Hell's Ascendant (Mantles of Power Book 3)

by Benjamin Medrano

  A few moments later a cool liquid dripped onto her back, then Isalla almost melted into the bed as Kitania began to gently knead her muscles. It hurt a little, but it was a good hurt.

  In fact, she almost fell asleep just like that.

  Chapter 20

  “Gently, don’t be so firm,” Niadra said, ever so slightly exasperated as she sat there and tried to be patient.

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Breanne said, the young woman’s nervousness readily apparent as she took a breath and tried to comb Niadra’s hair more gently. The young woman was pretty much the only servant she was certain wasn’t a spy who Niadra could take on, yet she wasn’t as skilled as Cecilia had been, either.

  The thought of Cecilia sent another surge of anger through Niadra, though it was nowhere near as strong as it had been when she’d first learned of Cecilia’s deception. At the same time, Kitania’s absence didn’t bother Niadra nearly as much as it had at first, which was something of a relief. At the same time, it also meant that Niadra had more freedom to socialize with the other nobility, and with as restless as she was feeling, that made Niadra happier.

  “Is this better, Your Highness?” Breanne asked hopefully, the brunette’s voice hesitant as she gently brushed Niadra’s hair. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than before.

  “Yes, it is. You’re learning reasonably quickly, Breanne,” Niadra said, suppressing the urge to sigh. She wished that she could find a better handmaiden, but with everything that had been going on lately, she just didn’t trust other servants.

  Still, that didn’t mean that Breanne couldn’t be trained to become better at things. Everyone had to start somewhere, after all.

  “After you’re done with my hair, ensure that the violet dress is properly pressed and ready. I want to look as good as possible for tonight,” Niadra said firmly after a minute, smiling a little, now.

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Breanne agreed, letting out a soft breath of relief.

  Niadra nodded in approval, a sense of anticipation rising within her. She was curious what the other nobility were up to.

  Alserah watched the ball from her balcony, much as she usually did. The office behind her was dark and the night was just cloudy enough that the moon didn’t provide much illumination, so she didn’t think any of the elves and ambassadors involved in the soiree would notice her presence. That was half the point, after all, and a part of Alserah was relieved that she hadn’t attended balls often over the past millennium, as it meant her absence wasn’t notable.

  It wasn’t as though Alserah wanted to attend, anyway. The pomp and circumstance of balls wore on her, which was why she’d given the throne to others for generations. King Rayvan was simply the most recent of the monarchs she’d selected to take that duty, and unless Alserah perished in the coming weeks, he wouldn’t be the last. That said, her gaze drifted from the handsome elven man who she was certain was reassuring some of the nobles to Niadra.

  The princess was speaking animatedly with several other nobles and looked quite happy to be there. More interesting to Alserah, and slightly disappointing, was that she was gravitating toward eligible young women. That didn’t bode well in Alserah’s mind, and she let out the faintest sigh.

  “Why the sigh?” Sidina asked so suddenly that Alserah almost overreacted.

  If it hadn’t been for Sidina not hiding the approach of her aura, Alserah very well might have manifested her bow, and that would have gone poorly. Sidina had gotten onto the balcony seemingly effortlessly, and the human leaned on the railing gently, flicking a hair back from her eyes. She looked more comfortable without the other deities present, which was something Alserah could understand. Trying to talk with all the other deities around was difficult. As it was, the servants were acting jumpy with five other deities in residence, at least most of the time.

  “I’m disappointed in one of my descendants,” Alserah said, shaking her head as she did so. “I had some hopes for her, but she appears to be a bit shallower than I believed. Not that I’m going to settle on a conclusion instantly, mind you.”

  “Mm.” Sidina didn’t so much reply as hum, and the human looked more closely at the participants of the ball. Eventually she asked, “Why are you disappointed?”

