Chapter 69: It would make us feel better

Name:Downtown Druid Author:
Chapter 69: It would make us feel better

Gaspard woke in the dark and for a moment, he wondered if he was dead. He didnt feel any pain, which was a stark contrast to how he felt when hed finally passed out. How he felt while Dantes was striking him. He tried to move, and found that he couldnt. The feeling of ropes on his arms and legs straining against him helped him to realize that no, he wasnt dead.

A single flame appeared at the end of a finger of bone, and descended in front of him onto the tip of a candle that took to the flame easily, illuminating Dantes dark form in the middle of a room almost danker than the one that Gaspard had just been sleeping in.

I was worried you wouldnt wake up for a moment there. Good thing you had that potion I could pour down your throat.

Gaspard cursed under his breath. Thats why he wasnt in pain anymore. What do you want? Going to beat me near to death again?

Possibly. I have some questions I need answered first.

Why would I do that? Youre just going to kill me anyway.

Dantes let out a cruel laugh. You think youre worth that effort? No, I have a contact on a Frasheid ship. Deals in slaves. I told him I could haul you in and sell you as an unmarked slave, no questions asked. Even offered me some coin since theyre below quota. Dantes was lying, but he savored the fear on Gaspards face as he spoke. Or, I could turn you into the guard. The Pit is better than being a Fresheid slave. Hell, at least you can still get dust down there. It all depends on how you cooperate.

Gaspard tested his ropes again, trying to be subtle, but they didnt budge. Dantes had always been an expert with knots so he wasnt surprised. Fineask your fucking questions you piece of shit.

Dantes stepped toward him and gave him a light slap on the face. Theres a good little halfling. He leaned back and sat on a chair across from Gaspard, leaning just far enough that his face was lit by candlelight. My first question is why?

Gaspard swallowed. Why wha-

Dantes glare stopped him from asking the obviously stupid question.The source of this content no/v(el)bi((n))

Listen man, it wasnt my idea. It wasnt anyones idea. After the job with the Dock Sharks safehouse, when you went to hide some of the haul for later and the rest of us went out to celebrate You remember that?

Dantes grimaced. He remembered sneaking away to be alone with a brick of dust he didnt want to share. Yes, I do.

We were hanging out, just smoking, drinking, at the Middle Child, the tavern.

Dantes nodded. Get the fuck on with it.

We got a weird fucking invitation. It had real gold on the edges and everything. A man in black gave it to us. On it was directions.

Dantes stayed quiet. Gaspard was a good liar, if he wanted to make something up hed have been able to come up with something much more believable than what he was saying.

His words I assume?

Gaspard spat out a bit of blood, and nodded.

What happened after that?

"Well, no one really committed to anything. We all thought we'd just think about it. Then the job with the carriage happened, and Mondego took the choice out of our hands. After that we had another meeting with the guy. We all shook his hand, and the three of them were marked. Their left hands, a ring of gold around their middle finger. They have to offer to the God of Greed to fill it, and they will continue to find their ambitions met and their desires fulfilled. Least that was what he told em."

Dantes thought of the godmarks on his own body, and how they functioned. The blessings that they were. The only difference was that when his ran out, his luck wouldnt necessarily run out with them. For Mondego, Danglars, and Mercedes he bet the consequences would be much more dire. His mother had warned him of the God of Greed when he was younger. It was one of the few things she and his father had agreed on. The God of Greed could grant tremendous blessings, but each time you made an offering to him, it needed to be greater than the last one, and when you were no longer able to make your commitments to him and you found yourself skewered at the end of someones blade, your soul would be his forever. To be counted like a coin, smelted into gold bars, or traded with the Hells.

You didnt receive a mark?

He shook his head. No. The man simply gave me a pouch of gold and told me to help them along. I counted myself as the lucky one. Money in hand is always more valuable than vague promises.

Apparently not in this case, eh?

Gaspard gave a frustrated groan in response.

When was the last time you heard from any of them?

I havent seen Mondego or Mercedes for years. Last time we crossed paths I asked for a loan and they had me beaten. Greedy bastards.

And Danglars?

He got me out of some trouble when the guard caught me with some dust. He was always the only one of you all worth a damn.

What about the man with the golden face?

He shivered. No. And thank all the gods for that.

Dantes stood there, looking at Gaspard for a few moments. Hed reached the end of his questions. There was nothing else he could learn from him, no other information he could get. In front of him sat a Mutt covered in his own dried blood and filth. There was no value in killing him. Even if he let him go, the guard would catch him shortly after. To go any further than he had, would be meaningless.

It would make us feel better, noted Jacopo, sensing his thoughts.

Dantes smiled. That it would.