by Mark Eller
“Yes,” the demon agreed, “but none of it your doing. Your singular selfless deed during these last several years was to help train a thief who is more saint than sinner.” Its eyes glinted. “Tell me. Do you love the lad? Do you desire him?”
“I owe him,” Mathew said. “He cut off my finger before the curse ring turned me totally furry.”
“You use him,” Phrandex corrected. “If not for your pretense of affection for Glace, not a thief or grafter or murderer in Yyles would trust you enough to deal with you. Your reasons for keeping him are completely pragmatic.”
Mathew threw a quick glance toward Glace to make sure the thief wasn’t listening. He need not have worried. Glace’s attention was completely focused on Halberd Breaker. The assassin had two empty bottles of home brew in front of him. His eyes were fastened hungrily on the young girl.
“You are here for something,” he told the demon. “What does Athos want?”
Phrandex chuckled. “Athos wants a lot of things. For starters, he and Zorce want the world. Zorce already has a foothold in Yernden because King Vere is corrupt and the queen hasn’t produced a viable male heir.”
“Viable?”
“Queen Elise is presently with male child. I understand this unfortunate circumstance will be soon corrected just as it has been three times before.” Looking long at Halberd’s empty tumbler, Phrandex licked its lips. “I want several bottles of that gut-buster when I leave. Strangely, there is no whiskey in Hell.”
“Maybe that’s because there’s no greater drug to hellkind than alcohol.”
“I‘ve heard the rumor,” Phrandex agreed. “I’d like to see if it’s true.”
A young man and a not so young woman walked through the tavern’s doors. The woman smiled at Mathew, winked at Glace, and led the man to a table.
The man was somebody Mathew didn’t know, but the woman was Sulya, the similian who pretended to be one of Anothosia’s knights. Anyone who spent time inside the Hellhole knew she cared little for the goddess or the knights, preferring always to serve her own self interest. The self-righteous prick who ran the bitch goddess’s knights, His High Assholeness Calto Morlon, never seemed to catch on to the fact Sulya preferred thieves to saints. Still, kindred spirit or not, the similian’s presence made Mathew nervous because Tessla was not in town. As a rule, Sulya was so completely unpredictable Trelsar’s Assassin was one of the few influences who could keep her contained.
He checked his bodyguards to make sure they were paying attention. They were. They knew the blue skinned bitch, too.
Glace, he saw, was quietly speaking to Halberd. Mathew hoped his protégée wasn’t trying to run his normal scam on the girl by using Halberd to frighten her off. Halberd struck Mathew as the type who didn’t know how to play a role.
“Speed thing up,” Mathew ordered the demon. “I’ve other business to attend to.”
Leaning down, Phrandex licked up a few drops of spilled whiskey from the tabletop and released a contented sigh.
“Dear Mathew, I’m going to give you a short lesson on power. The nature of a land is influenced by the nature of its rule. King Vere has become very corrupt, and so Hell now walks on earth and the other gods have become weaker in the king’s domain. Zorce and Athos are stronger because the king decrees their worship. Since the gods of Hell are stronger, the passage from Hell is wider and easier to transverse. Before the kings of Yernden began accepting and then embracing evil the hellhole could only pass up the weakest imps. Those of a more powerful nature were too— thick— for the climb.”
Phrandex picked up Halberd’s discarded tumbler and ran its long tongue inside to clean off the last drop of whiskey. Putting the tumbler down, he set his eyes on Mathew once more.
“Zorce and Athos are very pleased with your king, but unfortunately, Vere will be dead before long. The drugs he takes increases his virility but also makes him gain weight and damages his organs. The king’s heart is strained; his liver rotted. One or the other will soon fail, and without a designated heir the gods of Hell have no guarantee a suitable replacement will take the throne. A man of virtuous intent, or even a man who is merely driven by pragmatic self interest, will severely damage my god’s plans.”
Mathew stared, mesmerized as the demon looked at him with compelling eyes. The soft voice coming out of Phrandex’s scaled features drew on Mathew— pulled on him. Mathew wanted to fall into those eyes. He wanted to kneel before this being and give it homage. He wanted—
Fuck!
