Half-Demon's Fortune

by Lina J. Potter

  She asked for what she needed, no more, no less. Just to be on the safe side, she took a dagger in her hand. Not for physical protection—what could she do to a demon? She held the blade in such a way to easily injure herself if anything happened. Demons could charm people, after all. In that case, pain was the best remedy.

  Risk? Of course, it was a risk! But she had one chance in a hundred. With her father and Amorta, she wouldn’t even have that. The baron’s visits grew more and more frequent, and each time, his son stayed at the castle longer, while the servants obeyed Innis less and less. And when that filth tried to kiss her in a dark corner, she wanted to kill him. She had to make do with a knee to the groin instead of a dagger, but...a demon could do that in her place.

  She would destroy her soul, or, at least, that was what the church said. Whatever. Better to lose my soul than betray my bloodline. Her ancestors, her kin...even if she died in the attempt, at least she would be able to look them in the eyes and know that she had done everything she could. And if she didn’t even try, if she submitted, a knife would be a better fate. But that would be a betrayal as well. Her ancestors didn’t give her life for her to take the coward’s way out.

  Innis examined the complete pentagram one more time.

  Just like that—straight as if drawn with a ruler. And now...

  She placed the candles in the corners, lit them, focused, and said the words. A summoning didn’t require much. A demon would be glad to get a chance to go through.

  Innis never realized the moment that everything went wrong. The spell started to draw too much power, the flames of the candles burst out, growing elbow-long, and pain flashed in her chest. Hold on, girl! You will make it!

  As she started the last phrase, she was barely breathing. She even fell to her knees, as standing up became too hard for her, and she was afraid of falling down. Still, her words were as stubborn as ever, as if a granite wall from her mother’s grave was pushing against her back. And then she felt somebody take her load and share it, suddenly, breathing became so much easier.

  She doggedly finished the last phrase and pressed her forehead against the icy floor.

  So much nausea.

  Please don’t black out, please don’t black out...

  As her witch senses grew sharper, she already knew that she had succeeded.

  He has come...

  ***

  I, Alexander Leonard Radenor, am only a demon halfway. That’s a fact. But I am, as it turns out, a complete idiot, which, as much as it pains me to say, is also a fact—a stubborn one.

  They taught me so much, told me so many things, yet no! Pride brings a demon’s fall. Or is it hubris?

  Damned if I know. They say that pride doesn’t allow a nobleman to fall to his knees before a king, and hubris, before a lord. But I didn’t have quite the same problem. Anyway, I should probably start with the beginning, or I’ll start spitting venom.

  Fine, I’m unable to do that physically. But I’m a half-demon; there are lots of other ways I could get you.

  Anyway...

  When I got the throne, everything was fine. I didn’t really have any competition; Rudolph and all of his children, except for Carlie’s daughter, were dead, Abigail was in the convent, and I had already hanged most of her relatives. Yeah, I was a real villain. I hadn’t even flinched as I had done that, and the Chartreuses never visited me in my dreams or at night. It’s not like they were innocents, after all! Those bastards should have been strangled in their cradles!

  Oh well.

  After becoming the king, I wanted to howl in agony. Literally. Of course, the king could avoid real work, but then, that burden would fall on his successor and it wouldn’t be long before he appeared, either. Carefree kings didn’t rule long.

  That is why the first thing I did was flood the capital with ghosts. They haunted each manor and reported to me about all noblemen. After that, I traveled across the kingdom with the same goal in mind.

  The nobles, of course, thought that just like Rudolph, I visited the castle to hunt, see the ladies, and have some fun. I had to disappoint them. I did accept gifts, of course, and allowed the women in, but to a limited extent, by which I mean that only for the duration of the act. Afterward, I kicked them out. I couldn’t and wouldn’t spend nights with anyone. That was too intimate for me.

  My family was happy. I visited them for just a couple of days. Rick was minting coin, Henry was chasing bandits in the mountains, and Martha...

