The Demons We See

by Krista D. Ball

  Father Michael and Allegra stepped forward and greeted the middle-aged woman. Father Michael gave the greeting. “On behalf of the Holy Father in Orsini, welcome to our humble abbey. May the grace of the Lord God Almighty shine upon your efforts while you are here.”

  The woman wearily smiled. “I am Shu Adolo, under-secretary to Queen Portia of Cartossa. This is…”

  Allegra’s jaw dropped. She knew exactly who she was staring at. “General Bonacieux.”

  The General was a tall, broad man with ruddy, angular features that announced he would have always been described with words like rugged as opposed to handsome. He had two long scars down one side of his face, skipping over the eye.

  And he was the most feared man among mages.

  Allegra swallowed her fear and trepidation. She outstretched her hand and said, “General, it is a pleasure to greet you. We met six years ago at Wellington Palace. I am…”

  “The mage.” He looked her up and down appraisingly, not accepting her outstretched hand. “I didn’t believe the news, but it’s clear the Holy Father really is a mage lover. No wonder things are falling apart.”

  Allegra paused long enough to ensure she wore a neutral, emotionless expression and removed all heat from her voice. “I am Allegra, Contessa of Marsina, and I welcome you here to the epicenter of the peace talks.”

  “I have informed Her Majesty that she cannot attend this little show until I deem it safe and not a total waste of her time.” Bonacieux sneered down at her. “So far, the evidence is not encouraging.”

  Allegra summoned up her will and forced a smile until her cheek muscles ached. “How lucky for the queen to have a military general who cares so much about both her time and her person.”

  Bonacieux ignored her and turned to Father Michael. “Where will I be billeted? I don’t wish to be near any of the rabble that we passed on the journey here. Disgusting creatures.”

  “Well, General, we were not expecting you, so we are ill-equipped to—”

  Allegra interrupted. “You can have my villa.”

  Bonacieux didn’t look at her. “I don’t require anything cushy and pampered. I am a soldier, not a puffed-up mage.”

  Father Michael chuckled. “Excellent. Then the Contessa’s old villa will be perfect for you, for you shall find no comforts there.”

  “Unless, of course, it is too rustic for you,” Allegra said. Her smile was still intact. Her face ached.

  The general finally turned his attention to her. They both knew he always stayed in the best suites when he visited. In fact, he stayed in the royal suites which Allegra currently occupied. She could imagine his rage when he discovered that after a night or two freezing in her old, little cottage on the outskirts of the abbey.

  She had never interacted with Bonacieux during his three previous visits to the Abbey, but she’d heard enough about him to know life was about to become unbearable.

  “Tell me, girl, is it true you have plans to bring witches into the discussions?”

  She stared at him for a moment, wondering if she should correct any of his statements. She decided they were meant to sting her, so she didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her so stung. “Oh, they are already here, General. Some have been here for months. I believe you even know one of them.” At his questioning expression, she said, “Walter Cram.”

  Bonacieux’s jaw clenched. Allegra kept on smiling.

  “I shouldn’t have expected much better from the likes of you, but really, Father, I’m surprised you would allow this.”

  “The Almighty does not condition his love, so neither shall I,” Father Michael said, a hint of chastisement in his voice.

  “No, but we do have a clear picture of who is to be trusted and inherently not, don’t we?” the general said. “How will you ensure there are no elementals in the mage delegations, beyond the outlaw?”

  “I don’t understand your question,” Allegra said sweetly.

  “How will you determine if spies have infiltrated the mages?” he said, slower, as if she was a dim-witted child.

  “I hope to attract several key rebellion leaders and abolitionists. So, to answer your question, I won’t care if the mages aren’t all exactly who they claim to be.”

  The general stared at her. “So you will be luring them here to arrest them?”

  “No,” Allegra said with a tight smile. “I have authorized that elemental mages can attend the peace talks, in safety, with no risk of arrest both upon arrival and departure.”

