guard has a sword to Mamba's throat. "Where do you think you're going?" He asks. "Out of here." I respond casually. I start to exit. The guard calls to me. "I'll slit his throat." "I doubt it." I say. "You want to test me?" He asks, pressing the blade against Mamba's skin. "I don't think you'll do it, but I don't want to test you either." I throw my hands up. "Good,now both of you back in the tower." Mamba snickers. "What's so funny?" He demands. "We escaped once. We'll do it again." Mamba informs. "You have a better idea what I should do?" He questions. "How about an appeal?" I ask. The guard squints his eyes. "An appeal." I repeat. "I wouldn't even know how to do those." "First you must know what we are charged for." Mamba jumps in. The guard scratches his head. "I don't know, but I suppose I could look it up." He looks at the two of us, annoyed. "Come with me now."