  Well, Martha begged me to take her with me. She was bored in Torrin and had nothing left to do. I was her favorite, after all, her beloved and adored baby. She didn’t feel that way about Carlie’s girl.

  I thought for a while and agreed. That was to happen a bit later, however, as I needed things to calm down in the capital first.

  Martha had been asking for half a year and hugged me tightly, pleased. The bastard that I was, one of my thoughts was that she could take care of some of my problems for me. She was a necromancer as well, after all. She could deal with the spirits, for instance.

  I also was going to populate the palace with “hunting trophies.” I would take stuffed wolves, bears, foxes, boars, as big and scary as I could find, place some live bones inside, and summon ghosts. They could stand in corners, guarding the place, and in case of danger... They weren’t alive! They could be hacked and slashed, and nothing would hurt them, unlike humans. And they would either tear the troublemaker apart, stomp them to death, or rend them with their teeth, depending on their equipment.

  But then again, it would be pretty hard for me to arrange myself. No, power wasn’t the problem; I had more than enough. Time was. Martha could also help me with that, however.

  Rene would have been an invaluable assistant, but he had no desire to leave Torrin, which proved to be a good home for him, Cassie, and the children. They became great parents for Carlie and Rudolph’s child, although everyone thought that the girl was their own daughter. She didn’t seem to have any magic talent, which was for the best, really. Let her stay a normal child. Later, I would find her a husband.

  I loved the time spent in Torrin. I had left all the courtiers beyond the borders of the county, taking only Tommy with myself. I hadn’t even called Rene Morinar. He hadn’t proven his loyalty, yet. True, he was useful, smart, and serious-minded, but I had yet to test him. Power had broken even stronger people.

  ***

  After leaving Torrin, I buried myself in work.

  I had to ride around the provinces, including the recently annexed Rataver, and perform a “loyalty test” in the simplest way. I went to a local graveyard, raised a few dead, preferably executed not long ago, and questioned them. They couldn’t lie to a necromancer, so...

  Based on the results, I hanged some lords and rewarded others, then left them a collection of my orders and headed to the next place.

  The orders were simple. Rick had written them. First, the noblemen were forbidden from minting their own coin. Second, the Church couldn’t collect a tithe. Donations were another matter, but those were voluntary. If nobody wanted to donate, then sorry guys. Blackmail and extortion would get you hanged. Third, I set specific tax amounts and explained to the officials that collecting extra would cost them dearly. I would hang them, maybe even by their feet.

  They didn’t believe me at first, but I still had my ghostly spies, and when I returned to those lands, they reported everything to me. After twelve hanged governors, the rest started to fear me. They were taking bribes practically in darkness and under the blanket, and yes, that meant bribes of the most intimate sort. But the spirits were ever watchful, and heads were rolling.

  Morinar, by the way, was quite pleased. Now, the treasury had a much bigger influx of money compared to the past. No, he wasn’t stealing. For the time being, he was investing in craftsmen, merchants, roads, roadside taverns... Was that not noble enough? It didn’t matter as long as it made a profit!

  I was genuinely trying to belabor the subject and often
stayed with him almost until the morning.

  Balls? Seriously? Which balls? I had no time for them! Jousts? What are you talking about?

  I did arrange parties and festivals for the common people, but the only entertainment in the royal palace was work. If anyone got bored, they could always wash the floor or wipe the dust, I didn’t mind.

  The knights objected. Soon, they infuriated me to the point that I sent them away, and not just anywhere, but to fight bandits.

  Was it a dishonorable job? But a fun one! Your good old hunting, but the prey was humans. Happy pursuit, gentlemen! I had no sympathy for the bandits. They had led a good life during Rudolph’s reign; that was enough. Time to go home and start working, plowing the field, raising children. It does sound dull, on that we could agree. Freedom was more fun, but freedom couldn’t last long.

  The knights grumbled, but a reward for the most captured bandits cheered them up. Now that was interesting! Boys will be boys, even if clad in iron. The rest was a formality.