Mathew broke free of the demon’s stare.
Demon? No, this thing was more than a common demon. He had faced those before. None were this powerful. None this compelling. He ran his fingers across his fur covered muzzle, wishing his face could frown.
“This is all very entertaining,” he finally said, “but not important to me. I’m a businessman. I have no interest in the politics of man or gods. I’m interested only in money and personal power.”
Phrandex grinned. “You thrive in Yyles because Vere’s corruption has given Hell free reign. You will thrive even more when you are made king.”
Mathew almost bit his tongue. “What!”
“Be proud, Mathew Changer. Zorce has determined you are the most corrupt man in all of Yernden. With you on the throne, Athos and Zorce will own the entire world within five years, and Zorce will control or kill the other gods. It is time for you to leave Yyles. Athos wants you in Grace.”
Mathew released a surprised, barking laugh. “King! Why would I want to be king? I have almost all the money I need. In another year’s time I’ll have the leisure to spend it as I desire. Kings live with nothing but trouble.”
A short scream filled the air. Annoyed, he looked toward the bar and saw Halberd pressing the young girl up against its rail. Glace’s hands were out of sight beneath the bar top so Mathew figured he was undoubtedly reaching for his arm-breaker, a stout length of oak he had used more than once to dissuade enraged customers.
“Wait here,” he told Phrandex while rising from his chair. “I’ll have Glace throw you a bottle of his worst brew.”
“Take care the troll-get doesn’t kill you before you fill Athos’ss need,” Phrandex warned.
“Trolls are three times Halberd’s size,” Mathew protested.
“His mother was very large,” the demon explained, “but his father was nothing more than a very determined human with two pounds of nightshade mixed in a beef stew. Your tall friend is the product of rape. I know because my mother was there at the time. The event, she says, was delicious.”
“I’m sure it was very droll.” Mathew feigned a lack of interest, but his attention focused all the more tightly on Halberd. Glace’s bone-breaker would have little effect on a being who was part troll. He raised his voice. “Glace!”
Glace jerked to a stop in mid-swing. Pulling his mouth away from Kat’s neck, the half-troll looked at the thief with laughing eyes. Her top partly torn away, Kat’s saucy attitude seemed to have deteriorated in direct proportion to the amount of flesh she now revealed.
“Swing it boy,” Halberd growled, “and see how many pieces I break you into. Did you think I’d play your game? I don‘t play games, lad me buck. I don‘t play at all.”
After a quick glance at Mathew, Glace very slowly set his club down.
Mathew gestured for his bodyguards to remain seated and strode angrily toward the bar. Fury at Glace filled him, but strangely, so did alarm. Playing up to the boy’s ideals was a great inconvenience, but it would be a greater inconvenience to find another who could so completely fill Glace’s role.
Sulya grabbed his arm when he went by. “Let them play, dearest. The little slut can’t remain a virgin forever.”
Mathew gave her an angry, yellow-eyed glare. Smiling, Sulya released his arm and leaned sultrily against the young man. From the look in his eyes, Mathew knew his soul had been enslaved for a very long time.
“This is Puppy,” Sulya said, and she ran her finger along a throbbin
g blue vein in his neck. “Do you like him?.You can bite out his throat if you want. You’ll so enjoy the taste of his blood.”
Growling low, Mathew snapped at the air with frustration, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the young man’s throbbing pulse. Deep inside, something hungered. His clawed fingers ached to rip into the man’s flesh.
“There’s a reason why you chose now to come in here,” he managed to grate out. “Do you know Athos’ss pretend demon or the half-troll?”
“Phrandex is actually a mixed-blood devil in disguise,” she admitted, “but he is very young, and he‘s never been let out to play before. The words he delivered were mine, spoken with his mouth but through my intent. As for him belonging to Athos, I‘m afraid dear Athos barely knows Phrandex exists.”
Mathew studied her carefully. “So you’re declaring your allegiance to Zorce and dropping the goddess.”
“I’m declaring it to you,” Sulya said, chuckling lightly. “I’ve no fear you’ll pass news of my true master along, not when you make your base right at Hell’s front door. You are very much a contained hound.”
