Free The Cleric's Vault by Ernest Dempsey

disgusted.
    “What
are you going to do?”
    Alexander
looked at Carrol.   “Our agent is
taking care of it now.”   He paused,
thinking for a moment.
    “See
to it that neither of you do anything like this again.   You know what is fully within my
rights, if necessary.   An act that
endangers the order is an act of treason.”
    The
room was smothered by an ominous silence.   They knew he was justified.   And the laws of the Order were very clear.   If the acting Imperator ever believed anyone in the
organization had committed treason he could have the accused put before the
council and executed.   It was a
simple monarchic system when it came to that charge.   Even the adepts were vulnerable.
    An
adept’s execution had only occurred once in the century since the Golden Dawn
had achieved prominence.   In 1946,
the post-war world was a place of uncertainty.   Though World War II had been an enormous atrocity, more than
a few shrewd businessmen had made their fortunes off of it.   Aramus Dawson was one such
character.   He’d profited millions
of dollars making vital parts for the weapons that the US Air Force took into
battle.   While many made money on
the planes, Dawson made his on the guns that took down other planes.   At the age of 45 he was still one of
the youngest adepts to ever ascend to the chair.   Unfortunately for Aramus, his greed and ambition were such
that they caused him to hoard some of the money he was supposed to contribute
to the Order.   Every man, down to
the most insignificant initiate had to pay their tithe to the
organization.   Ten percent of all
gains, just like in a church, went to the group.   It was how they maintained an operational bankroll and how
they were able to function in secrecy and yet extend a powerful arm into places
other groups could not.  
    Dawson’s
Imperator had warned him not to hold back funds from the Order.   If necessary, accounts could be called
into question.   If the accused
could not or would not produce any evidence against their supposed wrongdoing,
they could face punishment at the discretion of the Imperator.   When Dawson’s bank accounts were
requested he refused, boldly challenging the right of the Order to ask for such
personal information.
    Unfortunately
for Aramus, the order controlled many of the banks in the United States and a
few in Europe.   It only took a
short time before documentation began coming to light that showed the greedy
adept’s treason.   He’d kept tens of
millions of dollars from the order, only paying a fraction of the tithe he was
required to give.   If the numbers
had been just slightly off, that was excusable, a technicality that could be
overlooked.   But such an enormous
amount had to be accounted for.   Aramus defiantly stood his ground, claiming he had earned that money and
deserved to keep it.   He’d
evidently forgotten how the order had helped him fund some of his investments
in the first place.   In front of a
conclave of 12 peers, the other adept, and the Imperator, he stood trial for
treason.   His judgment was swift
and unanimous.   Death.  
    The
means could be decided solely by the Imperator himself.   They had a room in their secret
gathering place that could be used for just such an occasion.   In the center of the large,
semi-circular room, an enormous brass bull rested over a fire pit.   On the side of the metal sculpture was
a door.   They had adopted the
“brazen bull” from ancient Greece where it had been a rare form of execution
during a particularly sinister reign of power.  
    The
victim was placed inside the metal beast and the door close.   A fire was then lit underneath,
effectively roasting the victim.   The most effective and disturbing means of torture was to keep the fire
burning low.   Hot coals could keep
the person inside alive for extended periods of time, cooking them even slower
than a higher flame.   Internal
pipes were fastened to the victim’s face