  We made the roads safer and repaired them, improving trade. That gave us money that we invested in mines and industry, then used those funds to help the guilds, the fleet, stop the pirates, equip the army... We were slow and systematic; it was painstaking.

  The most important thing was to determine our priorities, our investments, our returns. That was Morinar’s job. I coordinated his plans with Rick, sometimes corrected them, and worked hard. The country breathed a little bit easier.

  And I relaxed, idiot boy that I was. What a rookie! I didn’t even think that, like a midwinter piglet, they were fattening me up for the feast. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  After all, Darius had implied that I would have regrets later.

  I did have some plans to deal with Riolon, but not yet. The Vednian Forest, the Mining Ridge...

  They turned out to be faster. After two years of my reign, Darius sent me a proposal, offering to introduce me to his sister. I was the king and the last in line. That wasn’t good at all.

  I knew that, but was in no hurry to get married. I did have a few rolls in the hay with a couple of court ladies, but that wasn’t especially interesting. As soon as we finished, they started whining and asking me for trinkets, some land for their fathers, or to help their brothers with their trials...

  I could have just ignored that, of course, but they would have vilified me as a penny-pincher to the entire kingdom. And if I gave in, I would have violated my own laws. They weren’t asking me for no reason, either. More often than not, they were trying to manipulate me, use me. They were trying hard, too, but I couldn’t help but feel an ugly aftertaste. A soapy flavor, if you’d like.

  I had to forget about the court beauties and go to Mistress Eliza’s establishment. I talked to her, explained the situation, and twice a week, started visiting a nice and lovely girl. I paid her in gold, sometimes gave her expensive trinkets...at least she was drinking potions so I wouldn’t have to deal with possible bastard children.

  Oh, yes. Love!

  Sorry then. Maybe the ladies had become rotten during Rudolph’s rule, or maybe I was just unlucky, but nobody really loved me. The only thing they cared about was profit. I knew that for a fact, thanks to my ghosts.

  And then, there was Carlie.

  Sometimes, I really wanted to kill her. Less than a week after giving birth, she came to me.

  “Alex, we need to talk.”

  I wouldn’t want that talk in a thousand years. Yet...

  “About what?”

  “I want my daughter to be recognized as a princess.”

  “Maybe even an heir?”

  My former love didn’t quite catch the irony in my voice.

  “Why not?”

  I chuckled, then gave Carlie a key.

  “Here.”

  I also took out a pouch full of gold from my desk and handed it to her.

  “What’s this? What is it for?”

  “That’s a key to the tomb with Rudolph’s body. Take a lock of his hair, go to a life mage, pay him, and compare with your daughter’s. If they match, great. If not...sorry, it’s not like you were only sleeping with my uncle, were you?”

  “Alex! I am sure!”

  “Well, if the mage is sure, too, come to me.”

  “You...”

  Carlie left, pouring a bucket of resentment over me. She came back three days later.

  “Here’s the testament!”

  I read it, then sighed.

  “Carlie, how much did you pay the mage?”

  “Ummm...”

  “I can find out myself. He’ll be hanged, you’ll be sent to a convent. I did check it myself, back in the brothel. They have their own life mage.”

  Gingers blush so easily. Once, I had thought that attractive.

  “Alex...”

  “I understand, Viscountess. If you want to stay at court, be quiet. Otherwise, even a convent would seem a paradise to you. Got it?”

  She got it, but she didn’t believe it. And why do the minstrels sing that old love never rusts? After that much acid, it would just melt away.

  Carlie, oh Carlie...

  But all of that happened way before the wedding.

  ***

  Princess Dariola. What did she look like? Not a beauty, or at least I didn’t think so. She was tall, half a head taller than me, and thin as a rail. She had blonde hair and blue, watery eyes, and her lips were so pale they seemed almost white. She did have nice hands, with long thin fingers, worthy of an artist or a musician.

  I also liked her voice: high-pitched, clear. She would probably sound great singing merry songs somewhere in a meadow, during summer.

