LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 61 : Coercion
Chapter LXI : Coercion
Lateday of Diapente, Thirteenth Day of Autumnmoon
Cedric awoke to find that he no longer dwelt in darkness. Two days had passed since his encounter with ‘Richard’, but nothing else approached his cell since then. At least, not while he was awake. Now, a candle burned in the cell’s center, fat with wax running down the sides. A damp chill permeated the air, forcing him to hold his body tightly for warmth. His icy fingers ached as he clenched his fists. He needed to get the blood flowing.
His neck and shoulders were sore from a crooked night’s sleep. He stood up and stretched, extending his arms high above his back. Vertebrae popped into place, and he rubbed his shoulders and neck to work out the cramps.
He took a whiff and brought his hand to his nose. A pungent odor wafted unexpectedly, but he didn’t know from where. He crept forward along the cold stone floor, hunting for the scent. Hunger and dehydration left him lightheaded. He yearned to quench his thirst.
Closer to the iron bars, he found a tray, which had a bowl and a tin cup. He blinked several times, since the tiny flame of the candle barely lit that side of the cell. It almost looked like the contents of the bowl were moving. Squirming. It made him feel nauseous, but he braved his way forward for a closer look. Now, with the candle in hand, he saw the bowl was full of maggots and weevils, thriving in what appeared to be a mixture of watered oats. It was, evidently, the source of the stench. Retching, he pushed the tray to the furthest corner. Had his stomach not been empty, he would have spilled it.
At least the cup appeared to be filled with clear liquid. A layer of silt was at the bottom, but nothing else floated above it. He took a sip and confirmed it was water. Unable to resist, he joyfully gulped its remaining contents. He backed away from the bowl of rotten oats, wondering if someone had been cruel enough to place the bugs inside, or if they had somehow gathered there while he slept.
He heard the grinding of the massive iron door at the entrance. His body went numb. Whatever the Richard-thing wanted, he no longer feared it. He was certain: he would die before he’d let Zounds fall into the hands of demons.
Instead, a man with a lantern emerged, which he placed on a nearby hook. It didn’t take long before Cedric recognized First Advisor Virgil Garvey. His eyes narrowed.
The despicable man opened with an eerily cheerful tone. “Good morn to you, Mister Curtis. I trust the ‘accommodations’ were to your liking?”
Cedric didn’t want his last moments on Gaia to be taunted by Virgil’s twisted wit. He turned away, unwilling to offer him the courtesy of acknowledgement.
“I understand Richard paid you a visit earlier,” the pompous man pressed. “His Majesty can be so tactless at times. Of course, I think he underestimates you. I think you’re smarter than he gives you credit—”
“Spare me your insincerity, Mister Garvey.” Cedric was willing to lash out, if it would cut to the chase. “Nothing you say will convince me to change my mind. You have nothing I want, and your threats fall on deaf ears. Now … if you’re here to kill me, then get it over with.”
The goading fool chuckled under his breath. Giddy little puffs of air made nasal sounds as they escaped his nose. “I understand your ethical dilemma, Mister Curtis. You found out about our little operation with Kitezhian born nationals, and now you can’t bring yourself to support your former employer. You mentioned your soul earlier. Perhaps you think it might be tainted if you aid us?”
He offered a pause before answering his own question.
“You needn’t answer, because I already know. Your problem is that you feel obliged to express moral indignation, even though you couldn’t care less what happens to people you don’t even know. And for the right price, you’d be willing to change your mind.”
Cedric was angry. Virgil didn’t know him at all. “You can’t pay me to look the other way, Mister Garvey. What I’ve seen goes far beyond lies and murder at this point.”
Virgil stroked his chin. “Yes, yes … money is of no interest to a man like you. You’ve lived a life of both wealth and poverty, so you’ll take it or leave it. That’s fine. Then, what? Hmm. Maybe you want women. No, that’s not it. I know. You want … popularity. Fame. Recognition for your intellect and hard work. What if I could grant you that, Mister Curtis? What if you could have exactly what your heart most desires.”
Cedric gritted his teeth. If Virgil wanted to bargain, he was happy to play his little game.
“You mean I could ask for anything?”
The lying bastard replied in the sweetest of tones. “Yes! Surely there’s something even a man of your … refined tastes … might find palatable.”
