Half-Demon's Fortune

by Lina J. Potter

“What would be the point? You’ll still go your own way. You don’t need advice. Something bad has happened and you are hurt. But whatever I say, my words won’t change anything for you.”

  “Shouldn’t you comfort people?”

  “I must—but only those who need comforting, not you. You already know what you’re going to do; you’re going to deal with all your enemies—I’m sure you have them—and you’ll succeed. That’s not bad, but don’t ask an old thrall to reveal to you the most intimate secrets of life.”

  “Does he know them?” I asked smiling. The servitor was completely right.

  “He knows the main truth of all. A fragment of divine exists in each person, including you.”

  “If you knew who I am, you would never say that.”

  Unless Argadon could be considered divine, but that would have been way too much for one demon.

  “I might not know what people call you, but I can see that you’re tortured by evil. Your soul is alive and it’s in turmoil. That’s enough.”

  “What about blessing me?”

  “No. You don’t want that.”

  “How do you know everything?”

  While we were talking, I swiftly dealt with the meal on my plate. Delicious.

  “I don’t know anything, child of light. I’m just a tired old traveler looking for the right track. My only advice is to keep looking. Don’t give in to temptation and pick the simplest solutions. They might be wrong.”

  “If I invite you for a glass of wine and a conversation sometime, will you come?”

  “I promise. It’s time for you to go, child of light, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, servitor. Are you headed to Riolon, perchance?”

  “Yes. Do you need something?”

  I paused for a few minutes. What if Innis got a message from me? That would be something... No! I have no right. I left, and there was no coming back.

  “No. I don’t need anything.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No.”

  “I won’t insist. But remember that sooner or later, all roads circle back, and the one thing you have left behind might meet you around the corner.”

  Despite myself, I broke into a grin. If only...

  I did, however, suspect that Innis would meet me with a heavy stick to my head. I wouldn’t have minded it anyway.

  I bid him goodbye, paid up, and left the inn. My next step was summoning Ak-kvir and getting to the capital of Radenor.

  My home. My kingdom. Alethar Radenor, you made a good choice for your progeny by binding yourself to that land. Love can be lost and found, souls can be torn apart, but your home and people who depend on you... While they existed, I was alive.

  Ak-kvir answered my call soon enough. He was sitting by the road just like a real dog, his ugly head hanging to the side.

  “Where to next, necromancer?”

  “Home. Well, not quite. The Morinar estate, do you know where it is?”

  “I do. That’s enough.”

  As he darted off, clouds of dust rose in the air, only to settle in the rays of the morning sun.

  ***

  The capital of Radenor, Alethar, was abuzz with excitement, even if the turmoil there was quite different from Riola. People were whispering in the corners and preparing to revolt, while the royal palace kept partying.

  Some were still celebrating, but Her Majesty had already gotten up and was making herself presentable. Henry Lanier was in the bedroom together with the queen and her trusted maids: her favorite, her beloved, but not her lover—yet. The reasons for that were understandable. A princess must marry as a virgin and Dariola had been one. The Queen of Radenor must have a child with the king and she was going to. Life mages were watching the fetus and swore that everything was fine, it was developing properly, it was a boy, and he would be born in three months, maybe even earlier. The baby was big and healthy and kept growing by the second.

  So, all they had to do was wait and make up for lost time after her son was delivered. Before that, they could just spend time together and content themselves with glances, words, touching, and the sensation of closeness, which meant a lot, too. That’s what they were doing at the moment, at least.

  They had tried sleeping in the same bed, of course, but that presented a problem. Every time Henry had lain next to her, the child had started to go crazy, playing ball with her internal organs. After suffering through several hours of that torture, the queen had chewed out the life mages, who were helpless, and had asked Henry to sleep in the next room. Still, in the morning, he came to her, woke her up, kissed her, and brought her fresh flowers from the garden.

  “My darling...”

  Dariola looked at her minstrel with loving eyes. He’s so wonderful... a far cry from Alex, that arrogant boy. He’s so smart and handsome, and his voice... All smitten women are the same. They use the same epithets and infatuation makes them all equally dense. Rose-tinted glasses are easy to put on and hard to get rid of, and sometimes, when you pull them away, you lose so much of your skin and your self-worth that nothing is left.

  “You look especially charming today, dear.”

  Henry was just as handsome, dressed in blue silks that set off his golden hair and clear eyes and accentuated his masculine figure.

  “Thank you, my knight. Henry, is there any news?”

  “About the king?”

  “Yes...”

  “Nothing, so far. And the retainer is late...”

  “Yes, he did promise to be here by breakfast, didn’t he?”

