Half-Demon's Revenge

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Half-Demon's Revenge Page 14

by Lina J. Potter


  As it turned out, the road wasn’t long. Of course, the count did his best to prolong it, but his best wasn’t good enough.

  After the first castle, where he had hooked up with the lord’s wife and told us we had to stay there for three nights, while the lord’s daughter started throwing me passionate looks, I realized that I had to flee, pronto, or I’d get raped and forcefully married.

  My demonic blood rebelled against the prospect of early marriage, and I talked the servants into letting me spend the night in the stables. In the morning, I barged into the count’s bedroom and, rather impolitely, kicked out the lady of the castle.

  Have you no shame? Your husband’s sleeping under the same roof!

  Drunk as a skunk, the count was laid into a carriage which he—no surprises there—had appropriated. The servants looked at me in horror, but nobody dared to speak. I put one of them in the carriage and ordered him to call me as soon as the count opened his eyes, and they obeyed. Each time he regained consciousness, I promptly poured a bottle of wine into him, and the procession kept moving.

  In the evening, we approached another castle, but I decided to steer clear of it. We had had enough excitement for one trip. We pulled off the road, chose a nice spot, set up a camp, cooked some porridge, and went to sleep to wake up at dawn and continue on our way.

  I spent three or four bottles of wine per day on the noble count, plus a smaller amount of moonshine. In the very first village, I bought a barrel and passed it around to the servants, together with their master.

  Over the course of the journey, I got to know all of them. We didn’t really become chummy, there was always a distance between us, but when given a choice between me and the count, they always preferred dealing with me. I made it clear that I wouldn’t tolerate any delays, and they resigned to it, especially since I was much easier to handle than the ever drunk count. As I understood it, he was a pretty cruel master. Generosity was his only virtue. He could easily lash a servant to death if something was wrong.

  In twenty days, we finally entered Tyrem; we could have made it there sooner if not for the carts and the carriage.

  I went to visit the mayor straight away, all dirty and unkempt. Baron Pulf was a short, plump man, all fussy and restless, like a rat in a cage.

  “Your Highness!”

  He was trying to project admiration while shaking in fear under the veneer of courtesy.

  “What about Count Torne?”

  “The count is temporarily on a drinking bender,” I said bluntly. “He’s relaxing in the countryside.” That made the baron drool, and I kept on taking charge.

  “Here are the papers and His Majesty’s letter.” I had opened the letter along the way, read it, and sealed it back. One of the many things Rick had taught me.

  “Where is the discharged colonel?”

  “In prison, Your Highness.”

  “Release him, wash him, feed him, and introduce him to me. And provide me and the count a house inside the town.”

  “But, Your Highness!”

  “Is something unclear?”

  “Maybe you could take up residence at my house—”

  “Baron, is something unclear?” I pressed on.

  “Will do, Your Highness.”

  “And while I’m here, give me all the documents concerning the regiment. The supply, everything.”

  “B-but, you’ve just arrived—”

  Haven’t forged them yet? The hell you will! Rick was the one who taught me everything about papers, and he made a point that the first thing you need for anything is money. And winning a war was easy—the hard thing was not losing peace.

  “Baron, I’m not tired, and I want these documents right now,” I snapped. “Or I will make sure to bring it up with my uncle.”

  They believed me. Soon, I was given a ream of papers. Meanwhile, the count was sleeping inside the carriage, the search for a house was underway, they hadn’t brought the colonel yet, so I had no choice but to bury myself in the paperwork.

  All that gossamer was intended for someone who had no clue about either finances or economics, in other words, a common knight, or a corrupt official. True, I could believe that swords could cost up to five gold apiece. But such swords were sold with a sheath, and sheaths were listed separately, for two gold apiece. Were they made of mahogany? Were the tents—six gold and four silver apiece—sewn from silk?

  Boots that cost five Alcoins... Who did they think I was?

  If all of that was true, the regiment was supplied better than the Royal Guards. Yeah, right. In this nowheresville, where the mayor had huge diamonds on his fingers.

  There’s no thief like an incompetent thief. I spent no more than two hours poring over the books, but the main point was clear enough, and when a burly, yet drawn-looking guy—probably thanks to his imprisonment—was led into the room, I had already suspected what I was about to find out.

  “Your Highness?”

  The mayor was fidgeting in the back.

  “Leave us alone,” I commanded.

  “But how could we? He’s a criminal!”

  “Was there a trial?” I’d love to see the paperwork, the verdict, the evidence,” I pressed on, making my voice as heavy as only half-demons could.

  “N-no, Your Highness.”

  “Innocent until guilty, mayor, or have you forgotten the laws of our kingdom?”

  “Of course not, Your Highness!”

  “Then bring me a jug of wine and some meat and cheese. And don’t disturb me for half an hour. Have you found a house for me?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “We’ll go there after I finish up.”

  “Do you need anything else, Your Highness?”

  “Yes. Close the door from the other side.”

  I waited until he obeyed, grinned, weighed up a bulky inkstand, and threw it at the door. After hearing “oohs” and “ahs” from the other side, I yelled in the door crack,

  “I’ll hang anyone who eavesdrops!”

