Page 3 of Risen for a Tower


  Chapter 3 - No Quarter

  Ethan had lived with his grandfather for the better part of his forty years, since a sleep-depraved and speeding semi-truck driver pushing his delivery deadlines careened across an interstate divider and killed his mother and father in a crushed ball of iron wreckage several weeks after Ethan’s tenth birthday. The truck driver lost his license. He almost went to jail. But Cedrick suspected the freight company who employed the driver shouldered most all of the fault. Cedrick knew that company had kept that driver too long upon the road, that they employed only the least experienced and trained to cut costs. So Cedrick stretched his influence through his many channels until he saw that freight company declare bankruptcy. Cedrick then purchased all of that old company’s equipment for pennies on the dollar before storing it all away to forever rot in one of his yard’s dark warehouses.

  Those thirty years gave Ethan no evidence to deny the faults those who knew Cedrick Pyle well claimed tainted the tower-builder’s soul. Ethan would agree with anyone who cited Cedrick as petty, vindictive, indifferent, and when it came to competition, both dishonorable and cruel. But Ethan was family, and he had a rare perspective of Cedrick in the twenty years since the death of the magnate’s wife. Such perspective showed Ethan much in his grandfather to admire - a dedication to work, a discipline for purpose, and an unflagging thirst to do all in his power to insure that the world ran according to an organized schedule lest it should fall into chaos.

  Ethan stood in several more layers of coats and wondered if Cedrick’s will knew any rival. Only a few hours earlier, the old man had dismissed another architect and his construction crew for hesitating to add one level more to his leaning tower. Only a few hours later that afternoon, and a new crew toiled in the heights no matter the cold and the wind to do what they could to add one more addition to Cedrick’s tower.

  Ethan’s eyes burned in the howling cold as he squinted towards the tower’s peak and watched the bundled construction crew move stiffly about their business. He wondered where men willing to work in such conditions came from. He wandered what language they spoke, if his grandfather, who was always suspicious of any contractor, had hired both a foreman and a translator to check on such a crew’s progress. More than anything else, Ethan wondered what turned the crew braving such a painful chill on such a leaning tower so desperate.

  “Stop staring at those men, boy!” Cedrick clapped to snatch Ethan’s attention. “If you stare too long at them, those men are going to think you’re having second thoughts about putting them up there. You never want to let anyone working for you think you ever have second thoughts if you don’t want them to take advantage of you.”

  Cedrick peeked at his golden wristwatch. Ethan wondered how many such watches his grandfather had distributed to the world so that so many supervisors and dock hands could sync their days according to his grandfather’s desire.

  “How many have you seen already, Ethan?”

  Ethan shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “Seen how many of what?”

  “The squatters, boy,” Cedrick shook his head. “I’m over nine decades old. You might not realize it, but I’m not going to be around forever. Open your eyes. You can’t tell me you haven’t seen one trespasser peeping on us from a warehouse window.”

  “How many of you seen?”

  Cedrick wheezed. “I’ve seen three heads peeking from the corners in the last ten minutes with my old eyes. And I’ve seen enough discarded cans and bottles to remove any doubt no less than an army of the homeless are sheltering in my warehouses without my blessing. But this afternoon’s shipment is going to change all of that. Ah, here comes Mr. Pence right on schedule with his deliver.”

  Ethan’s spirits fell further to learn that Mr. Pence was scheduled to visit. Cedrick considered Mr. Pence as his personal dog trainer, and Ethan hated dogs. Ethan felt powerless as he watched Mr. Pence’s white van approach. He wanted to cry as he heard the commotion of barking and howling that echoed from within the van as it rolled next to them.

  “More dogs grandfather?”

  Cedrick grinned. “The most magnificent dogs yet, Ethan.”

  Ethan remembered all the previous times grandfather had let dogs loose about the yard. Cedrick preferred his dogs to be nearly wild, and he liked dogs with bite. Cedrick had unleashed German shepherds, doberman pinschers, rottweilers, and mastiffs. Cedrick had always attempted to sooth suspicions of trespassers through the employment of a pack of canines. Ethan was surprised Cedrick had waited so long before summoning Mr. Pence when the old man suspected monsters lurking about his property.

  “I had to wait a little longer for the dogs this time,” Cedrick anticipated Ethan’s thoughts. “I needed to procure just the right animals for this job. Clavius Turner isn’t going to flinch before just any pack of dogs. Mr. Pence needed a little time to get the dogs I wanted mean enough, and hungry enough, to deal with rabble the likes of Mr. Turner.”

  “I hope we give our yard workers better warning this time before we let dogs loose in the yard, grandfather.”

  Mirth danced in Cedrick’s eyes. “There was no harm done to them.”

  “Mr. Pence lost a piece of his ear last time.”

  “Aye,” Cedrick winked, “and he was paid a handsome bonus for it.”

