Love and Betrayal (The Eternal Dungeon: Rebirth #2) ¶ DRM-free multiformat e-book: epub, html, mobi/Kindle, pdf, doc

"'I agreed to become a Seeker because I believe you're right that if I find an acceptable outlet for my violent desires – ordering punishments only when it would be in the best interests of the prisoner to receive pain – that will stop me from losing control of myself again. But I'll never enjoy other people's sufferings. You mustn't think I'm a monster like that.'"

As a torturer learns the art of questioning prisoners, he discovers that the word "love" can have a darker meaning than he had supposed.

Idolizing a mentor who teaches him to place first the best interests of his prisoners, young Elsdon Taylor gradually realizes that the High Seeker of the Eternal Dungeon is hiding a secret. Now Elsdon must confront the man whose work determines the future of the dungeon's prisoners.

In doing so, Elsdon must also confront a demon from his past.

This suspenseful novella (short novel) can be read on its own or as the second story in the "Rebirth" volume of The Eternal Dungeon, an award-winning speculative fiction series set in a nineteenth-century prison where the psychologists wield whips. Friendship, family, gay love, and rebellion are intertwining plotlines in the series.

EXCERPT

The corridor was cold. It was always cold. Elsdon had been startled when he first learned that the prisoners being searched were the only dungeon inhabitants granted the luxury of a furnace. He had grown accustomed since then to the dungeon's autumn chill, which remained the same year-round.

Much like its master. He stole a look at the High Seeker as they walked side by side down the corridor between the prisoners' cells, passing an occasional pair of guards flanking the door to a cell that was in use.

"You must never lie to a prisoner," the High Seeker said. "The Code is quite strict about that, and equally strict in its penalties for violation of this rule. You must never lie, though you may often be called upon to mislead."

"What is the difference?" Elsdon asked, his mind only half fastened upon what the High Seeker was saying. His thoughts were instead upon the stiffness of Layle's posture, which he remembered from the day they first met. Layle had only relaxed that stiffness once during Elsdon's imprisonment, when Elsdon was being beaten; it had given Elsdon a mistaken impression of the High Seeker's character. Since that time, Elsdon had seen the High Seeker relaxed and informal many times – but only when he was alone with Elsdon, in the privacy of Layle's cell.

"I misled you when you were my prisoner," the High Seeker replied. "I led you to believe that I was searching you for the truth about the crime you were accused of committing, when in fact I was setting up the conditions by which you would break yourself and admit your wrongdoing. Were you resentful of my misleading when you learned of it?"

Elsdon did not have to think back that far. He shook his head at once. "I knew that you had done it for my sake."

"But if I had lied to you – if I had told you that my questions to you were aimed at my breaking you – would that have made a difference in how you regarded me?"

Elsdon nodded slowly. They had passed into darkness: no lamps lit this end of the corridor, and no guards stood in front of the doors here. The High Seeker paused before one of the doors and pulled his ring of keys from his inner pocket. He slipped off one of the keys and handed it to Elsdon.

"This is a master key," he said in a low tone. "It will open any cell where prisoners are searched. Under ordinary circumstances you will not need to use it – the guards will let you in and out of any cell where a prisoner is present – but you may need it in an emergency. Keep the key under your pillow when you sleep and within your inner pocket when you're awake, and never allow a prisoner to guess that you hold it. Some prisoners would kill you to possess that key."

His voice was matter-of-fact. Elsdon carefully threaded the key onto his own key-ring, which so far carried only the keys to his cell and Layle's. He was slipping the ring back into his inner pocket when Layle gestured toward the door they stood before.

Elsdon leaned forward and fumbled with the lock in the dark corridor. He did not succeed in turning the key until Layle, stepping further down the corridor, retrieved a lamp from where it hung on the wall and brought it over to illuminate the door. Elsdon had just time enough to see what was written above the door before he stepped inside and Layle's light caught the contents of the interior. Then Elsdon forgot to breathe.

