I tried giving him the pendant back, but he shook his head, implying I was to keep on holding it. I scratched the back of my head and adamantly refused.
“No. I’m no warlock.”
I was a half-demon, what was there to speak about? A warlock was a completely different thing. A warlock was born when a powerless human made a pact with the netherworld and got a whole lot of goodies out of that—all stuffed with complete dung, of course. I had never done anything like that; that was how I was created.
“Did you kill poor people because of gold?”
“No!” That was the ghosts’ job.
“But were you an accessory to that?”
“Of course!”
A wave of whispers ran down the crowd, Uncle jerked in his throne, and the queen was flush with delight. I didn’t give them any time to rejoice, however.
“They were trying to steal my money; of course I was an accessory to that whole affair!”
Meanwhile, the pendant still felt like dead iron. Even though I had seen oath-breakers unable to tear their fingers away from them until their hands became charred, I had seen burn spots...
Our holy thralls might declare magic to be evil, but that never precluded them from using it for whatever it was worth. Rene had told me that if the Church found out about him, they would grab him and force him to do their bidding. Damned hypocrites.
I wondered why the pendant didn’t affect me. I would have to look into that.
Auntie asked me a couple more questions, and I answered honestly, disappointing them heavily. The thrall had to leave empty-handed, and I ticked off another box. Rein them in as soon as possible.
All of Altverin and Rwayne’s debts were cleared, and our neighbors became very respectful toward Sharen. However, I had more important things to think about. Ruthina made her move, and I was her prey.
Dealing with her turned out to be hard. The princess was always around me, watching me with her bedroom eyes, touching me whenever opportunity presented itself, sitting next to me at every meal. The damned woman was making me crazy! Should I tell her I don’t like her? I’d prefer a romp in the dirt with a frog to sleeping with Ruthina in a bed. Yet she kept pushing on, day after day, and I felt like a pretty maid in front of a platoon.
Alex, call me Ruthie, we are family, aren’t we?
Alex, you look so manly...
Alex, if you don’t have a paramour, I will dance with you at every ball...
Auntie was scowling at me, Uncle didn’t notice anything, Andre was frowning, and I was about to jump out of a window. What a bitch!
After a couple of weeks, and I reached the tipping point. I was already thinking about arranging an accident for my dear cousin. Why not, really? Sooner or later, I would have to kill Ruthina anyway. But how would I arrange it? The princess could easily become an angel, too good for the sinful earth, and I needed Rudolph to drain the cup of bitterness to the dregs, filling him with shame. Plus, the more dirt revealed about the previous ruler, the cleaner the next one seemed. That’s politics for you. Whomever would replace a tyrant and a despot, they would enjoy mass adoration at first. For me, that was of utmost importance.
So, what should I do? That question tormented me incessantly, but not for long—right until the day when Ruthina launched an offensive.
***
The frump was waiting for me in the bedroom, apparently mindful of her failed attempt with Tommy’s intervention. She was sitting on the bed, and I silently unleashed a stream of earsplitting profanities, trying not to say anything out loud. If anybody stumbled upon that scene, I would never be able to wipe that stain away! What were my options?
“Ruthie? What’s wrong?”
“Alex, we need to talk.”
It all looked so fake that I barely stifled a laugh. Even brothel girls looked more sincere, and Ruthina was making such a face that I really wanted to splash her with water to bring her to her senses. I couldn’t, however, or she’d bleed makeup all over the place. Mistress Eliza had told me a lot about that, summoning her girls and showing how a shark could be turned into a mermaid. A dash of paint here, a trinket there...all in all, an interesting experience.
“I’m listening.”
I didn’t come closer, just in case. Ruthina put her hand to the place where her breasts were supposed to be, flapping her frills and ruffles.
“Alex, it’s so hard...as you know, my husband cannot move!”
“I’m so sorry.”
Should I have finished him off so they wouldn’t suffer together?
“And I have no one to talk to.”
