"Bow to a rebel's demands?" asked the duke incredulously. "Why on Earth would I want to do that?"
"My lord, the people are a fickle beast. We need their willing support if we are to be successful in our... endeavours."
"Huh... Our endeavours, he says." Thought the duke to himself. "What does this halfwit know about my plans?" To the advisor, he said: "Have the criers announce that I will be making a speech in upper lake district at four of the clock today. Inform the guards that any residents who don't attend are to be arrested."
"But, my lord..." Began the advisor.
"One more word, and I will have you strung up for being a rebel sympathiser. Now GO!" Roared the duke in a fury. Just then, the captain of the guard burst into the duke's study.
"Milord, we've found evidence of the rebels using that house as an outpost." he panted. The duke faced him, narrowing his eyes and licking his lips in anticipation.
"Carry on. Where is this evidence you speak of?"
"Milord, about four or five hours by the water clock after you left, some people who appeared to be upper nobility approached the scene, and began searching around for the culprits. Seeing our boot prints, they quickly ran inside. After a few moments, they emerged with large packs on their backs, dressed as travelling merchants. I informed a detachment of the watch, and we apprehended two of the men after incriminating documents were found among their baggage. They await milord's attention in the torture chamber."
"Excellent." Replied the duke with a wolfish smile.
******
The duke stood in the torture chamber, taking in the two slumped figures in the center of the room, one still breathing and the other ominously still.
"Who was responsible for searching the prisoners?" He asked quietly, eyeing the small poisoned blade that had been taken out of the dead prisoner's side.
"Please, milord, don't hurt me. That always used to be Johnson's job." Whimpered an underfed man from a bloodied mouth filled with newly broken teeth, testament to the duke's displeasure.
"Who the hell is Johnson?" Swore the duke.
"He was the last gaoler, milord. I'm just an undergaoler who wasn't taught nothing." Said the unfortunate man. The duke walked over to the wall containing the torture implements, and chose a metal studded whip. "Please..." Began the undergaoler, before receiving a lash across his face, blood spraying from his ruined mouth with the force of the blow.
"Be thankful I'm a merciful man, wretch." Said the duke. "I'll only give you ten lashes for your incompetence, and a salt bath besides." The duke, however, was an unpredictable man rather than a merciful one, and carried on with the beating until his arm fell limp to his side, such was the depth of his anger. When he finally stopped, he stooped to listen to the half muttered prayers from the prisoner's mouth. To his surprise, he heard none, he only saw the man's eyes burning with a new desire: Revenge. The duke had no time to react as the man jerked his head up, catching him full in the face and breaking his nose. "You lying filth. I hope they hang you and let the crows eat your eyes!" Said the prisoner in fury.
"Your death will be slow, I promise that." Choked out the duke between the blood clogging his throat and the reflex tears streaming from his eyes.
"The only time your promises mean anything is when you plan on inflicting pain! You're a sadistic tyrant with a blatant disregard for anything but a pursuit for power!" Screamed out the prisoner, no longer caring for his life as he saw the duke advancing, clutching his nose with one hand and a flanged mace in the other. "Justice will prevail!" He managed to say, moments before his skull was crushed and the duke reeled away from his ruined corpse, cursing all the while.
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