  Alas, but during our introduction, I didn’t seem to attract her much, either. I guess she thought me too weak and fragile, and I had no wish to disprove her.

  So, I just kissed her hand.

  “Your Highness.” Just a neutral phrase. No “My princess” or “Welcome to my kingdom.” They made me an offer I could hardly refuse, and that was enough.

  Oh, I had divorced soon after getting crowned. The church granted me my request, even if they did try to negotiate. Your Majesty, of course, we’re ready to help you in any way you want, but we’ve gotten so poor lately...

  I invited the priests to go work in the free hospitals on top of not receiving a tithe, on a mandatory basis.

  They seemed opposed to that, and so the issue was resolved soon and in my favor.

  Your Majesty wants a divorce? In an instant! A marriage with an unholy creature isn’t valid anyway.

  Oh, so it wasn’t even consummated? You aren’t lying, our mages see everything. Then the marriage will be annulled. Congratulations, Your Majesty!

  With my conscience clear, I immersed myself in country matters.

  Taxes, income, expenses, traveling, calculations, executions, appointments—all of that took so much time that I was going crazy.

  Fortunately, Martha soon arrived to take the ghosts off my hands. After they started talking to her, I was relieved. I already had my hands full with trying to integrate new regions into the kingdom. I remembered about women only in the morning for about five minutes. Affairs with court ladies? Please! I had no energy and no desire for that. I wondered if I would ever get some time for myself.

  Darius’ letter arrived about a year later.

  He said that he had overreacted; of course, I didn’t have to share the spoils of my victory if Riolon hadn’t participated in the battle. But two countries at odds wasn’t a nice situation, and I probably was sad, all alone without a wife. But he had a sister—Her Highness Princess Dariola Elianol of Riolon—and maybe...

  I pondered that for a while, about half a year.

  Why not, really? But the dowry would have to include everything that Riolon had torn away from Radenor during Rudolph’s reign, and maybe even a bit more. Otherwise, go find her a husband someplace else.

  Of course, neither Darius nor his father was pleased with that turn of events. They invited me to visit them an
d discuss everything there.

  Fine, then. I agreed and inspected the princess the way that a naturalist examines a new species. She was cute, I guess, but certainly not to everyone’s taste. I still have no idea what she thought of me back then, though.

  But I do know what Martha thought. My nanny expressed her opinion that very night, and very emphatically. She called the princess a dried fish, a bitched viper, and a Riolonian scarecrow and suggested that I send her away.

  Then she grew sad and agreed that I did have to marry after all.

  I want to help my country.

  Oh, Alex, you’re just like your mother!

  On the occasion of the Riolonians’ arrival, I had to arrange a joust. I didn’t take part in it myself, not enough time, not enough interest. I sat next to Dariola and watched the knights, who were glad to rattle their pots.

  The princess seemed to like it, however. Knights, ballads, minstrels, admiring glances, trumpets, and timpani. I was bored.

  “Alex, why aren’t you fighting in the name of your fair lady?”

  I shrugged.

  “Your Highness, it will be unseemly.”

  “Why is that? I am the king. Forcing the knights to choose between their valor and their vassal duty...”

  “That is truly noble of you, Your Majesty. And you are so smart in doing that.”

  Her Highness was a great flatterer, and her brother, a great negotiator.

  In two weeks, we settled on the number that satisfied both of us and started to prepare for the royal wedding.

  So many expenses yet again, and I still had roads to repair, places to rebuild...

  ***

  The bride was...enchanting? Not really. Gorgeous? Not to my taste.

  Honestly, Dariola resembled the aforementioned fish, only dressed in laces and diamonds, thanks to her slanted chin, small eyes, and prominent lower lip.

  As for her personality, the ghosts reported to me on that as well.

  The princess was praying a lot, but judging by the fact that her prayers didn’t seem to have any effect on the ghosts, those prayers weren’t especially sincere. She wasn’t showing her faith, she was simply saying the words. The only honest talk the princess had was with her brother.