Her mother, her father, her brother...even her husband—or were his ears paralyzed as well? No one to talk to, yeah, right.
“It’s a real nightmare...”
Ruthina was closing in. I carefully maneuvered, trying to stay near the door, or at least a window. If anything happened, I would jump out, I swear! I don’t want to die!
“Alex, please hug me. I want to feel protected...”
I had never signed up for that.
“No-no, I cannot! What if somebody comes in? What would they think?”
Ruthina stopped to think.
“But what about...”
I really loved that, I did. “What about”? The lady didn’t even consider the possibility that I didn’t want her. Apparently, I was to be overjoyed to embrace that corpse. Yeah, right. I would prefer a salt-water fish; it didn’t have as many bones.
“I think this is the wrong place for consolation,” I told her poignantly.
Ruthina’s eyes turned glassy—apparently, my demonic charisma had kicked in. Argadon might not be a succubus, but he still had that power, and he had passed it on to me.
“You should entrust such things to men. We know best about arranging a rendezvous—the time and the place...”
“A-alex?”
I smiled at the princess.
“Trust me, Ruthie. I won’t fail you.”
And I gently escorted her out of the room, closing the latch behind her. It was a heavy latch, strong enough to protect me. Phew! But what would I do with her? I didn’t sign up for such perversions! Should I have slept with that nightmarish creature? On top of the fact that after just one look at the passionate Ruthina, my mouth was filled with three rows of fangs, I wasn’t, ahem, capable of that physically. I wasn’t for sale!
Plus, sleeping with her was tantamount to handing her some great blackmail material. No dice. Given half a chance, she would condemn me. It’s just that she had an itch she wanted to scratch and decided I would satisfy her craving. She was probably hoping to get double the pleasure—from a night with me and from my death.
She never did me any harm? Not because she didn’t want to. She just never got the chance. But a viper that hadn’t bitten anyone yet was just as venomous. Underhanded? Cruel? Inhuman? I couldn’t care less. I wasn’t a human, and Tyen Claymore had proven it to me well enough.
And so, I came up with an idea. It would be ironic, I thought. A fitting justice for an unfaithful wife. But first, I needed a man.
***
I found the perfect candidate the very next day, just as I visited the stables to check up on my horse. A servant girl was cowering in the corner, crying her eyes out and brandishing fresh bruises on her shoulders and her face. Lanaya, that was her name, I thought. I had seen her around the palace grounds before.
Lanaya’s story was as old as bones. She had gotten involved with a certain Baron Lefevre, one of the courtiers. On the outside, he seemed the perfect gentleman: dark of hair, tall of stature, with perfect manners, and charm worthy of a prince.
That couldn’t be farther from the truth. Apparently, the dear baron’s proclivities included some fairly unusual habits, and the items in his arsenal were much more numerous and diverse than your basic sword and rapier. Whips, collars, blindfolds… The girl shuddered as she recalled the torture he had subjected her—and probably countless others before her, too. He had blackmailed her, threatening to
send her away from the palace and disgrace her. Nobody would blame the nobleman, after all…if they believed her in the first place.
After calming Lanaya down, I set around making the arrangements. Using my connections to Mistress Eliza, I learned about another brothel—the one specializing in the baron’s pursuits, by the way—that would satisfy all my requirements for a fair sum of gold.
Tommy, who wasn’t especially keen on the whole affair, became the carriage driver. The next evening, I passed Ruthina a note asking her to sneak out after the ball and sit inside a green carriage with a gold dolphin on the door. She read it and fluttered her eyelashes while staring me right in the eyes...
Great. I disappeared from the ball before it was over and went for a chat with the brothel owner, who went by the colorful moniker of Master Scourge.
You see, I have two friends who would really like to make use of your equipment....
…Yes, they need a room for the entire night. And they need to be completely undisturbed, got it? So how about a room not on your premises?
Here’s the gold. Will that be enough?
All clear, then. No problem. That’s how we do things, fair and square.
