Downtown Druid

Book 2 Chapter 60: This is an Ugly Look for You

Mondego sat across from a roaring fire in the parlor of his mansion. It was midday, and the heat of the sun combined with that of the fire was sweltering, but he didn’t feel it.

“Another glass!” he said, causing his sweat drenched servants to jump.

One of them quickly moved to the table next to him and placed two ice cubes in the glass to his side.

Mondego smacked the glass with the side of his hand, sending it flying across the room and shattering against a nearby wall.

“Did I fucking ask for ice?”

“N-no sir. I just thought.”

“Just leave the fucking bottle and go.”

The man stood confused for a moment.

“I said GO! All of you! Get the fuck out!”

Mondego took a pull from the bottle, then casually tossed it into the fire, causing it to flare out for a moment before settling. He stood up, and walked toward the large chest he’d had placed on one side of the room. He opened the lid of it, and looked inside. It was filled with rats that had been frozen by magic that could only be dispelled by extreme heat. He took one out, tossed it into the fire. It screeched and attempted to scramble out of the flames, then died before it could do anything. Mondego sat next to the chest on the luxurious rug, grabbed another of the rats, and tossed it into the fire, watching a near exact re-enactment of the first rat’s suffering.

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. He’d already won. He was meant to be in money, women, drugs, and power for the rest of his life. He looked at the small bit of gold still left on his ring finger, and clenched his hand into a fist. He grabbed another rat and tossed it into the fire.

The deal was good, he didn’t regret it at all. He’d gained the affections of the woman he’d always wanted, the money he’d always coveted, and most importantly, the respect he’d always felt he’d deserved. He knew he was meant to be more than a carpenter like his father had been. He could feel it in his bones. As a child he’d fantasized that his father wasn’t really his father, but that his mother had spent an evening with a noble, maybe even someone on the council, but the resemblance wasn’t exactly something he could deny as he grew. As a young man he’d had dreams of being an adventurer. He was strong, and he knew he could be one of the greats, but instead he’d always found himself wrapped up in one of Dantes’s ideas.

There was always a fresh robbery, an easy mark, or a quick gold piece to be made, and those ideas paid out well more often than not. Who could blame him for focusing on that kind of work over being an adventurer? Dantes had taken advantage of his friendship, and everyone else’s in the gang. All the while he flaunted his relationship with Mercedes in front of him. He got to be the leader, to have the best woman, and even with her he still found time for whores. Not that he felt bad about that, Mercedes always looked to him for solace when they were having troubles.

Who knew how long things would’ve kept going that way if Dantes’s mother hadn’t died? He’d actually felt sad about that, she was a nice woman. Dantes’s behavior after she was gone changed things. He became reckless, and dangerous, even more than before. His eyes were always bloodshot, and his nose always had traces of fine white powder along its edges. He’d never done anything in moderation, but during that time he took everything to the extreme.

Mondego tossed another rat into the fire, listening to it scream. He’d saved them. Taking Godfrey’s deal had been the best decision he ever made for all of them. Best deal Godfrey had ever made too. Mondego had been an earner, sent him everything he asked for, made his offerings regularly and without issue. Still the bastard refused to intervene directly. Couldn’t even save Danglars and he’d been doing work for him constantly.

He grabbed a handful this time and tossed them all in at once. He let his mind clear to the sound of their screams for a few moments before his thoughts started turning again. The Fingers too, didn’t know what they were missing. They delayed and denied him his right. He was better than them. All of them. Argenta definitely had some kind of deal, just as he did, otherwise how could she have risen as she had.

Dantes had help too. That much was clear. He certainly hadn’t been able to command rats and roaches before, or grow plants, or survive having an arm removed. He was capable, Mondego had to admit that, but this was completely different. He was supposed to be gone. That was part of the deal. Dantes was a sacrifice that needed to be made so that he could rise. Godfrey had insisted that he live, that the risk of him being alive would make his rewards all the greater. What did that matter if he’d come back to take everything away? Mondego pictured the moment he’d pushed that ladder off the roof while Dantes was on it. He’d expected to feel some sense of regret. They’d been friends since they were children after all. All he’d felt was elation. He still woke up smiling when he had that dream about pushing him from it. Sometimes he could swear he could still feel the weight of push in the palms of his hands.

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He heard footsteps approaching.

“Go. The fuck. Away.”

“You can’t avoid what’s going on forever,” said Mercedes.