  “Niadra… well, she’s the one who did the most to help Kitania adapt to being here. Kitania saved her life and that of her maid, and the two were doing so very well, on the whole. Kitania is a lovely woman, and one who caught my interest, of all things. Saying that… well, it’s quite a change for me,” Alserah said, a brief, mocking smile flashing across her face as she thought about how her attitude had changed, then the smile faded as she sighed and continued. “I thought maybe they’d do well with each other. Then Isalla and Rose came here, injecting uncertainty in the situation. Niadra threw away her handmaiden of years, Cecilia, for lying to her and Kitania, which troubles me. Yes, it was wrong of Cecilia to hide the information that Isalla and Rose were coming, but being banished the way she was? I feel the punishment didn’t fit the crime… well, maybe it did. Who am I to judge? Regardless, I wouldn’t be so concerned if it weren’t for this.”

  Alserah gestured at the gathering with a sigh, looking as a young woman placed a hand on Niadra’s arm and the princess simply smiled, moving closer instead of fending the woman off. Her disappointment was growing stronger, and her hands tightened around the railing as she continued. “She’s inviting courtship, and that’s disappointing. Kitania was already in a relationship before they met, even if she believed it to be doomed, and Niadra seduced her. Now, though? Kitania hadn’t made a decision when she left, and hasn’t been gone very long, so Niadra is knowingly choosing to abandon her, or worse, thinks she won’t find out. Either way, I’m not happy with her. The least Niadra could do is send a letter or the like letting Kitania know what she’s decided to do.”

  “Ah. That… is a thorny situation. Especially for you to be involved in,” Sidina murmured, watching the ball with a good deal more interest. “On the other hand, I rarely interact with my worshipers, so I’m not one to talk. I also don’t have a kingdom.”

  “You easily could have one. I know the monasteries that sprang up around your mountain are devoted to you, and there are entire communities dedicated to supporting them,” Alserah pointed out, smiling as she teased. “In fact, last I heard even the neighboring nations don’t really touch the locals there, since they’re afraid you might take it poorly.”

  A flicker of annoyance flashed across Sidina’s face, and the human sighed, murmuring, “I’m aware and want nothing to do with them. I found a remote peak for my training for a reason, and not because I wanted power over others. What the mortals around the mountains do is none of my affair, and I’ll only intervene if someone or something starts slaughtering them wholesale. Or if the demons invade, I suppose.”

  Alserah resisted the near-overwhelming urge to snort at the reply. She knew that Sidina was far more attached to others than she liked to pretend, and she likely hid any assistance she might give as well. It was a trait that Alserah appreciated, since she did a few similar things as well.

  “I just find it ironic that it isn’t demons I’m concerned about right now. No new offenses have been reported, and it’s almost peaceful on the front lines, or as peaceful as it gets,” Alserah murmured, and a frown flickered across her face. “Not that I think that’s going to last, even if not all demons are necessarily enemies.”

  “Mm. What do you think the angels behind this have planned?” Sidina asked, the hint of worry in her voice startling, if only because the woman rarely seemed worried about anything.

  “I don’t know. I really don’t. However… I have to assume it’s something big. I really, truly hope that they haven’t come up with some way to give an archangel a deific mantle,” Alserah said, taking a deep breath before admitting. “That… that would be bad.”

  “You have the most wonderful ideas, don’t you?” Sidina murmured, prompting a chuckle from Alserah, th
ough it was halfhearted.

  Alserah didn’t reply, instead watching the nobles dance and make merry in the gardens below, and doubtlessly continuing to do so in the ballroom as well. They were just recovering from the devastation that had been inflicted on the country such a short time ago, and she didn’t have the heart to warn them that something far worse could be coming. Oh, a few people knew, but they were few and far between, and even they didn’t have any concept of how bad things could truly become.

  Only those who’d survived the War of Decimation and earlier conflicts had any idea what could happen, and that meant only angels, demons, and gods.

  Alserah wasn’t going to ruin the mood for everyone else, not when they couldn’t do anything to prevent it. All she could do was insist that the military and priesthood continue preparing for the worst behind the scenes. Well, that and pray that Kitania and her friends would unearth the information they so vitally needed.