  “That is illegal,” the general said.

  Allegra drew in a breath and forced out a second wave of cheek-aching smiles. “On the contrary, General, I am permitted. Unlike you, Sir, and your policy of trapping people inside buildings until they burn to a crisp because one of them might be an elemental.” Her voice turned icy. “But you don’t see me asking Captain Rainier here to arrest you, now do you? So if you wish to remain here under the banner of truce, then you shall stay away from the matches.”

  He took a step toward her, hoping to use his height to intimidate her. He loomed over her, and she’d have to crane her neck if she wanted to look him in the eye. Instead, she turned her back on him. She took several steps before saying, “Are you coming, General? The Father and I would be pleased to escort you to your new rustic home for your visit.”

  ****

  Allegra sat at her desk blurry-eyed. She’d spent a goodly part of the previous evening being belittled by General Bonacieux at an impromptu reception for him. He was displeased with the lack of a fish dish, as well as the sorry state of the abbey’s supper table. It took several assurances and downright grovelling by Father Michael before Bonacieux was convinced their supper’s near “poverty” was due to a late thaw of the snow and nothing more.

  Bald-faced lies, of course, but Allegra appreciated any bishop who could lie through his teeth to protect the will of the Almighty. And the will of the Almighty had been Father Michael asking residents of the abbey to reduce their table for the assistance of the poor.

  After the reception supper, Allegra spent several hours responding to letters. Some asked her advice on how best to deal with small pockets of unrest. As ever, Allegra urged compassion, common sense, and the will of the Almighty to be followed. For those with border disputes and large-scale rebellions, Allegra offered to arbitrate between local rebellion leaders and appointed officials. She said the rebels would trust her because she had Walter Cram here as a show of faith.

  Just as she was readying for bed, Walter crashed into her suites through the hidden servant entrance in her prayer closet. He’d found more demon markings, three in a row this time. Walter feared that he might open them into one large rift and he’d need assistance defeating what he called a “small” demon. Thankfully, under Walter’s instruction, Allegra was skilled enough to close the smaller symbols. It took them under an hour and the danger was resolved.

  Still, Allegra wasn’t coping well. She’d somewhat accepted there were things in existence beyond what her skepticism wanted to believe. That she was dealing with through nightmares and cold sweats. That she could eventually handle. It was the potential risk these demon rifts would cause. Walter feared that the curtain between their world and the demon world would eventually weaken and rip if these portals kept opening.

  After that horrible realization, Allegra got little sleep. She’d instructed Walter to find out whoever was doing this. Walter had already written to some trusted friends of his for them to join him at the abbey. He said they could help investigate the demon summonings, as she was risking too much running around in the middle of the night with him. She agreed whole-heartedly and offered safe harbor to Walter’s friends.

  Allegra was growing tired of mornings like these, where she ran on only a couple hours of bad sleep. She struggled to maintain her focus on her letter, yet another dispute between a factory worker whose mages were purposely, he said, ruining their enchantments and costing him
money. So he cracked down, and then they all went on strike. And then the militia were called in. And then things got predictably out of hand.

  Footsteps drew her attention to the door and, a moment later, Stanton marched into her office. “We have a problem with Bonacieux.”

  “Did he freeze to death last night?”

  “He moved into the North Wing shortly after you retired for bed.”

  Allegra put her pencil down and smiled up at the captain. She motioned at the seat across from her and he took it.

  “So your problem is Bonacieux survived the night?”

  Stanton gave her a wry smile. “I’d best not answer that. I’m not feeling charitable. He has sent several of his men into the village to investigate elemental activity.”

  “Oh, that does not sound good.” Allegra leaned back in her chair. “Did you explain to him that we have had no credible magical issues since the refugees arrived?”

  “Yes. I won’t repeat his reply. He’s also posted soldiers in the corridors.”

  “But the local militia and the Consorts are already providing internal security,” Allegra said. “Did Father Michael agree to this?”