Fighting down his frustration, Mathew snapped his jaws once again, tore his gaze from her eyes, and strode to the bar. Halberd was back to molesting the girl. She struggled furiously against his grip and seemed to be fighting free, but it was apparent to Mathew the giant toyed with her to increase his pleasure. She almost pulled loose, but Halberd took a tighter grip with one hand and tore her sleeve with the other. A thin line of blood trailed from the corner of her lips. More blood marred her neck where Halberd’s teeth had sunk deep. Her breasts, swinging free of her torn shirt, already wore bruises. The sight of her injuries drew Mathew. He wanted to take her in his arms, wanted to lick the bitter wetness away, wanted to taste her sweet wine.
But he did not.
Instead, he set his hand on the half-troll’s shoulder and tried to pull Halberd around. Halberd did not move an inch, but he did pause and look at Mathew.
“Are you trying to keep me from my fun?”
“I haven’t used her yet,” Mathew answered, trying to sound reasonable despite the ire he still felt for Sulya. “I always break the new ones in first.” He opened his mouth slightly and allowed a trace of drool to roll free and fall to the floor while giving the girl his best leer. “My face isn’t my only furry thing ”
She cringed, and the sight of her fright gave Mathew a thrill. The smell of her blood filled his head. Desire flushed through him. If not for Glace’s watching eyes, he would have leapt.
“I thought you didn’t want her.” Halberd cocked his head curiously to one side.
“I changed my mind.” Mathew nodded at Glace. “Get last night’s gambling take and bring it here.”
Glace studied him suspiciously, but after a few moments he moved several feet down the bar, reached underneath, and brought up two leather bags twice the size of his fists. At the sight of the money, Farnon and the other guards stood up and moved closer, ready for trouble. Carrying the bags, Glace walked back to Mathew and set them on the bar top.
“Your pay,” Mathew said to the half-troll. “I’ll count out half now and give you the rest when the job is done.” He looked to Glace and gestured at Phrandex. “Throw a bottle of our worst over to the devil.”
Frowning, Glace nodded, grabbed a bottle, and tossed.
Halberd released his hold on Kat. She instantly scrambled over the bar’s top and threw herself behind Glace. She had, Mathew noticed, grabbed Glace’s bone-breaker on the way.
“Half only?” Halberd said. “I don’t like that at all. You’re asking me to travel back here for free. Weeks of extra effort without extra pay.”
“I’ll pay for your time,” Mathew offered, feeling magnanimous about the matter since he already planned on throwing the half-troll down the tavern’s hellhole when Halberd returned.
“I have a better idea!” Halberd snapped. “Why don’t I just take what you have here and pretend I’m going to do your job?”
“Those bags hold more than twice what you asked,” Mathew pointed out reasonably. Making a sign for his guards to close in, he quickly drew one of his knives.
He never saw Halberd Breaker move, the half-troll was so fast. The knife was ripped from Mathew’s hand and he was lifted into the air before he had time to draw in a breath. A guard darted in and Halberd roared rage when a quick sword thrust cut into his side. His arms jerked, and then Mathew flew uncontrollably through the air. He crashed into a table, heard wood and bone crack, and fell helplessly to the floor. A strange creature, breathing heavy fumes, lay beside him, and this made Mathew’s head momentarily swim with confusion until he realized Phrandex had lost its demon illusion after emptying the whiskey bottle.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Mathew felt broken ribs grate when they magically settled back into place.
Not everything about his curse was a handicap.
Sulya’s delighted laugh rang through the suddenly still air, and then the tavern filled with the sound of ripping flesh and pained screams.
Breathing hard past his incompletely healed ribs, Mathew pulled himself erect to see two of his guards lying dead. Five others cautiously circled Halberd while another raced out the tavern’s door, leaving his sword behind.
Halberd held both sacks of coins in one overlarge hand and pulled a sword out of his belly with the other. A thin trail of blood ran down his front, but not nearly enough for the size of the wound.
“It’s an easy enough thing, me lads,” he said cheerfully once he threw the sword to the floor and drew out his hand-ax. “I can walk out yon door after killing the wolf, all friendly like, and each of you get to live.” He waved the ax suggestively. “Or you can try to stop me.”
