They said my name in a much softer tone. Am I still a prize catch? Although, compared to Sidon Andago... I might not have been a count, but I wasn’t ugly, old, or crippled and had no children or huge issues. Not a bad match! I bowed. Let them think their charms worked, or, rather, that their charm potions did.
“Dear ladies.”
Innis wasn’t as courteous.
“Are you still here?”
“We’ve decided to stay overnight. It’s a long way...”
“Two hours.”
“And the horses are tired. You won’t kick us out on the streets, dear Innis?”
Clarice looked like a sheep, and something inside of me burst. She was definitely setting something up. Still, it would be easier to deal with it headfirst. Innis looked at me, realized something, and chuckled.
“Well then, stay here if that’s your wish. But remember that you are unwelcome in the Andago castle, as is your brother.”
“Innis, don’t you like Riphar at all?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Poor boy, he’s beside himself with worry. Alex, you were so unreasonably rough with him.”
The warlock women were trying to put pressure on us using our guilt. They didn’t say a word against us, but all that constant reproaching, sighs and stares spoke volumes. Are they drenched in potions again?
Amorta didn’t have a laboratory in the Andago castle, Tidann would never have allowed that, which meant that it was the sister who had brought the potions—a sibling team.
No matter, I would deal with the entire family eventually. I only cared that Innis not be hurt; I had never promised to keep the others safe.
Amorta and Clarice continued buzzing in my ear. I escorted Innis to her chambers, only to get promptly flanked by those two sharks.
“Alex, you must tell us about Tevarr! How could you refuse us such a simple request?”
I would have, but those harpies were already clinging to my elbows. Oh, and they are trying to seduce me, how could I forget! The stench of charm potions made me nauseous, but an ordinary human should have long since broken. Should I run or should I taunt them? The second, of course! I should do my demon blood justice!
Obedient, I followed the ladies into the green lounge, let them seat me in a chair and even pour me some wine. I sniffed it, drawing in the flavor.
Awesome!
I hadn’t seen such highly concentrated charm potions even in a brothel. They practically guaranteed immediate arousal. The brain would shut down, and the body would jump at the closest woman available, which would be Clarice, as she was sitting right next to me. Meanwhile, Amorta was standing near the mantelpiece. Those vultures! What if I had a weak heart? Would they have buried me right there?
The ladies clearly hadn’t had any failures yet.
I put the wine aside.
“What a terrific aroma. Slightly bitter, a hint of strawberry, the smell of summertime...it would go great with cheese. I’ll tell the servants to bring us some.”
“No need, I’ll do it myself,” Amorta turned to us. I focused on Clarice.
“Let me tend to you.”
“How sweet of you, Alex...”
She had bedroom eyes and spoke in a breathy voice. I bent over the table and pretended to look at her bosom. Clarice was happy to oblige, moving closer to show me...there was nothing to show, not really. Flat as a board. I didn’t need to look away from my wife to see that.
However, while she was doing that, she lost the sight of the glasses on the table, and I couldn’t miss the opportunity.
As they all looked the same, switching two glasses wasn’t hard at all. Amorta returned with the cheese and put the plate on the table. I raised my glass; the ladies clutched theirs...
“To the gorgeous ladies unrivaled in Tevarr, Radenor, and Riolon.”
The enchantresses broke into twin smiles, resembling hungry sharks. Who said that I was talking about them? They were a credit a dozen...
We emptied our glasses in sync. As I expected, the charm potion wasn’t in the wine jug, but rather on the inside of my glass.
A fit of a bad cough came over me, and I jumped up, noticing how Clarice’s stare turned heavy and languid, and choking, ran past Amorta and out the door. I closed it behind me and pressed myself against it.
No dice. Drink your wine, I wouldn’t take it for free.
On the other side of the door, screams slowly turned into desperate moans. I sneered and went away. I had no idea what exactly was happening between the girls, but they clearly had no need of a man there. Feeding charm potions to your guests wasn’t the best idea.
***
Martha woke up and stretched her back, only to open her eyes and see the same dungeon.
It was cozy, comfortable, and almost felt like home. A huge black snake was coiled next to her feet. If she weren’t a necromancer, she would have died of fright, but power protected her and helped her, and fearless, she touched its black head.
Her fingers passed through as if the snake was made from mist itself.
“Come on, show me whatever’s new in the palace.”
The snake lurched forward a bit, connecting with the woman, and Martha’s mind became full of images.
Alex’s chambers, locked up tight. Dariola’s quarters...now that was a completely different picture. The queen was well, surrounded by a crowd of courtiers and seemed pretty chipper, talking about this and that.
Templars were stationed on every corner, but that was expected. They were afraid of Alex. The boy had insulted them one too many times.
The templars were everywhere in the palace: quite likely, there were none left in the entire capital, as all of them had been sent there. That didn’t matter to Martha.
Alethar Radenor had built his castle on blood and bones, hexes and spells, and it could last centuries, protecting his descendants. There, she was safe, even if they started to break the castle down stone by stone, they would never find anything there.
And then Alex would come...
