She’ll understand soon enough.
But for now, let her hate me. Let her fear me. The unravelling of her heart will make my time here only more interesting.
Talking of which, it seems I am now the newly anointed “King of the Diggers”.
No, that’s wrong. The proletariat do not have Kings; they have gaffers, head honchos, bossmen—or bosswomen. I’m sure this class of human offers equal opportunities.
Or maybe not. I haven’t spent time enough with them to know.
C’est la vie.
I’m the Boss.
And what I’m actually supposed todowith this rabble?
It matters little to me, but I am aware of the hundreds of bleary, bloodshot eyes focused in my direction.
How tiresome.
A greasy,tête de noeud,of a man comes scuttling toward me.
“Yes?” My stare stops him from stepping too close. I need not have his odor in my nose, more than it already is.
“Uh, sir. The name is Danny,” he sniffs. “I ain’t no fan of the last Boss, so, like, I’m ready to be your go-to, if you want?”
Ah, he’s a rat, the kind that thrives in the shadows of stronger men, feeding on the scraps of whatever kingdom is currently collapsing.
I find him utterly repulsive.
“Merci,Daniel. That is convenient, because I am in need of some assistance. Bring me a dozen more men.” I snap my fingers imperiously. He jumps to my command and I wait quite patiently until a group of rough-looking thugs are positioned in front of me.
Ugh, the trials of power.
“I am not a butcher,” I announce. “And have no desire to kill a man who fought so…spiritedly. But, I anticipate your former bossman will act disagreeably on waking,n’est-ce pas?”
They look at me like a dumb herd of oxen. Once more for the idiots. “I assume this previous boss will want to cause me trouble.”
The men shift nervously until the rat speaks again. “Ah, right. Yeah, Boss. Taliesin’s gonna be a real pain in your ass.”
As I predicted. “Then I think we must have him restrained for the foreseeable future. Is there such a place in the, er, Diggers block?”
Daniel blinks, still a little confused. Then he leans in, smelling of a desperation so sharp it’s almost edible. “I guess there’s the cage?”
“Is that a suggestion or a question?” I ask him, but when I see his confused face, I wave a hand. “Never mind, continue.”
“Er, right. The Bossman has a double cell. One side is, like, yours, and the other is a cage which you can lock people in. He’s had his little Elite slut locked in there for weeks.”
He has? Interesting.
She will be so relieved to be freed byme. Grateful.
Very good. I clap my hands together. “That soundsparfait, Daniel. Please have your men carry him there.”
The ugly man’s chest puffs out when I place him in a position of authority. Insecure egotism is so easy to manipulate. “It seems you are a man I can rely on, Daniel.”
“Yes, sir. I mean, er, Bossman.”
“And so, where are the keys to this aforementioned cave? Cage?”