  “Father Michael is rather upset with Bonacieux right now, as two of his soldiers broke into the bishop’s bedroom in the middle of the night.”

  “Good Lord, why?”

  “To see if they could catch him doing magic.”

  Allegra stared at him in confusion. “Setting aside the fact that Father Michael is not a mage, what are they even trying to prove? Hand me some thread and I could embroider a small magical talisman into your cravat right now.”

  Stanton raised his hands and said, “Exactly.”

  “What did Father Michael say?”

  “He said it was your area of responsibility as he feared he was about to request Bonacieux’s excommunication.”

  “I see. Well, can you have someone fetch the General for me?”

  Stanton shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I already spoke with him. He said if you wished to say anything to him, you could go to his study. He does not take orders from…It’s not important what he called you beyond that he does not respect your office. Or, more accurately, you.”

  Allegra snorted. “I see someone thinks I’m terrified of his scowl.”

  “Allegra,” Stanton said, warning in his voice.

  “My dear Captain, are you attempting to chide me?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a wicked smile. “I simply mean to caution your anger. He is a vile rat, but he knows how to suck the best of us into the sewers. I wouldn’t want to see that happen to you.”

  Allegra smiled at him and said, “Stanton, I have come to appreciate your company and guidance over these last months.”

  “But?”

  Allegra’s smile widened. “This isn’t my first dance.”

  “I never thought it was. Try not to step on his toes.”

  She raised her voice and called out to Serafina, who was busy organizing letters in the main sitting room. When the young woman rushed in, Allegra said, “Have General Bonacieux sent for. If he refuses to come, bring me the men responsible for any harassment of mages, no matter how small. That will get his attention.”

  Chapter 23

  It took three days, but General Bonacieux eventually darkened Allegra’s door. Each week began with a small dinner in Allegra’s suite, with Father Michael, Lex, Stanton, Dodd, Serafina, Walter, and Nathan, attended by one lone footman. Stanton refused to call the meal dinner as he said he was a cultured man from Orsini and this was clearly a late breakfast or an early luncheon.

  “Father Michael, it’s been months now. Please, for the love of the Almighty, ask the servants to serve breakfast like the rest of the world,” Stanton complained good-naturedly as he did at every dinner meeting.

  “My dear Captain,” Father Michael replied in between sips of his beet soup, “if we had breakfast like you worldly people at Orsini Palace, we would never know the simple joy of old cellar beets turned into soup.”

  “We could have the soup for luncheon,” Stanton protested.

  And then the conversation, as ever, devolved into an argument over the old country style of two meals a day and the more fashionable three daily meals. In between friendly banter over mealtime, they also discussed the upcoming concerns for the week, visitors, meetings, ongoing aid necessary to keep Borro going, and so on. So that was when Bonacieux decided to barge in.

  He threw open her closed doors, scanned around until his eyes locked on Allegra. “How dare you!”

  “Good morning, General,” Allegra said. “Should I assume you are here to discuss my dismissal of your men?”

  “How dare you dismiss my men from the abbey! On what grounds?”

  Allegra had been prepared for this outburst, so she was pleased that she had several witnesses for it. If nothing else, the presence of her friends helped bolster her courage. She dipped her spoon into the cow marrow in broth she’d just been served by the abbey’s liveried footman.

  “Oh, the marrow is excellent,” Allegra said. “As for your men, they were harassing citizens under my protection and, therefore, I’ve asked them to leave under threat of arrest.”

  “You have no right!”

  “I have every right to do my duty.”

  “You should have informed me, witch!”

  “I prefer the title, Your Ladyship, but I’ll accept Your Excellency,” Allegra said before dipping her spoon back into her bone marrow. “This is delicious.”

  Bonacieux slammed his fist down on the corner of the dining table. “I am not to be trifled with, little girl.”

