Remittance (The Magician – Chapter Two)

This is the second chapter of the serialization novel I am working on, The Magician. To read the first chapter if you missed it, click here – Ignace.

Want to listen to this instead of read it? Check out M. Ray Davis’ podcasted version!

Trigger warning: This has some violence in it.

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Remittance

“Kneel,” Lorenzo commanded, grasping the pendant he wore between two of his fingers.

The director and the magician were deep in the bowels of the basement of the rented theater house. Lorenzo had paid handsomely to have this area for his own use, just as he tried to do at every theater on the tour for years and years. Anyone who was not connected with his tour was barred entrance to rooms he had designated as private. He simply reminded the old-world patrons and those employed at said theaters that the magic of his shows needed time to be created away from the eyes of non-magicals.

They believed him. That power of persuasion worked in his favor.

The reality was that he used these areas clandestinely to remind his performers of their places in his entourage. Everyone was forbidden by their contracts to speak of the atrocities that they had received within the confines of those walls. It was part of the magic Lorenzo forced upon them when he bound them. It was how he continued to force their compliance without expending a great deal of his magic. For many, the threat alone of remittance was enough to keep them in line. But sometimes, sometimes he was forced to take harsher measures.

That moment, it was Ignace who needed the prompting to remember his position. Unlike most of the performers, Ignace never gave up without a fight. He had that kind of freedom. He had that kind of magic within his veins. It allowed him to rebel, if only for a fleeting few moments.

Ignace inhaled sharply and shook his head, fighting against the magic that Lorenzo was trying to force upon him. He knew Lorenzo’s power would impel his submission eventually. He was determined to tire the man out as he always did before Lorenzo’s brand of magic strong-armed him into capitulation.

Lorenzo shook his head and clicked his tongue as he glared at the magician with his dark brown eyes.

“You make this harder on yourself every time,” he sneered. “If you would just give in, it would be easier for us all. But yet, you remain so stubborn and defiant, ever the intractable magician you are. I enjoy these little games, but they do eventually grow so wearisome.”

He stood as straight as an arrow and pressed the pendant firmly between his fingers. 

“Kneel!” he commanded.

Ignace glared at him, pushing firmly against the magic of the command as he stood his ground. He knew he would tire soon, worn out as he was from the performances he was compelled to enact. The full power of the pendant Lorenzo wore was how Ignace succumbed to this in the first place, but he gained a certain satisfaction in making his master work for his submission. He was determined to make Lorenzo use all of his powers as well.

“You will pay dearly for this impertinence,” Lorenzo scoffed as he glared at Ignace once more. “You know this as much as I do. One would think you would give in, given my command of you all of this time.”

Ignace smirked as he stared at the director. 

“I am merely reminding you that you don’t have the command of me that you wish you had. My powers grant me that freedom, though minute.”

Lorenzo growled in anger as he placed his entire hand firmly around the pendant and glared back. He detested the lack of control he had over this particular subordinate. He channeled all of his power into the command.

“Kneel!” he roared.

The magician tried hard to fight against the dictate once more, but this time he did as he was ordered to. He continued to stare at his captor as he fell to his knees, spotting a hint of tiredness that flashed briefly across the director’s face. That gave him a frisson of joy that ran deep within him, for he knew that while he was exhausted, he had also tired Lorenzo as well. He dared not show that amusement on his face though. He was already in for a stiff penance as it were.

Lorenzo stepped forward dramatically so that he towered over the kneeling Ignace and stared down at him. There was a smirking sneer on the director’s face, but Ignace saw the weariness in the bags under the man’s eyes and in the set line of his clenched jaw.

That smug satisfaction that ran deep within him reared up once more.

“Why must you make this so difficult, dear Godding?” Lorenzo asked. “Your life would be unexacting if you just learned your place. You make it harder on us both.”

Ignace refused to answer, just as Lorenzo knew he would. He simply stared up at the man with a scowl.

The director straightened himself to his usual ramrod posture and looked up at the others, who had witnessed the entire interaction wordlessly. All of them knew better than to intervene.

“I think thirty should suffice today. After all, we will be traveling and he will have time to garner his stamina. He can remember this irrationality for a few days.”

With that command, Lorenzo turned on his heels and strode out of the room as elegantly as he could muster, leaving the magician kneeling on the cold stone floor. Two mute lackeys stepped forward to strip Ignace of his white shirt and the sleeveless undershirt he wore beneath.

Malatesta’s majordomo, Vittorio Ancilotto, sighed as he closed his eyes, gripping the whip in his hands. He seemed to hate this part of his position, but he was also at the mercy of the theater producer and was compelled to do what he was commanded. The beads about his own neck made sure of that. He cracked the whip and began to mete out the required punishment, using power in the lashes despite his small stature.

Lorenzo began his climb of the stairs at the end of the hallway, ascending back up into the more comfortable setting of his lush lifestyle. He paused at the third step, anticipating the first yelp of pain. It was a long wait, as usual.

After fifteen snaps of the whip, the first anguished cry reached his ears and he laughed with delectation. He was still smiling as he continued to climb the stairs upwards as the whip continued to crack and the shouts of pain followed each thwack.

As Lorenzo climbed into the rented car that would take him to his penthouse suite hotel room, he stroked the pendant in his hands, pressing it between his forefinger and thumb. He sighed loudly, letting the facade of the collected director fall away. Exhaustion became the expression he wore as he leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes for the short ride to his rest. These power plays his star act enacted every time he was punished were beginning to take their toll on his magical prowess, but Lorenzo knew he could not exert much more power over the magician. He was already pushing the limits of his own powers. 

One day, Ignace Godding would learn that he could not cross him, Lorenzo thought. But until then, he would enjoy the struggle of power the two enacted as he could. It was one of the many perks of his lifestyle.

After all, he had the magician to thank for giving him such popularity to begin with.

Click here for the next chapter – Vanessa

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Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction written by K. S. Wood, and thus is copyrighted 2023. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.  No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.  All rights reserved.

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