Cedric walked to the bars of his cell and looked the buffoon straight in the eyes. “What I want, Mister Garvey … is for you to get your soulless, deceitful face out of my sight!”
Virgil’s eyes narrowed, but his lip crooked upwards. His response was horrifyingly calm. “Oh-ho-ho, Mister Curtis. If you were on our side, I think we’d have a lot of fun together. Sadly, that time has passed. And … so has the time for bargaining. From now on, you’ll do what I say. You might be naïve enough to think that being in this dungeon is the worst thing we could do to you. But you haven’t seen anything, yet.”
Cedric had a sinking feeling of dread. “What do you mean?”
He tried to maintain his countenance, but his body couldn’t stop from shaking. “What, then? Torture? You think breaking my bones will force me to obey? You obviously have no comprehension of how much mental focus it takes to design my ships. I’ll be of no use to you without my full faculties!”
He shouted the last few words, but Virgil ignored them. The despicable man had left mid-way through Cedric’s tirade, leaving him to wonder what else he had in store. His hands clenched around the bars of his cell, while beads of sweat oozed from his brow. He was terrified. Everything he said about being at full faculties was true, but … would Virgil understand that?
Minutes passed, giving Cedric’s stomach time to twist itself into anxious knots. At last, he heard the clomping of boots. Several of them. The Craftsman backed away, instinctively, ready to cower in the darkest corner of his cell. By the time he saw Virgil’s face appear in the light of his lantern, he noticed he brought two others with him.
The first was small, scrawny, and ragged, wearing nothing but a prisoner’s garb and a hood over his face. The second followed closely behind, prodding the first one forward with his oversized palm. The larger man was obese, with folds of leathery skin bulging around his waistline. He also wore something that covered his face. A piece of white cloth with holes cut around the eyes.
Cedric stared blankly, having no idea what to expect.
The obese man forced the smaller person’s hands through the bars and bound them. The emaciated figure slumped forward in pure resignation.
“What in Gaia’s name are you doing?”
Cedric didn’t mean to shriek, but the suspense was excruciating.
Virgil approached the small one and removed the hood. “I believe you two know each other, correct?”
Cedric recognized Mason Eckerd’s youngest son. “Adam!”
The boy was barely in his teenage years. Cedric remembered him as a handsome youth with flowing blond hair, but now his face was battered and bruised, and his lip was split open.
“Who … Mister Curtis, is that you?” The boy tried to open his eyes, but they were swollen shut. He used the bars for support and appeared to be on the verge of collapse.
Virgil spoke before Cedric could say anything. “Now that we’ve had introductions, it’s time to begin.”
Cedric was apoplectic. “Wait! What have you done to him? I won’t stand for this! I demand you release him. He needs medical attention!”
Without responding, the larger man uncoiled a whip from around his hip. It was barbed, the kind meant for flogging. The Craftsman’s eyes bulged when he realized what was about to occur. Before he could say anything, the man threw back his hand and struck the boy’s back. Blood curdling screams echoed off the cold stone walls.
Cedric ran to the bars and banged his fists against them. “Sadists! Monsters!”
He reached through the bars, wishing his arms were long enough to reach Virgil's neck, so he could squeeze the life right out of it.
But he wasn’t even close. He felt stupid and helpless. He sobbed, shedding tears of pure frustration. “How can you just stand there? How could you allow this innocent boy to be hurt like this?”
Virgil’s face was etched in stone. “Only I get to ask the questions, Mister Curtis. Are you willing to commit to finishing the Zounds design? I already told you: I’m not here to negotiate.”
Cedric opened his mouth, but froze. Was capitulation his only option? His soul for Adam’s life, with nothing in between? The sheer injustice was infuriating!
Meanwhile, Virgil ran out of patience. He nodded to the man with the whip, who once again struck the boy’s back. A fine mist of red sprayed as the barbs removed chunks of flesh.
The boy tried to scream, but it came out as a gurgling wheeze. Tears fell, and his face contorted. Cedric sank to his knees and grasped the boy’s hands. He couldn’t think. His mind was a mess, his face wet with tears. He wanted to shear apart the prison bars and take the beating for himself. But he could not. He could do absolutely nothing.