  Dariola never missed a single meal. She loved them. She loved the fawning looks, the envy in the eyes of the court ladies, the smiles of the chevaliers...

  And why not? She was a princess. By the right of her birth, she was entitled to grandeur and luxury. Why couldn’t she enjoy herself? Nobody could say that she was drop dead gorgeous, but a crown could turn even a roadside rock into a diamond. Just ask Abigail.

  Oh, Abigail... Dariola couldn’t help but wince. Under the terms of the agreement, she had to summon the former queen from her convent, and she was already on her way to the capital. When she arrived, she would probably start to impose her desires upon the court.

  Well, let her try. There could only be one queen, and her name was Dariola Elianol. If Abigail was smart, she would satisfy herself with the status of the dowager queen, and nothing more. If she wasn’t...

  Even if locking her back in the convent was not an option, there was always the possibility of using daggers and poison. Dariola didn’t really feel any guilt. Agreeing to send someone to their death can be hard the first time, but afterward, such a solution becomes familiar. Some people even derived pleasure from that.

  Somebody knocked at the bedroom door.

  “Who’s there?”

  Disgruntled, Henry looked at the door. A handmaiden’s scared face peeked inside.

  “Your Majesty, the commander of the guard wants to see you!”

  “Henry?”

  “Dear, I don’t have any power over him yet. You should talk to him.”

  “I’m the queen. There’s nothing I should or shouldn’t do. But...I’ll hear him out.”

  Gallant, Henry offered his hand to his queen, and Dariola accepted the invitation. On his arm, she swept out of the room.

  The commander of the palace guard was waiting for her outside. He was one of the people appointed back during Alex’s reign; Dariola would have loved to remove him from his position, but the guards wouldn’t accept anybody else as their leader. Her husband, may he rot in hell, had performed a thorough cleaning of the court over the last few years.

  He had driven away all the people of quality and forced the rest to do all kinds of chores, cleared out the royal guards and recruited lots of rabble. The new guards might have been commoners, but they could handle weapons well enough so that the nobles were afraid of messing with them. They were also loyal to Alex.

  They would have rebelled, but her pregnancy kept them in check: after all
, the baby had royal blood, the blood of Radenor. Darius had told her that slowly, they would get rid of them, but it was a slow process.

  “What’s the matter?” the queen asked petulantly. “Why are you bothering me before breakfast?”

  “Your Majesty, there’s trouble in the capital.”

  “Really?”

  Dariola felt concern. What could have happened? A rebellion? A war? Tevarr?

  “Your Majesty, the Confidant will not arrive.”

  “Why not?” the queen asked, angry. She even stomped her foot—in an appropriately graceful manner, of course.

  “He’s dead.”

  Dariola grew pale and leaned against the wall.

  “What!”

  “How could it be?!” Henry tried to growl, but failed to be convincing, as if he were a mouse who thought itself a lion.

  “He’s been eaten by rats.”

  The queen reeled and fainted, now without any grace or poise.

  Rats were one of the things she feared the most. Actually, she was scared of all kinds of rodents. Vile, disgusting, loathsome abominations! Eww!

  After the servants brought Her Majesty to her senses with the help of burned feathers, the commander of the guard continued his story. In the early morning, worried that the palace servitor still hadn’t shown up, he had decided to check up on him in the temple...only to find a skeleton lying on the floor, the bones picked clean. After determining the owner of the skeleton by the pieces of his robe, as well as the reason of his death, based on the traces of rat teeth, the remains of rat manure, and rat footprints everywhere, he had decided to inform the main temple.

  Alas, the main temple was empty, aside from bones. The rats had done a thorough job. Now, the palace guards were actively patrolling the palace, several servants were on the way to the city temple to check if the same...situation had taken place everywhere and if any servitors had survived. But even if they had, none were to be found in the palace.

  Dariola started to shake. Henry put his arms around her, despite the public, having the sense to realize that there was no need for formalities at such a moment.

  “So what should we do, Your Majesty?”

  What could Dariola say? Nothing. She had no idea what to do in such a situation; it was a far cry from picking the right dress or playing with a hand fan. She felt scared, overwhelmed, and really...such issues were supposed to be dealt with by men!

  Henry saw that the queen was useless, and cut in.

  “Commander, patrol the palace, contact the city guard. Find out who of the servitors survived, get them to the temple and question them about what happened. Oh, and order the guards to calm the population.”

  The commander looked at the queen.

  “Your Majesty?”

  “Do it!” Dariola shrieked.

  “As you command.”

  The commander left. Ever since the king died, something has been rotten. But is he really dead?

  Alex might have been secretive, and his lab might have been hidden in the dungeons, but nobody was more perceptive than the servants, the courtiers, and the guards, all of whom were famous lovers of gossip.