The room was slightly larger than a breaking cell, but colder; the cell did not end against a furnace-warmed wall, as a breaking cell would, but instead against the same cold stone that lined the other walls. Upon this stone hung black objects of varying sizes. They were too far hidden into the shadows for Elsdon to catch more than a glimpse of them: something narrow and pointed, something else long and sharp, something else blunt and hard . . .

His mind was not upon the wall decorations. All of his attention was focussed upon the great table in the midst of the room, and the straps at its head and foot.

He felt Layle's hand upon his shoulder, and he jerked away from the touch automatically. Then he forced himself to remember that he was a Seeker. This was his workplace; he ought not to be reacting as though he were a prisoner being brought here. He sucked in several breaths of chill air, then walked forward and inspected the rack more closely.

From the books Layle had instructed him to read, Elsdon knew that racks came in many shapes. This one was of a simple design. The foot of it held a fixed bar with straps on it for the ankles; the head of the rack held a moveable bar with straps for the wrists. The most impressive feature of the rack was not the bars or straps but the giant wheel which controlled the moveable bar. It was placed flat against the head of the rack and was nearly as high as a man. Approaching it, Elsdon found that his chin barely rose over it, and his arms must be spread nearly to full width to span the circle. The wheel led to a mechanism that was unintelligible to Elsdon, but he could see that the movement of the wheel was divided into exact intervals by a series of notches hidden from the view of any prisoner who lay upon the rack. Indeed, only the guard controlling the rack would be able to see the notches, Elsdon decided, peering down at the hidden control. The levels inscribed upon the control went from zero to ten, and four notches quartered each level.

His gaze wandered back to the moveable bar, and from there to the straps. He swallowed.

"How much does this stretch the prisoner?" he heard himself ask in a hollow voice.

"Hold onto a strap and see," the High Seeker suggested.

Moving cautiously round to the side of the rack, Elsdon picked up one of the straps; it was made of calfskin and was soft to the touch. He took firm hold of the strap, then braced himself.

The High Seeker, standing now at the wheel, turned it minutely. There was a click, and the strap tugged slightly in Elsdon's hand, as a child might tug at the hand of a parent.

Elsdon looked over at the High Seeker, startled. "That didn't hurt!"

"It's more impressive when accompanied by the lecture of a Seeker, explaining the terrible effects of the machine," Layle said dryly. "But no, the rack's primary purpose is not to hurt the prisoner – it is to drive fear into the prisoner. We use it only on the worst prisoners, the ones who have broken the Code repeatedly and without remorse. Such prisoners are unlikely to break through pain alone; fear is the best weapon we can use against them."

Elsdon let the strap drop and went over to Layle's side. The wheel had turned over to the first notch, one quarter of the way from zero to one. "But is the rack dangerous to the prisoner?"

"Not at the lower levels. At the higher levels . . . In theory, a healthy man should not receive permanent damage if he is placed at level ten. But we cannot always know the full state of health of our prisoners, despite the dungeon healer's careful examination of their medical records. We have had prisoners suffer heart death while on the rack."

Again, his voice was matter-of-fact. Elsdon gave him a sharp look. After a moment, Layle added, "All rackings must be approved by me, and I rarely permit Seekers to take their prisoners beyond level three. The primary point of this room, as I say, is not to cause pain, but to cause fear. Hence the decorations." He waved his hand toward the walls.

The lamp, which Layle had laid upon the groin-high bed of the rack, did not quite shed its light upon the walls. Elsdon had to go over to the wall and touch one of the objects before he could be sure of what hung there. Then he looked back at Layle and said, in a voice that he hoped was steady, "These are from the old dungeon?"

"The royal dungeon that existed in Yclau before the Eternal Dungeon was formed? No, those were destroyed at the time that the was first issued. These belong to me."

Elsdon stared at him, his hand dropping from the black iron. "You collect instruments of ?"

"Antique ones." Layle's voice was bland. "Some of the dealers who sell the books I own also sell objects such as these. Hung here, they make a great impression upon prisoners entering this cell. We've had prisoners break the moment they saw these instruments—"

"—thus saving you from having to rack the prisoners. Yes, I see." Elsdon ran his hand over the iron, which was thin at one end, but gradually grew into a globular shape. At the other end of the instrument, a pair of long handles regulated by a notched bar allowed the instrument to be slowly opened. "What is this?" Elsdon asked.