Again, the whip struck. This time, a chunk of flesh landed on Cedric’s paralyzed face. He didn’t even flinch. He was in shock. His body shook, but otherwise he couldn’t move. His eyes, strangely transfixed on a line of mucus hanging from Adam’s slack-open jaw. His brain couldn’t comprehend the nightmare. It was murder, right before his eyes! And he was powerless to stop it!
Cedric felt the boy’s hands go limp. Adam’s body sank, and his shoulders drooped against the bars. He had lost consciousness.
Cedric found his limit. He wrenched his mind from its state of shock and sprung to his feet. Never had he experienced such wanton cruelty! He screamed, sending rage and spittle toward the monster on the other side.
“Bastard! You’re killing him!”
Virgil responded with frightening tranquility. “Yes. And I’ll return each day with another, until you give me what I want. Angkor has many children, Mister Curtis. I wonder how many deaths you can bear?”
Again, the whip cracked loudly, ripping more of Adam’s back meat from his limp body.
“Damn you!” Cedric smashed his fists against the bars. “Damn you for this!”
He threw himself against the bars, ready to burst through by sheer force of will.
Virgil sloughed off Cedric’s rage with spine-chilling serenity. “As you know, I have nothing to fear from the damned. As for you, it’s time you decided. You must know the boy can’t take another strike. If you care for his life at all, you’ll commit your services to me with unwavering dedication. The Zounds design will be operational.”
Cedric hyperventilated with shallow breaths, just to contain his rage. The principles on which he denied the Zounds design no longer seemed important. Protecting his soul from demons meant nothing, if it was sure to be blackened by his own inaction, as he watched Virgil’s gruesome cruelty for days while doing nothing to end it. He knew Virgil had won, and he was willing to capitulate. This time. But he vowed that someday, he’d make this anathema of a man pay for what he had done. He would have his vengeance. He would have his blood!
The man with the whip threw back his hand, and Cedric cried out.
“Yes!”
It was just in time for Virgil to halt the strike with a raised forefinger.
His stone cold gaze cut through the bars more effectively than any of Cedric's futile poundings. The Craftsman peered back into Virgil’s monstrous eyes, seeing nothing but cold calculus. He was almost close enough to reach out and clench his hands around his throat. His body radiated hatred, which Virgil seemed to lap up with glee.
“Yes, what …?”
Cedric bared his teeth. “Yes, I will complete my design!”
Virgil’s tone was unwavering. “And what shall you need to complete your design?”
Cedric was dumbstruck. The hateful bastard made it so insultingly simple. He could no longer meet his petrifying stare. He looked away until his wits returned.
“I … I’ll need my schematics,” in between short breaths he swallowed against a lump in his throat. He could barely think against the tide of animosity gushing from his body. “And I’ll need tools: a writing instrument, slide rule, some textbooks, my calculatron—”
The devilish man looked stumped. “Your what?”
Cedric gritted his teeth as he explained. “It’s an adding machine of my own invention. It makes it easier to draft schematics, and … just bring whatever’s on the desk in my office!”
Virgil grinned, full of disgusting smugness. “Anything else?”
Cedric burned with injustice, but he realized it was his only chance for concessions. “Yes! More light, a change of clothes, some good food … and a mattress. With clean blankets!”
Virgil laughed. “Well, well … I wager you’ll be the most comfortable prisoner this dungeon’s ever—”
“Help the boy, ya damned fool!” With the pact sealed, he didn’t want to waste another moment with Virgil’s banter. “Are you listening? He needs medical attention, before he bleeds out. Now go!”
Virgil snapped his fingers, and the whale with the whip cut the bonds around Adam’s wrists. He then picked up the limp body like it was a sack of flour and quietly left the room.
Virgil shifted his gaze back to Cedric, and his eyes narrowed. “Just make sure you don’t deceive me. This was a pleasant conversation. But I promise you … you do not want to experience an unpleasant one.”
Cedric stewed, grasping the iron bars tightly until his knuckles turned white. The rage had subsided, but a liquid-hot loathing remained. Someday, he vowed to turn the tables.
“I won’t,” he promised, but Virgil had already gone. “Make sure the boy is taken care of! And bring me the things I asked for!”
He doubted anyone heard.