  Chapter 21

  Ordath watched Haral enter the chamber with a cool gaze, judging her as she slowly approached. The council didn’t allow people to approach them often, and her presence would have been a great concession even at the best of times, which this most certainly wasn’t. The only question was what her punishment would be, and if she acted inappropriately Ordath had no doubt that most of the others would cast aside their agreement to make her punishment harsher. For that matter, he would be displeased enough to agree with them.

  Fortunately for her, Haral seemed to be well aware of that, and the angel fell to a knee a good two paces before she needed to and bowed her head, her wings stretching out and almost touching the floor in a submissive stance. It was the gesture of one who ranked far lower than she did, and Ordath noticed some of the anger of the others ease, if only slightly. Not that all of his companions were feeling quite as charitable, of course.

  “Ah, here’s the coward, then,” Yimael said, her gravelly voice practically dripping venom as she glared at Haral. “You refused a directive, then you have the temerity to come back here begging forgiveness, after as many disasters as you’ve been responsible for?”

  “Calm down, the lady has only just arrived,” Ethan said, the thin angel’s tone unruffled and almost cold. “I can’t say that I’m happy about this either, but at least she didn’t return after a failure this time. Instead she made a few points that had some merit.”

  “I’m glad that my opinions were of some use, My Lord,” Haral said, holding her position with surprising grace as she continued. “My failures to date have been immensely frustrating on a personal level, and have imperiled our goal, so I am willing to accept whatever punishment is deemed fit.”

  “As you should. That said, your humility and willingness to come before us does you credit. It isn’t as though you tried to go to the Holy Council, after all,” Ordath said and saw Yimael shift uncomfortably out of the corner of his eye. One of her subordinates had tried that, and only the actions of a couple of alert sympathizers had prevented things from taking a disastrous turn.

  “Please, there’s no need to get worked up at this point,” Sereth said, even her usual mellow tone betraying a hint of annoyance. “May we allow Haral to rise, please? Even seeing her in that position is making my back ache.”

  “Rise,” Zithar rumbled, sitting back in his chair impassively, and Ordath felt relief rush through him. It was obvious that the only one truly holding what happened against Haral was Yimael, though the others might be upset. That was why they’d agreed on a punishment for Haral, though, and Ordath was grimly certain that anyone who heard about it would do their best to avoid upsetting the council.

  “Thank you, Lords and Ladies,” Haral said, carefully rising again, though she kept her gaze downcast as she folded her wings. That was probably for the best, in Ordath’s opinion.

  “Your thanks are unnecessary, as you’re here for our judgment of your actions. After some discussion, I was chosen as the spokeswoman for the council, as I was the least biased for or against you,” Sereth said, the blonde angel tapping her fingers against one another in front of her as she watched Haral with slightly narrowed eyes. “You were given a task to assure us of your loyalty after your failure in the mortal world, and you stopped with it only halfway done. Regardless of how many points in your favor there may have been, you still disobeyed us, which is most upsetting.”

  “I was aware that such might be the case, which is why I’ve come to accept whatever punishment you have decided that I’ve earned,” Haral said, bowing her head slightly as she continued, her voice firm despite her situation. “I will do everything I can to support the society, but I’ve realized that I cannot convince myself to destroy those who believe themselves honest patriots of the heavens, and who aren’t directly supporting the corruption of the Holy Council.”

  “Your fit of conscience was poorly timed, even if I believe that you were correct not to carry out the task in this case. If you had sent a message informing us of your concerns, I would have supported you, and would not have agreed to your punishment. However, our situation cannot afford those who lightly discard their tasks,” Ethan said calmly, his gaze cold as he looked at Haral. “As such, I’ve agreed that you must be punished.”

  Haral inclined her head slightly but didn’t reply, staring at the floor.

  “Precisely. That is why you’re to spend a week in the Chamber of Penitence, Haral,” Ordath said, watching closely as the angel visibly flinched, resisting the urge to smile in response. He didn’t blame her for being unhappy, as the punishment was rather more severe than he’d argued for, but when the others had insisted that an example be made, Ordath had ceded the point. He likely could have put his foot down and gotten it changed, but Ordath preferred to pick his battles rather than fighting over something relatively meaningless.