The guards looked at the thin trail of red marking his belly, glanced at each other, and then to Mathew.
“I quit,” Farnon said.
“You’re dead,” Mathew promised.
“I am if I fight this thing,” Farnon admitted. “Sorry.”
Every remaining guard faded out the tavern’s door.
“All I want is to kill your boss and leave,” Halberd said to the room. “Be smart. You‘re all too weak to handle the likes of me.” He grinned at Mathew. “Something I forgot to mention. Reason I came to Yylse is because Count Wencheck hired me to take care of a small matter.” His grin grew even larger. “But I’m not unreasonable. If you pay me six times his rate I’ll walk out the door, taking pretty little Kat with me.”
“My friend will be ruined inside a week if he lets you leave,” Sulya supplied helpfully. “It will be a sign of weakness. Mathew darling. Do be a dear and make it bloody. I haven’t seen a good fight for more than a week.”
“Gladly,” Mathew said, furious at himself for not realizing Halberd already had a master. Moving quickly, he pulled knives from all his hidden sheaths and threw them with the same accuracy that allowed him to succeed on the streets when still a child. He threw at gut, throat, chest and groin, targeting each area twice.
And missed.
Unbelieving, Mathew watched Halberd’s form blur into sudden motion. When the man stopped, all eight blades jutted from the two money bags. Both bags slowly ripped apart, and with a musical jangle, a cascade of coins poured out.
Sadly shaking his head, Halberd let the empty bags fall from his hand. “You missed,” he said, “but I won’t.”
Halberd’s ax spun through the air and slammed into Mathew’s chest. Gasping, Mathew released a startled yelp and staggered back. He felt his chest split apart and looked down, knowing he would see a gaping wound pouring out blood, but he wasn’t bleeding. The ax lay on the wooden floor.
“Haft first,” Halberd said, shaking his head with self-disgust. “I never seem to get the spin right.” He took three steps forward, wrapped Mathew in one of his massive arms and grabbed his throat with the other hand. “I just realized you make more in one night than I do in six months. Consider this a hostile takeover. Are you ready to die?”
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Mathew listened to the affable voice, looked into flat dead eyes, and knew what people saw when they stared into his own. Drawing in a ragged breath past the iron grip, he felt his heart shudder and begin beating once again. Glace rose up from behind the bar.
“No,” Mathew whispered with all the air he had left, “I’m not.”
“I really like this part,” Halberd said companionably, and he began to slowly squeeze. Mathew tried to snap at the man’s wrist, but his head was held in a vice grip. His mangled throat already felt like it wasn’t there.
“Me too,” Glace said, and through a red haze Mathew watched two knives fly through the air. Halberd cursed, released Mathew’s neck, and groped his free hand toward his back.
Then, like a giant oak, he fell. Mathew fought against the pull of the giant’s arm, but even wounded, Halberd’s strength was too much for him. They struck the floorboards hard enough to raise a screen of dust.
“I separated his spine!” Glace yelled while he leaped over the bar. “Hold on!” He reached for a fallen sword.
Halberd’s leg lashed out and caught Glace on the side of his face, flinging him away. “I’m already healing,” Halberd whispered into Mathew’s ear. “Now I’m going to kill you.”
“No,” Mathew said, “You’re not.” And he darted his head forward to fasten his fangs into the creature’s neck. From this close, not even a half-troll could dodge his attack.
Howling, Halberd tried to rip Mathew away, but Mathew’s teeth were fixed. Heady blood filled his mouth. A new strength rushed through his body. Halberd mouthed curses and struggled, but Glace stood above them, a sword in his hands, swinging down again and again, plunging the blade repeatedly into Halberd’s body. The foul aroma of bile and shit and the sweet scent of blood filled Mathew’s nostrils. He tore out a chunk of flesh, darted his head back in, and ripped loose a throbbing artery. Flesh and vessels writhed beneath his teeth while the unnatural body tried to find some way to heal, but Mathew tore twice as fast as flesh knitted while Kat swung Halberd‘s ax into the troll-gets right leg Severed, the leg fell away. Ignoring everything else, Mathew chewed and drank. Blood jetted over him, and then Halberd lay still.