  An evil smirk crossed my face. The colonel watched the whole show with a measure of surprise. I gestured toward him, offering a chair for welcome guests.

  “Would you take a seat?”

  “I’d rather stand.”

  He was as hard as iron. I already liked him. We needed people like that on the border; they made us safe. You could bang your head against that iron, but you’d never break it.

  “Then keep on standing. So, your name is Colonel Farne. You’re of common birth, but managed to rise up in the ranks thanks to your smarts and hard work. Not sure how you did that during Rudolph’s reign, but you’ve succeeded.”

  “The former mayor was appointed by your grandfather, Your Highness. He was instrumental in my promotion.”

  “Right, and he resigned...”

  “Three years ago.”

  “Was he sick? Old?”

  “An accident. Poisoned wine.”

  “Was there an investigation?”

  “As I’ve already said, Your Highness, an accident.”

  “Shame,” I said with sympathy. “Well, it was pretty unfortunate.”

  The colonel snickered. Somebody scratched the door, and a secretary came in. He kept on looking over his shoulder and wincing as if he had just fallen on his back. He put a tray of food on the table. I gave him the nod, waited until he left, and ran my hand over the tray. Was there any poison? I had to check.

  The meat, the cheese, the bread—everything seemed pure. But the wine...nope, no poison. But it was very strong, strong enough to knock a boy out after drinking two glasses.

  No water? Exactly. Then... I carefully touched the meat with my tongue.

  “That’s right. They salted the meat quite generously.”

  “Your Highness?”

  “Colonel, they didn’t bring any water. The meat and the cheese are very salty, and the wine is fortified. It would make me drunk in a few minutes, and then they would probably invite a few girls or do something else to make me quie
t.”

  “I see...”

  “I’m not the only smart one here.”

  The colonel seemed shocked.

  “Y-your—”

  “Yeah, My Highness. Prince Alexander Leonard Radenor. What else?”

  “Umm...”

  “Nothing? Then I’ll tell you my version of events. The previous mayor was trying to cover for you. The new one started to steal, and when you tried to intervene, you were removed. What did they accuse you of?”

  “Misappropriation of state funds, Your Hi—”

  “Alex. When we’re alone, just call me Alex.”

  “Yes, Your...I mean, Alex.”

  “So they’ve ascribed you their own sins. Makes sense. So, Farne, would you like to play a game?”

  “Your—”

  “Alex. Do you know who I am?”

  “The son of Princess Michelle.”

  “That’s right. An illegitimate, but legitimized heir. If I were to die tomorrow, my uncle would shed no tears. That’s why they sent me here—so I would get myself killed. I don’t know much about wars, but you do. You will command your regiment, you will deal with the bandits, and I will learn from you. And in return... Who would dare to accuse you of stealing or cruelty if I signed the documents myself?”

  I grinned, showing him my small sharp teeth. Human, at least so far.

  The colonel looked at me carefully, as if he had never seen a human. Or maybe he really hadn’t, at least one such as myself.

  “What are you suggesting, Alex?”

  “You’re going to do your job. I’ll go with you and learn. Then I leave for the capital, alive, and you remain here—”

  “And go back to the prison.”

  “Not necessarily. Could we discuss that? Yes, just not here. They’ve found a house for me. I suggest we talk over there.”

  Farne stared at me, and I looked back.

  Usually, people believed me because I wasn’t lying, and I believed people because I knew when they told me the truth. This was another case. He believed me because he had nothing else to believe.

  A desperate ally? Good enough. It would only make him care more about the opportunity I gave him.

  Two hours later, the three of us settled in. I, Colonel Farne, and Count Torne. We laid the count’s half-dead body onto the bed and poured another dose of moonshine into him. Honestly, I had a suspicion he would eventually die of alcohol poisoning, yet I didn’t feel any mercy. The fewer relatives Abigail had, the less I would have to deal with. Of course, the executioners would be unhappy; I was their job killer.

  The baron gave me the colonel without saying a word. Most probably, he had decided to take action later, or, even better, after we returned, as I clearly wasn’t going to wait.

  The next day, we were set to meet with the regiment, then we had a troop review, and in two days, we were to march out. Why wait, after all?

  I sloshed around in a bath and gorged myself on whatever the Bright Saint had sent me, which was a full choice of delicious treats from a neighboring shop. After dinner, just for the fun of it, I put my mind to reviewing the accounting ledgers, idly marking the cases of theft or simple negligence.

  At least, that was what I was doing when the colonel came upon me.

  “Your—”

  “Alex. Sit down.”

  “Aye-aye, sir. Alex, do you realize that our campaign will be hard? Dangerous?”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “Maybe you could wait here? It’s not our first time chasing this scum, and you aren’t used to—”

  “Colonel, that’s not up for discussion. I’m joining you, and, by the way, so is the body upstairs.”

  “What body?”

  “That’s Count Torne. He was the one appointed here, but when I realized that he wouldn’t be of use, I got him drunk. He’s been hammered for two weeks straight.”

  The colonel’s stare lingered.