You need to provide a place and equipment. Me? No-no, I’ll stick to watching, other stuff doesn’t appeal to me, that’s just my preference.
What’s my name? Mister Hundredgold. If that’s not enough, I could add more.
In half an hour, Master Scourge agreed to everything.
For the baron, I forged a blackmail note, hinting that I knew about his hobbies, and asked him to meet at the location—but burn the letter before that. I knew he would do it. He was just the sort.
Did I feel any shame? Not really, no. I did hate seeing dead children, but Ruthina...
Who the hell did she think she was? She had gotten lucky by being born into my Uncle’s family. Other than that, she was completely deprived of any intelligence, charm, or basic decency. Did I force her to throw herself at me? She could have easily stayed with her husband, but she didn’t want to. Let her face the music, then.
***
Everything went just as planned. After the ball, Ruthina sat inside the carriage with a dress and a mask waiting for her, plus a note asking her to change clothes in order to keep our dalliance secret. After all, only a blind man wouldn’t recognize you for a princess. She obliged, leaving her old dress in the carriage, put on the mask herself, and arrived at a humble house on the outskirts of the city. She entered the house, followed a servant up to a room, and inside...
She didn’t have the time to scream at seeing the baron’s naked body strewn across the bedsheets. Quiet as a mouse, I slipped from behind the curtain, my hand on her mouth, the other one on her throat. In a second, she passed out and I was free to fulfill my plan.
Carefully, I laid her body on the huge canopy bed, right next to the baron’s corpse. Using some of the tools helpfully prepared by Master Scourge, I decorated her skin with cuts and bruises, showing that she and the baron had been at it for quite a while. Finally, I took a jagged dagger, put the baron’s fingers around it, and thrust it deeply into Rutina’s throat.
A murder-suicide in the throes of passion. He loved blood so much that he couldn’t get enough of it.
Was that ruthless? Was that cruel? Whatever. Grey ice engulfed me, hiding my thoughts. Grey ice hid the whole world from me, and apathetically, I stared at something that used to be a young woman. Not anymore. Now, it was only a mutilated body.
***
I left them right there. I checked her dress, just in case, but I didn’t find anything. My note stayed inside the carriage, as well as the princess’ dress.
What happened to the clothes I had bought for her? Well, I was a fire mage, after all. I burned them three alleys away, quickly and efficiently, leaving only ashes.
I still felt no guilt. I hadn’t even taken any of her baubles. All her rings, bracelets, earrings, even her tiara. As for the rest, why would I feel sorry for her? Because she was innocent? I did her a favor, then. A martyr’s death was a sure way to heaven. One could only rejoice for her—while I was left to clean up the mess.
How was I supposed to act? Have sex with her? If she had been faithful to her husband, she would have survived, make no mistake.
I’m not trying to justify myself. Ruthina had pushed me over the edge, and if I could challenge men to duels, why would women be exempt from punishment? Even if they had royal blood. If she hadn’t wanted to stray, she could have stayed by her husband’s side.
And here I thought I was a proper half-demon. The horror!
***
I was wrong. The horror started in the palace, around breakfast. The princess was gone! Nobody had seen her, nobody had... No-no, you misunderstood, she’s a faithful wife! Probably. But where could she go?
In a word, by dinner, the entire place lost it, and by evening, the entire capital city. All hell broke loose, and when the princess’ body was found, naked, together with another man, it was impossible to cover the whole thing up. How could they, really?
I nodded along, ooh-ing and aah-ing, even if Abigail latched onto me like a mite. Where were you? What were you doing?
Well, at least I could sincerely tell her that I wouldn’t do anything improper to Ruthina, wouldn’t even touch her, let alone do something like that. After all, we were relatives, cousins. So what if Uncle allowed cousin marriages? For me, it is still incest, and in our backwater county, people are old-school, and everyone knows that you can’t get good children from such unions!
And I wasn’t lying, again. It wasn’t hard for me to slit a throat of that damsel, even if she was a royal princess. But touching her with lusty thoughts...I’d rather puke my guts out straight away.