  Ethan stole a peek at Mr. Pence’s jagged ear as the large man lumbered out of his van and swung open the rear doors of his van. Six dog crates crowded the rear of the vehicle, jostling as the dogs contained within their boxes howled for release. Mr. Pence grunted as his wide shoulders and thick arms lifted each crate upon the ground as the large, black dogs twisted to face Cedrick and Ethan in order to display their ready teeth.

  Cedrick shuffled in front of each crate and rapped the top of the boxes with his cane. Each dog barked and spit in response.

  “They look like fine dogs, Mr. Pence,” Cedrick shouted above the commotion, “but you’ve delivered fine dogs to me before. I need something special for this occasion.”

  Mr. Pence retrieved a leather leash and choke collar from the van. Ethan’s heart jumped into his throat as Mr. Pence opened a crate.

  “Believe me, Mr. Pyle, these are just the dogs you need. They’re hungry and savage. But they’re also disciplined. They’ll listen to a man like you, Mr. Pyle, but they won’t hesitate to chomp anyone who raises your ire.”

  Ethan flinched as a black dog darted out of the crate. The dog twirled and glared upon the men who faced him in such strange surroundings. Ethan turned to stone, afraid any movement might summon the dog to fall upon him.

  “Erebus! Platz!” Mr. Pence’s voice boomed above the cold wind.

  The dog went down upon the cold ground. A heartbeat later, the dog’s nostrils flared. Erebus rose into a seated position and craned back his head and howled. The other crated dogs joined in with their pack leader’s call as Erebus strained against Mr. Pence’s leash and scraped at the ground.

  Cedrick winked at Ethan. “Erebus smells them, boy.” Before Ethan thought to advise against it, his grandfather accepted Erebus’ leash from Mr. Pence. “You’re still using the old tongue when you’re training your dogs?”

  Mr. Pence nodded. “The old tongue is still best for commanding dogs such as these.”

  “I would agree.” Cedrick nodded. “I would greatly appreciate it, Mr. Pence, if you might return in the near future to teach Ethan the ways in commanding dogs. It would be best for him to learn how to direct such a pack. And, Ethan, you’ll never have to question such a pack’s loyalty if you can earn it.”

  Ethan’s stomach fluttered at the thought of barking commands as he stood before such a pack of dogs.

  “What do you want me to do with the dogs now, Mr. Pyle? You want me to drive them to the kennels at the edge of the property?”

  Cedrick laughed. “Not this time. This time, I only ask you to set that pack free.”

  Mr. Pence paused.

  “You just can’t let them go,” Ethan stammered. “I hate to think what
would happen if one of those dogs got hold of a yard worker.”

  “I sent everyone home,” the old man winked. “Gave everyone a surprise, paid holiday.”

  Ethan stared at his grandfather. If the legal department needed one further piece of evidence to prove Cedrick senile, then the old man just handed it to his grandson.

  Cedrick pointed a finger at Ethan. “Don’t look at me like I’m mad. We’re not going to be able to get anything done around here real soon if we don’t deal with Clavius Turner. I fear the day’s coming sooner than I think when even all the hands under our employment fall victim to that man’s sway. It will be too late for dogs then. Let them go, Mr. Pence, and I hope your pack isn’t too proud to bring a piece of Clavius Turner back to me.”

  Mr. Pence unlatched his leash from Erebus’s collar. The animal waited while Mr. Pence opened the crates of his pack brothers before sniffing again at the ground. He scraped at the hard, cold earth, trying to sense where he might find the source of the scent that was so pungent to his canine nose. Cedrick’s eyes burned at the dogs as the pack faced the old man, and Ethan was thankful that his grandfather’s stare possessed a fury that communicated to the pack that those dogs would find no prey among the men who stood near Mr. Pence. Erebus sniffed once more at the air, unleashed a howl, and bolted towards the warehouses, his pack following close behind.

  “I’ll call you when your dogs are done in their work, Mr. Pence,” Cedrick spoke. “I’ll let you know when you can return to take them back home.”

  Mr. Pence nodded and loaded his empty crates back onto into the van as the barks of Erebus and his pack echoed between the warehouses. Mr. Pence’s van once again left the grounds according to Mr. Pyle’s tight schedule.

  Cedrick straightened his back in the cold wind. “I almost feel sorry for anyone trespassing upon my property who has to face one of those dogs, Ethan. Perhaps I would not have to respond with such terrible animals if they had not thrown their allegiance to Mr. Turner. But, Ethan, I beg you to steel your heart tonight. We cannot show Clavius Turner any mercy. We can give no quarter.”

  Cedrick shuffled past Ethan in direction of his rising tower, where warmth and shelter offered respite from the howling wind. Though cold, Ethan hesitated to follow, giving himself another moment to look towards the top of his grandfather’s tower, another moment to gaze at the crew so thickly bundled against the wind so that they might contribute to another man’s obsession.

  Cedrick’s hold upon the world and its men continued to amaze him.