Magic Weaver

Chapter Thirty Eight(v2)

Chapter Thirty Eight

The Grandest Façade of All

            In the morning, at seven o clock, they came for the cook. Three soldiers, and Rafe came to fetch him. They stood outside his door, like death itself.

            “Cedric, you take one step toward this door and you’ll have ten rounds in your belly before you can think.” Rafe warned him. By his tone, it was obvious that the thought pleased Rafe.

            Cedric, as much as he longed to do something, knew when he was outgunned. When his palms were tied to touch nothing (and each other was included in that nothing), the weaving in his hands was nonexistent. And although he could weave with his feet, any attempt he made to actually accomplish something with them was pathetic. So he stepped back, and allowed the door of his cell to open without even hoping for some sort of miracle. Those didn’t exist.

            The cook was accepting. His expression was brave, and proud, until the very end. He didn’t plead or cry. And for that reason, Rafe lost the battle. He wanted the cook to feel fear, to feel bitterness toward Cedric for getting him into this. He wanted Cedric to experience hopelessness. But neither of them betrayed what a mess they were in on the inside. Therefore, Rafe didn’t receive the satisfaction he was hoping for.

            The door to Cedric’s cell closed, and he was left alone. He resisted the urge to run to the cell’s window to catch a desperate glimpse of the cook one last time. Cedric could feel Rafe waiting for just that. He kept a stone-faced façade until he knew they were gone.

            Then he wept.

            Cedric wept for the injustice of the world’s laws, for the tyranny of their king, for the evilness that resided in Rafe’s heart. It was too much to bear. Which one of his friends would die tomorrow? His new father? Ghost, the pitiful man Cedric once admired? Emily, his one and only love? This was horrible. It was all too horrible.

            “Joseph was a good man.” Jayson tried to comfort him. “He was a fine man.”

            Cedric, despite everything, didn’t admit to him that he was Simon. Maybe he never would. What was the point? Was it better to think that you were going to join your son, or that your son was with you now but soon wouldn’t be?

            All of these decisions. These thoughts. They were maddening.

            “Emily, I love you.” He choked. “I love you so much.” He wished he could truly be with her, not separated by a rock wall.

            “I love you too Cedric. And it’s okay. Everything will work out in the end.” Her voice was soft, muted by the vastness.

            Why would everything be okay? Apparently there was no justice in this world. No-one to right every wrong. Otherwise He would have smitten the king long ago.

            After a time, Rafe returned with a certain smugness Cedric loathed.

            “The cook started crying when he saw the gallows you know.” Rafe boasted. “He begged for mercy.”

            “We both know that’s not true.” Cedric stated evenly. He wouldn’t let Rafe loop him into breaking down as Ghost had.

            “Apparently the cook didn’t mean much to you.” Rafe reasoned in an attempt to bait him. 

            Cedric smirked from the shadows of his cage.

            “You don’t care enough to see for yourself, so I’m going to tell you what’s happening. I have ten guards with me that will shoot you without a moment’s hesitation. You make one wrong move, and you’ll join your dearly departed teacher. Now, I’m going to open the cell, and you’re going to come out, nice and easy. You’re coming with us.”