  “A week?” Haral asked, her voice hesitant as she paled. “I… will I even survive that?”

  “Since the last time we used the chamber, it’s been adjusted so that it cannot cause permanent mental or physical damage,” Yimael said flatly, her eyes narrowing as she smiled thinly. “Not that you’re going to enjoy the experience. But that’s the entire point you’re going to be in there, isn’t it? It’s to teach you that you shouldn’t treat your tasks lightly.”

  “As you say,” Haral said, taking a deep breath and letting it out, obviously nervous. She didn’t argue further, instead straightening as she asked. “When will the sentence be carried out?”

  “Is there anything you need to arrange to avoid others noticing that you’ve vanished?” Zithar asked, his gaze focused on the young angel, and Haral swallowed audibly.

  “A letter or two explaining that I’m delayed, perhaps, but that’s all that would be necessary,” Haral said, hesitating before she admitted, “I don’t think anyone would notice, but I’d rather be certain.”

  “Then go draft your letters and ensure they’re on their way. The sooner you begin your punishment the better,” Zithar said, his smile cold as he added, “It isn’t as though preparation will make the chamber easier to experience, after all.”

  “As you say, My Lord. May I withdraw to do so?” Haral asked, bowing again deeply. Only when she was given permission did the angel withdraw, and once the door latched Sereth spoke calmly.

  “You’re right about her attitude, Ordath. I’m not happy with what she did, even now, but I think eliminating her would do more harm than good,” the woman said, sitting back as she frowned. Sereth was the only other archangel in the council, which gave her opinion far greater weight than most of the members. Still, Ordath knew that she took pains to not use that influence more than necessary to keep the council from fracturing, much as he did.

  “Beyond which, she’s right about the Emberborn family. After you informed us of her letter, I did some research and found that, if anything, her concerns were understated,” Ethan said, shaking his head unhappily. “There are more of them spread through the Order of the Phoenix than I think any of us realized, and her ch
ances of eliminating all of them would be incredibly small. If we didn’t get all of them, the furor it raised would be intense, and I don’t know that we could ward off all the investigations it’d cause. Even trying to focus it on demons would be risky in those circumstances.”

  “Which means we just have to be more careful about tasks we assign after this,” Ordath said, and as Yimael inhaled he raised a hand and added pointedly, “I was one of the ones who suggested it, so yes, I’m at fault for this as well. I’m willing to admit it, so please stop sniping, Yimael.”

  “I’m not sniping,” Yimael snapped, glowering at him. “I just think that she got off far too lightly.”

  “Lightly?” Zithar asked, his eyebrows rising as he looked at Yimael skeptically. “Would you care to spend a week in the chamber in her place?”

  “Well, no, of course not,” Yimael said, looking a bit taken aback, and more than a little uncomfortable. “I had a hard enough time testing it to get it right.”

  “Then it’s an appropriate punishment, and it’ll only increase her anger toward the traitors, rather than eliminating someone useful,” Zithar said, letting out a sigh as he grew more solemn. “Now, what was this you mentioned about the Forest of Sighs, Ethan?”

  Ethan shifted in his chair, and despite his attempts to hide his concern, Ordath saw the man’s worry and sat up straighter. Anything that concerned Ethan was worth paying attention to, since Ethan was the most easygoing member of the council most of the time.

  “Our reports from Alserah’s domain have become… sporadic at best. The angels there are frightened, so we’re mostly getting secondhand reports from sympathetic relatives of theirs, and I can’t say how much of the information is accurate,” Ethan said, his tone almost flat as he looked around the table. “Even worse, many of the sympathizers who live there have had a crisis of conscience far greater than Haral’s after the attempt to destroy the Forest of Sighs. It’s almost as though they didn’t consider that they might be required to make the ultimate sacrifice for the greater good. As such, we have less than a tenth as much information about what’s going on inside the country as we did even a month ago.”