  “Alex, you remind me of your grandfather.”

  I threw up my hands. No way, don’t say that; I’m a far cry from him...

  “I try. All right, I’m going to bed. Will we ride at dawn?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then see you in the morning. You can take a look, learn who the thieves in your regiment were. What a disgrace, they couldn’t even steal things properly.”

  And at that, I went to sleep. On my way up, I gave the servants their orders, then threw myself onto the clean sheets. There will be time for everything later. Right now, let the whole world wait!

  ***

  The regiment deployed outside the town walls was a sad sight. First, I’d hang the lieutenant, then the captain, the colonel, the general...or better yet, my uncle, just to send the others a message, so nobody would administer their affairs in such a way.

  The uniforms were shabby, with lots of mended tears, the weapons... Well, theoretically, it was possible that those rough-looking wooden sheaths hid Tevarrian steel, wasn’t it? Yeah, right.

  The tents were rotten to their core. The pots stank; were the soldiers fed swill? Judging by their drawn cheeks and weary eyes, they were. Grandfather had set ten years as the military service time; Uncle had changed it to twenty. Idiot!

  When would they start families?

  The regiment itself comprised five hundred soldiers, divided into five scores, each led by a captain. The five scores were further broken into ten-units, commanded by corporals—the same soldiers as the others, just a bit more skilled. The captains and colonels were appointed separately. All in all, five hundred and six people, plus fifty more personnel: cooks, two blacksmiths, errand boys...

  The colonel was looking at everything, gritting his teeth so hard his skin was about to burst. I sighed.

  “I’ll go visit the mayor. I leave the count in your care. Don’t let him sober up.”

  “Your Highness...”

  “I permit you to hang someone at your discretion, but no more than three men.”

  I turned my horse around and headed toward the town.

  ***

  Compared to the previous day, the mayor seemed to have more brass, but I quickly put an end to that. The secretary flew into the corner and hit the wall with such force that I heard his spine crack. Whatever.

  The mayor tried to greet me with a smile but froze in place as soon as my saber cut the table in two in one swing. Just like a petrify spell.

  “If in two hours, the regiment doesn’t receive rations, tents, uniforms, and horses, you may consider yourself hung.”

  “Your Highness!”

  I pulled out a scroll given by my uncle to Count Torne. Everything its bearer did was assumed to be done for the good of the country.

  “I’m going to leave this room, show this scroll to the guards, and order them to hang the entire town council on the gates. At most, my uncle may give me a slap on the wrist, as I’m his only nephew. Go look for necromancers on the other side and try complaining about me.”

  “Y...your—”

  “My Highness, and My Highness is waiting! Go on, chop-chop!”

  I spoke the last word while almost hissing, and apparently, something flashed in my eyes. Half-demons can subdue others and bring them to heel. Demons are better at that, but I’m not bad either; very few people can resist me. The mayor was no exception.

  He squealed, grunted, and started to fuss around the town council. In four hours, I returned to the regiment with a supply cart, and an hour later, Farne was fervently thanking me while distributing the goods among the captains. I informed them about the review the next day and inquired about local sources of moonshine.

  After all, I had to get the noble count drunk as a hog.

  ***

  In the dead of night, I got visited by assassins. Me! Such a kind and harmless person!

  Unfortunately for them, half-demons had keen senses. I woke up right as they started to cut open the fabric of the tent, the bastards. Just you wait, I’ll force you to sew it up yourselves! And of course, I couldn’t hel
p but change my shape to demonic, seeing as I had just woken up and was furious as hell.

  I was so blindsided that I killed two of them right away, striking at the first with my tail and hitting the other with my claws, protracted all the way out. However, it took me some effort to knock down the third one. As soon as I did that, I shouted to the whole camp,

  “Alarm!”

  I barely had time to transform back. Farne was one of the first to arrive. He probably hadn’t fallen asleep yet, and now he was staring in shock at the two corpses and the beaten survivor, who was pinned down by my triumphant foot.

  “Y-your Highness?!”

  “My Highness. Here I was sleeping, and somebody barged into my tent! How insolent!”

  “W-who did?”

  “These three, armed with knives!”

  “I s-see...”

  Farne understood everything almost instantly. He seized the remaining assailant by the collar and threw me a devoted look.

  “Your Highness, do you desire to be present at interrogation?”

  I shook my head.

  “I desire to sleep. And remove the bodies.”

  “I’ll send someone to clean up and mend the tent.”

  “Mending can wait until tomorrow, or I won’t be able to sleep,” I demanded petulantly. “You see, Farne, my delicate nature...”

  It clearly didn’t work on the colonel. He looked over the proof of my delicate nature and smirked.

  “Your Highness, we won’t bother you anymore.”

  Undeterred, I strode toward my bedroll, wrapped myself in a blanket, and zoned out.

  I think somebody was screaming in pain under torture somewhere, but I didn’t care. I wanted to sleep.

  ***

  When I woke up, I found out that the assassins had been sent by the mayor. Apparently, he had decided that killing me was easier than providing for me, and he was no stranger to arranging accidents.

 

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