How would her baby handle that?
The snake slithered around the palace, and Martha saw the servants shaking in the corners, courtiers shivering in their rooms, the guards saluting each and every robed scumbag, afraid of being accused of heresy. They should have crushed that saintly snake pit a long time ago!
But they had taken pity on them. Too bad.
Martha wasn’t a staunch opponent of faith, not really. Necromancers know about gods and demons better than most and believe in them, too. That’s their job.
But...
Once upon a time, the Bright Saint met the Dark Tempter, and the Saint said, “I’ve defeated you once and for all. I gave people faith.”
And the Tempter answered, “No, it’s me who’s won. I gave people the Church.”
Faith resides in your soul, but the Church...who said there were decent people there? The things Martha saw in the palace didn’t exactly inspire her.
And neither did the patrols walking around the streets of the capital, or the fires in the squares. They were burning books—and people. For what?
Dig hard enough, and you can find dirt on anyone.
Martha herself knew for sure that no witches or warlocks lived in the capital. The lair of a tiger is no place for wolves. So the only ones burning were just unfortunate souls. Or maybe they just wanted to scare people, remind them of Rudolph’s times, so they would be afraid of looking up, pay the tithe...
She hissed through her clenched teeth.
Tyrants can be nasty, that was true. But Saint forbid you encounter the tyranny of the Church.
When Alex arrived, he would personally kick them out of the country and make sure there was nobody left. But until then, all she could do was wait, watch, and draw conclusions.
Let them think they won, for now. Let them relax, reveal their secrets, lay bare all their ulcers. Necromancers are the masters of the waiting game. They can be as patient as death itself—and just like her, they always get th
eir way.
Oh, Alex, m’boy. Just be safe, please.
***
That night, Innis came to me again, and we left for the dungeons. Tidann Andago met us with a cheery smile.
“You’re such a troublemaker! You’ve really cheered the old man up!”
I raised my eyebrows.
“So—”
“Yes. The target was the nearest object, which was Amorta, and Clarice aggressively... interacted with her.”
“I don’t get it,” Innis said, looking at me, surprised.
“No need to.”
“Alex!”
I pressed the tip of her nose.
“You’re too young to hear such things.”
The ghost grinned, content. Innis pursed her lips, but I gently pushed her away and started working. I didn’t have to draw a pentagram. Like in any self-respecting necromancer’s laboratory, it had already been embedded in the floor. All I had to do was place the candles, draw the symbols of life, death, summoning, command, and affinity, put a lock of hair in the center, pour a drop of Innis’ blood, put the girl in the chair behind my back, and call upon the spirit.
“Ritanna Andago, by the power of your dead flesh, the blood of your daughter, and my necromancy, I summon thee!”
I didn’t have to wait long. A ghost appeared inside the pentagram, making Innis gasp behind me. Wow, Ritanna Andago was gorgeous when she was alive.
She had long black curly hair, waist-length, chiseled features, an incredible figure... As a man, I could understand Sidon Andago. One might want to resort to a sorceress’ assistance to get a chance with such a beauty. Innis, by the way, would look just like her someday. She already did, but her beauty wasn’t in full bloom yet. It was like comparing a rosebud with a rose.
I half-bowed.
“Milady...”
She paid no attention to me, of course. She had already noticed Innis.
“My girl! My darling, you’re alive! Thank heavens!”
“Mother!”
I didn’t let Innis rush into the pentagram.
“Stop! If you break the outline, say goodbye to your mother. She will never be able to come here after that.”
“Alex!”
“Of the two of us, who’s the necromancer?”
Innis pouted and squeezed my hand tightly—just in case, so she wouldn’t forget herself.
“Mommy, I’m so happy to see you!”
Ritanna looked at her daughter, then at me.
“Innie, is that your husband?”
“N-no...”
“That’s a pity.”
Apparently, the lady had already regained her bearing. Summoning was always a shock for a ghost, but afterward, you could talk to them as if they were alive.
“Countess, can you tell me what happened to you? How did you die?”
Ritanna hissed like a snake. A wave of cold air rushed through the room. She might have had a gift, even if it had never manifested.
“I was murdered.”
“By whom?”
“That...”
A string of curses followed, making Innis blush and me chuckle. It wasn’t something you’d expect from a lady.
“Amorta?”
“Yes.”
“Was it poison?”
“A hex, using my hair.”
“So that’s how it was.”
“Sidon slept with her.”
“He was enchanted,” Innis spoke up. Ritanna waved her hand.
“Innie, dear, he enchanted me first...well, you know.”
“Yes, mother. Alex told me.”
“Right. Everything was fine while I was in love with him like a stupid girl. Eventually, however, the effect of the potions started to wear off, and my personality began to shine through. I became more blunt and rude, and a coolness grew between us as if rats had crossed our path[1]*.
Innis was carefully listening.
“And?”
“Sidon is a weak person and a weak man. Nothing personal, but after seeing the real Ritanna Andago, he decided to give up. He didn’t try to recover my affections, even if for you, I would have lived with anyone. He preferred to seek comfort elsewhere...and found Amorta.”