  Allegra put her spoon down. She made a show of cleaning off her hands in her napkin so that he would not see her tremble. She held the napkin in her hands, giving her fingers a task. “I requested your presence and assistance three days ago. You have refused to work with me. You have refused all civil discourse. Instead, you have abused the hospitality of the abbey and of the Bishop monstrously. You might think yourself above the law everywhere because Queen Portia is too young to put you in your place.”

  “Outrageous!” he shouted. “I am a loyal subject…”

  “You forget yourself, Mathias Bonacieux. I am Allegra, Contessa of Marsina, Arbiter of Justice for the Holy Orsini Cathedral, anointed by the Holy Father himself. You, General, are the son of a butcher.”

  “The Queen will hear of this.”

  “I hope so. I wrote to her yesterday detailing the disrespect you’ve shown me. I’ve also written to Grand Duchess Katherine. We’re cousins, you see, or had you forgotten that small fact while you tried to insult me?”

  “I don’t take orders from witches,” Bonacieux said.

  Stanton rose. “No, but you will take orders from the Duke of Barrington, Captain of the Holy Father’s Own Consorts. Am I to understand you are threatening the Arbiter?”

  Bonacieux clenched his jaw. “No.”

  “Good. Master Nathan here coordinates the Arbiter’s very busy schedule. If you wish to speak to her further about this topic, please speak with him,” Stanton said. “I’m sure he can arrange a time that is both convenient for her and the increased personal security she will require for your visit.”

  Bonacieux narrowed his eyes and said, “This isn’t over, witch bitch.”

  “The bone marrow is excellent,” Allegra said. She turned to the footman. “Hans, can you see the General out, please? And fetch more marrow. This is simply exceptional.”

  “Of course, Your Excellency.”

  Maybe it was Allegra’s imagination, but she thought Hans put extra emphasis on her title for Bonacieux’s education.

  ****

  Allegra yawned into the back of her hand. She’d been meeting with Walter and his two elemental friends—who refused to give their names and who wrapped their faces so she couldn’t identify them. She’d received an update of the Borro Village situation, and then a
nother two different reports on anti-abolition activity in Cartossa and one for Westumberland’s situation over the winter. Grim was used a lot.

  She was exhausted, and it was a tiredness that sleep alone couldn’t conquer. Then again, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept through the night. Between her nightmares, her racing mind, and her jaunts into the darkness with Walter, she was barely conscious most days.

  One more meeting. All she needed was to get through one more meeting.

  “I’m pleased to say that Martin and Rahna returned today with the West Cartossa Abolitionist Union representatives,” Lex said.

  “I’ve arranged for a reception to be held tomorrow at supper to meet them,” Nathan said, consulting his ledger. “That would allow Her Excellency to also meet with Baron Amator and Lady Berard.”

  “Who are they?” Allegra asked.

  “They are who the West Cartossa Unionists are fighting against.”

  Allegra groaned. “Serafina, you’re in charge of smoothing out the feathers before I get there. So help them if I have to explain why ‘witch bitch’ is offensive one more time.”

  “I am already prepared, Your Excellency,” Serafina said confidently. “I have spoken with the abolitionists and as soon as the others arrive, I will do the same.”

  “The abolitionists are never the problem,” Allegra said through a yawn.

  “We can’t be seen taking sides,” Serafina said.

  Allegra made a grunt that was equal parts derision and agreement. “Have the thefts settled down in the village?”

  Dodd made a so-so gesture. “Father Michael’s people have been encouraging the local farms to hire some of the younger boys to help keep them out of trouble. Most of the thieves are children ten to fourteen, mostly boys. So we’re trying to find positions for them. Father?”

  Father Michael nodded. “Many of them are bored and poor, which is a terrible combination. There’s so little work in Borro that children are getting into trouble. I’ve also requested that the Cathedral send us three more lay sisters to assist with basic education. The two sisters and four brothers here are overtaxed with offering basic schooling to the very little children.”