The High Seeker stepped forward and slid his palm lightly over the surface of the cold metal, as a man might slide his hand along a cheek. "This," he said, "is the Swelling Globe. It is no longer in use in most countries of the world, though it continues to be used in Vovim – this is a Vovimian model."

"The books you had me read say that the Vovimian torturers are the most barbaric men of that barbarian culture," commented Elsdon.

The High Seeker's gaze did not stray from the object he was stroking. "The books are right. If you want to know what Yclau's dungeon was like in the years before the Code was compiled, you need only look to Vovim's Hidden Dungeon. The Vovimians continue to practice methods of breaking that all civilized countries have abandoned."

"How is the Swelling Globe used?"

For the first time, Layle looked over at Elsdon. His hand dropped from the metal. "It was used in the prisoners' orifices," he said coolly. "I will lend you a book that describes the exact nature of its use. Do you have any other questions while we are here?"

"Yes," said Elsdon. "I'm wondering whether the question you were afraid I'd ask earlier was whether you ever take love-mates."

His school days were not long over; he could still remember vividly the varied expressions on his schoolmasters' faces when he would unexpectedly ask questions that would turn a class discussion upon its head. Some of his schoolmasters had been angry; others, for reasons he had not fully understood at the time, had been pleased. He now knew, as he had not known in those days, that this gift for being able to take other people by surprise was one of his qualifications for being a Seeker. Yet it was still startling to see Layle suddenly jerk his head away, and to know that he had succeeded in catching the High Seeker off-guard.

After a moment, the High Seeker said in a detached voice, "As I stated earlier, I do not consider it wise for a senior Seeker to enter into bonds with a Seeker he supervises."

"But you supervise all of the Seekers – does that mean you never take a love-mate? Surely the Code doesn't require the High Seeker to be celibate. If it did, then it would spell out so important a rule more clearly."

He waited breathlessly for the next few moments, trying to read what he could from Layle's rigid posture – the High Seeker's face was still turned away. Then the High Seeker moved.

Not toward him; away from him, rounding the head of the rack so that he stood half-hidden by the opposite side of the table. When this was done, he turned his face back. His eyes were now as cool as they ever were, dark under the dim lamplight.

"It was a personal decision," the High Seeker said impassively, "and as such is not a proper subject for conversation during my on-duty hours. Do you have any other questions? If not, then I must start my preparations for searching my prisoner tonight."

His tone was dismissive. Elsdon felt desperation well within him, coalescing into a hardness inside his throat.

"Please," he said, keeping his voice soft, "you must know why I'm asking this. Even if you don't want— If you want me to go away, I will, but I need to know whether it bothers you. That I feel this way. If you think it's wrong for me to feel this – if it's a violation of my duty as a Seeker or as your friend – I could try to stop myself—"

He broke off. As he was speaking, he had taken a step toward the High Seeker, following Layle's path over to the side of the rack. Now the High Seeker moved again, turning to round the corner at the foot of the rack, so that he remained half-hidden from Elsdon.

Elsdon possessed several qualities which qualified him to be a Seeker, but the most important was this: he could read words and gestures to understand what lay beneath them. He had not used that skill on all occasions in his life. His strong desire to please his father had blinded him, making him incapable of recognizing the truth about his father's abusive nature. And there had been times – more times than Elsdon liked to think of – when his wild anger against a bully-boy blinded him to the boy's better nature. But discernment was a skill that had served him well more than once in the schoolyard, and now, without warning, it came into play once more.

Few other men, had they been standing in that room, would have understood Layle's withdrawal to be anything other than an indication that the High Seeker wished to remain distant. But Elsdon – his mind adding up the dim light, the height of the rack, and the height of the High Seeker – recognized what those other men would have missed.

His breath whistled in. The High Seeker stiffened yet further. Speaking softly, as though uttering sacred words, Elsdon said, "You want me."