“What an idiot,” I smirked.
“Be smarter, young man,” the ghost chuckled meaningfully. “Learn from our mistakes.”
“I will, Countess. So what happened after he found Amorta?”
“Hexing someone using their hair isn’t hard.”
“And finding your hair on your husband’s clothes is even easier, right?”
I got an approving look.
“Exactly. I died of a hex.”
“I’ll kill that bitch!”
Innis was almost growling. I squeezed her hand.
“Leave it to me. She will regret her arrogance.”
“Do you promise?”
“I swear it.”
Ritanna laughed, throwing her head back. Another cold wave blew across the room.
“Well then, necromancer. Take care of my daughter. I won’t ask you to avenge me...”
“You already know that I have no choice.”
“I ask you about another thing. When Sidon dies, I don’t want us to be buried next to each other. I’d rather spend an eternity alone than next to that rabble.”
“I promise,” Innis’ voice broke as tears flowed down her cheeks. “Mommy, I’m so sorry...”
Ritanna smiled.
“Don’t cry for me, Innie. I’m happy. I’ve brought up such a good girl. Just name your daughter after me and make her happy.”
“I...will...”
I could barely hear her words through her sobs. I embraced her shoulders.
“I will make sure of this.”
“You would, would you, necromancer?” Ritanna’s voice oozed with sarcasm. “Take care of yourself, honey. I love you so much... Forgive me for leaving you with those hyenas, but we all can be such idiots...”
Innis was crying her eyes out. I looked at Ritanna.
“Ritanna, Countess Andago, you are free to go. Rest in peace.”
The ghost disappeared in a whiff of smoke, sending a final warm look of affection toward Innis. The girl turned to me and started to drench my shirt in tears. Stupid child. Without thinking, I stroked her hair only to meet Tidann’s eyes.
The ghost was silent and subtly shook his head. That sobered me up.
What the hell am I doing? Why am I making the girl attached if I can’t give anything to her? She could never be a mistress, sit and wait and beg for scraps of attention while the wife was away...but now, when she hurt so much, she could become really fond of me.
I pushed her away, put her back in the chair, and gave her a glass of water.
“Pull yourself together, Innis. You have to decide what to do next.”
Twenty minutes passed before the girl calmed down. She drained the glass, wiped her cheeks, and stopped gasping for air.
She stared at me with her black eyes narrowed.
“I want that bitch to die!”
I needed no clarification as to who she meant.
“What about your father?”
For a second, Innis was silent, and I almost expected her to ask me to kill two people. She pressed her lips together, her hands shaking, but at last, the blood won.
“No. That would be too easy. Let him live and know, for the rest of his days, what was done to him and how he was used.”
“Killing him would be merciful,” Tidann remarked. Sharply, Innis turned toward him.
“Did my uncle get any mercy?”
Sidon hadn’t spared the boy in order to become Count Andago, and now he was sentenced to live until death while realizing that he hadn’t become anything, after all.
“What about your brother?”
“From that...”
Innis sighed.
“I don’t know. He’s a child, and children are innocent.”
“But they can grow up and avenge their parents.”
“And
he was raised to become Count Andago, too.” But I couldn’t sentence him myself.
“Could you put him into an orphanage?”
“Father...Count Andago wouldn’t allow that.
“But would you have done it?”
She paused.
“He’s still a baby, but I’m not going to lie, Alex, I don’t want to see him ever again. He will be a constant reminder of Amorta, of my mother’s death, of my father’s betrayal...he might not be guilty, but the Bright Book tells us that the sins of the parents will fall on the shoulders of their progeny to the seventh generation.”
“In my time, such children were given away to be brought up in good families,” Tidann Andago chimed in, humble. “Pay money, check if they’re treated well from time to time, and that would be enough.”
Innis pondered his words.
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
I put my hand on her shoulder.
“Trust me, life will sort it out.”
I was rewarded with a look in her eyes, burning with black fire.
“I believe you, Alex.”
***
At breakfast, I met the very same people as the previous day, albeit with some changes. Riphar seemed ready to dive under the table at any minute, Amorta was pale and haggard, and Clarice glared at everyone, angry. Only Sidon Andago gobbled down the food as if all was right in the world, while Ingor cooed happily.
Innis was looking daggers, and I tried to calm her down so she wouldn’t lash out before the time was right. The interesting stuff would start at night; there was no need to ruin the pleasure.
Amorta was the first to speak up.
“Alex, could you take a moment to talk to me?”
“You?” I inquired cheekily. “Or your...unruly sister?”
Clarice stared at me, all spite, but what could she do? Say that she had tried feeding me the potion, only to drink it herself?
“You presume too much.”
I smiled placidly.
“Have I presumed something you haven’t presumed yourself?”
Amorta turned crimson. Combined with her blonde hair, it looked horrible.
“I think you’ve overstepped the bounds of our hospitality.”
“Alex is my guest,” Innis reminded them in an icy tone. “And here, you are nobody. You’re not the one to talk about my hospitality.”
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