Mondego rubbed his forehead and grabbed another rat to toss into the fire, ignoring her.

“Your lieutenants are refusing to listen to your orders. Many of them are making excuses to not send what they owe or have responded to your commands with silence.

Another toss, another rat’s scream as it died.

“A number of your men have deserted or are looking to join new gangs or form their own, taking small pieces of everything you’ve done with you as they do. The men that you wanted followed, the Shadow Cats, have completely disappeared.”

Two rats this time, another burst of screams, then silence.

“Many of the smaller gangs on the fringes have begun attacking you as well. They claim they have the right as we struck first. My guess is that Dantes and some associates made the attacks and framed us.”

Another rat went into the fire.

“We also need to find a new magister to make deals with the docking authority. Without Danglars we don’t have the in with them that we used to. There are a few we’ve had dealings with in the past that I think would make good replacements, but I’d prefer to find someone we can truly own, not just someone we bribe.”

No rats were tossed this time, Mondego just sat on the floor in silence, staring at his hand.

“A number of midtowners have refused to pay up their protection or let our men use their businesses for storage. We tried to make an example of a few of them, but that seems to have only solidified the resistance.”

He stayed silent, then made another halfhearted toss of a rat into the fire.

Mercedes approached and began gently running her fingers through his hair.

“We can come back from this my love. We’ve risen so high thanks to you. Thanks to your strength, your wit, and recovering from this will be so much easier than the climb was. You just need to show strength. We can send the extra men protecting the manor to go and whip the midtowners back into line. We can visit each of your lieutenants personally, and show them just who they’re fucking with. Once they’re in line we can crush those smaller gangs that are attacking us.”

Mondego reached into the chest, but found it empty.

“That won’t solve the main problem.”

“He’ll make a false move eventually love. He’s already made several that we’ve been able to take advantage of. He has advantages now, it's true, but even those can be handled. How effective can he be now that you’ve taken his hand?”

“Effective enough that my lieutenants desert me, my men flee, those that owe me refuse to pay, and the neighboring gangs are closing in on every side.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to take his other hand and both of his feet next time.” she chuckled at her joke and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Come, let’s have a meal. We’ll get you some coffee and water, then we can start fixing everything up as it should be again.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer to go out and spend our gold? I’ve never known you to want such an active part in things before.”

“Of course I’d prefer to be shopping, but you need help, and I’m here to give it to you. We can win darling, we just need to take active steps now before it’s too late.”

“Take active steps, eh? Have my guards reduced to lessen my defenses here. Have me leave the safety of my manor to make me more vulnerable to attack. I’m not sure you have my best interests in mind.”

Mercedes removed her hand from his shoulder. “The drink and the heat are starting to affect you my love. Come, let’s at least get you some water.”

“Perhaps with a dose of poison?”

Mercedes paused for a moment and sneered at him. “This is an ugly look for you Mondego.”

Mondego laughed. “You’re used to thinking me ugly, this should be nothing new. If you didn’t think I was ugly then why were you with Dantes for so long? Why did you wait until he was completely out of the picture to be openly with me?”

“You have no reason to be insecure about my affections. I was young and foolish, I didn’t realize your quality until it was truly able to shine. If I could only switch the thoughts I had then with those I have now then I would’ve been with you always.”

“So you say,” he went to stand up, and shook a bit on his feet as he did so.

Mercedes moved forward to steady him.

He whipped around, quick as a snake, and smacked her with his full strength across the face.

To her, the blow sounded like a thunderclap, and her vision blurred and darkened for several seconds before she realized she was laying across the ground, clutching her cheek.

“I don’t need your help. I am not a child. I know what’s best for us, and for midtown. I’ll take care of everything myself.” He looked down into her eyes with a look of contempt on his face. “Now, get the fuck out of my sight.” He turned his back to her, and went back to staring into the fire. The scent of burnt fur and flesh now filled the parlor completely.

Mercedes picked herself up, and said nothing. She silently left the room, and climbed the stairs up to her chambers. The servants avoided her gaze, but she knew they knew. Knew that he’d struck her and that filled her with rage. The contempt she’d seen in his eyes, the thought of it made her flush red. She’d seen that look. Had known it since she was a child. It was the look you wore when you looked at trash, at filth. She moved to her closet and retrieved her makeup, then began to calmly cover the harsh red mark on her skin. Once that was done, she took out a pen and paper, and wrote a letter.