Anyway, other than Abigail’s second-guessing, there wasn’t much mystery about the cause of her death, especially after the baron’s quarters were searched and the full extent of his decadence was revealed. Lanaya’s testimony helped, too.
Did I feel any guilt? Why would I? I would kill all of them anyway, all four people. Uncle, Aunt, both of their children...well, I had already killed one. I wouldn’t feel sorry for my victims, now would I? Did they feel sorry for my mother?
You wanted gold and riches, ladies and gentlemen, and you got them. But don’t forget that your life is a set of scales, and now, it is time to pay.
Rumors began to swirl around the capital. The princess was a high-class prostitute. The entire court is like this! The capital is chock-full of perverts who care not where nor with whom they satisfy their urges. Now, in Alexander’s time...
I helped to spread the rumors, but my contribution was miniscule. Common folk managed by themselves, and there were no surprises there. Whatever was happening on other people’s beds was always a hot topic, especially when nothing was happening in theirs.
A dark cloud colored Rudolf’s looks, and Abigail wept. The court was in mourning, dark fabric hung everywhere. Meanwhile, I decided to take a sabbatical to my homeland of Torrin, especially since I had news for Rick and Henry and wanted to talk to Rene as well.
Tommy supported my initiative, while Viscount Morinar hesitated for a while before declining the invitation. He returned to his estate. As for Henrietta, Tommy didn’t want to take her with us. She was quite religious, and it was way too early to take her to the evil necromancers’ lair.
But when you sit on the throne, Alex, you aren’t going to take your time, are you?
I wasn’t. Just a couple of years—enough for Tom to become sure of his feelings, and for Henrietta to finish up with her mourning.
And that’s what happened in Torrin...
***
Carlie, oh Carlie.
My first love, a red-haired girl with bright eyes, the spitting image of her cousin. Tall, slender, delightfully gnarly, like a thoroughbred colt, with a wide mouth and green eyes, sparkling with the sun’s rays.
When she looked at me, I stared back and couldn’t keep my eyes off her.
“I’m Alex. Who are you?”
“I’m Cassie’s cousin, first cousin.”
“You are?”
I didn’t know that. Cassandra cleared things up.
You see, the righteous Hermann Likeworth had once been married. His wife had born him two daughters, Iliana and Carlie, but died during the second childbirth. So what had the pious sir done with his girls? He had given them away to a convent, of course, to be raised, and then, if they ever discovered an appetite for serving the Bright Saint...
Ha! What else could children, who had been brainwashed since early childhood, acquire a taste for? For enlightenment? For fornication? Give me a break!
With Iliana, everything went smoothly. At that moment, she was obediently serving the Bright Saint, growing up with the same convictions as her father.
Carlie, however... The girl had wanted to live too much, just like her cousin. But Cassie had been lucky enough to get a different upbringing. Carlie had been kicked out of the convent because of her transgressions. The nuns could forgive much, but not bells ringing at three o’clock in the morning or a tail sewn to the reverend mother’s habit... There had been no end to her pranks.
Herman had had no choice but to take her home and start educating her with a lash and sermons, hoping to marry her off.
As if! Carlie had resisted as well as she could. And after learning about her cousin who had left to be with her husband... And where exactly? Where was her father getting his letters from? Torrin? Great, that’s where she would go!
The girl had never even thought about bandits, or her cousin having moved to anywhere else, but she got lucky. Cassandra Ghirr was well-known and respected in Torrin, as Rene’s wife. And he was respected even more. Rene and Cassie were teaching the villagers’ children reading and writing, had opened a school, and were glad to share their knowledge while the peasants were thrilled to make their kids into learned people. True, when they had been broke, they knew no life other than laboring in the field day in and day out. But with all the silver mining and fishmongery going on, the villagers could afford more—like letting their little ones study in the winter, during the storm season. What if they rise in the world later?
Half-Demon's Revenge Page 20