  They had long suspected the king of using dark magic; they had been almost sure of it, especially after the palace ghosts had become more active.

  When the king’s death in an accident had been announced, followed by the Riolonians’ arrival and the queen all but moving in with that pretty boy of hers, despite the usual mourning period for rulers being three years, at least...

  An accident? The commander would have never believed that. The people loyal to Alexander hadn’t killed the queen yet only because of her pregnancy. Royal blood meant a lot. It didn’t mean, however, that Dariola would get a long life after giving birth.

  The Morinars had already tested the waters with the captain, and he had given a direct reply: he would support the rightful king. He knew Henry Morinar and held him in high regard: the old fox was a Radenorian born and bred and loved his country. Rene Morinar was also a canny soul.

  Was it their handiwork?

  The commander decided to spread the guards throughout the city, with the queen’s approval, or even bring in troops…and also to pay a visit to the Morinars and have a talk.

  I have to know what’s going on, don’t I?

  ***

  The first thing I noticed about the Morinar estate was the noise. The gathered troops had been deployed to the villages, but even without them, there were enough people to raise hell.

  I didn’t want to bother the butler. After all, any necromancer worth his salt could easily find the way to his destination.

  I found the Morinars in the study, both the old man and Rene. There was also a nice surprise for me.

  “No! I don’t know! I haven’t the slightest idea why the rats have gone crazy.”

  “Could it be His Majesty?”

  “But surely you know—”

  “About the accident? If only I believed that!”

  “You’re right not to,” I smirked as I entered the study. “Glad to see you, gentlemen.”

  Going by their reaction, they were no less glad.

  “Your Majesty...”

  “Alex!”

  The commander kept quiet, staring at me carefully. I threw off my cloak and dropped it on a chair.

  “That’s me, all right. I found you, commander, in the town of East Leron, at the local fair... Should I continue?”

  “No need to, Your Majesty. What are your orders?”

  I smirked.

  “That depends on Henry. What say you, Chancellor?”

  “What can I say, Your Majesty? Here’s the list of conspirators and my proposed measures. The troops are ready to march.”

  I took two scrolls and ran my eyes over the first. The two conspirators listed at the top were Dariola Elianol and Darius.

  I had to take a quill and cross out the late prince.

  “Leave him out. He already paid in full.”

  “Your Majesty?”

  “I intercepted Darius on the road to Riolon. I won’t bother you with the details, but right now, Riolon has neither a king nor a prince. The only legitimate heir to the throne, aside from Darius' feeble-minded brother, is my and Dariola’s child.”

  “Your Majesty!”

  The captain seemed almost awed as he said it. I smiled coyly.

  “That’s how it is. So, we’ll have to...decide something on Riolon, too. How are things in the capital?”

  “Rats, Your Majesty.”

  “What about them?”

  “They’ve...gone crazy, attacking people and devouring them.”

  “People?”

  “Err...the servants of the Church.”

  “Poor rats, that might seriously damage their numbers. Still, I don’t mind if the four-legged rats lay waste to the two-legged ones.”

  “Alex?”

  Rene couldn’t take it anymore. After all, we had been out of touch ever since my disappearance. All he knew was that I was alive and that was Martha’s information.

  “An accident, gentlemen? The templars set a trap for me, and I survived by pure luck. A wonderful girl saved me. But the Church is in my debt, and I intend to collect.”

  “But...how?”

  “I prayed and my prayers were answered.”

  I wasn’t even lying. Prayers? Well, almost. I really did call upon a higher power.

  “What are your orders, Your Majesty?”

  “First, arrest my wife and everybody who helped her. Surround the city with troops. Find all live servitors and gather them in one place to talk.”

  “What about Queen Abigail?”

  “Is that bitch here?”

  I realized that I hadn’t really been angry before. I should have killed her in the first place! Right away!

  But no, I wanted her to live and suffer. Wretch.

  “She left the convent six days ago or so.”

  “And she still hasn’t met an accident!”

  “Y-
your M-majesty...”

  “Alex, your eyes are getting red.”

  “That’s because I’m angry,” I snapped but took hold of myself. “Henry, how much time do you need to do everything I've told you?”

  “Aside from the accident, around two hours, Your Majesty.”

  “The accident is another thing altogether. Go ahead.”

  “Your Majesty....”

  “I want a meal and a brief report on everything my dear wife has done while I was away. And also a study for myself.”

  “As you command, Your Majesty.”

  In the study, I cut my hand and used the blood to quickly draw a pentagram on the table. I didn’t need anything more—in no time, a dark snake coiled in its center. That was enough to contact Martha.

  “How are you, Mother?”

  “‘Tis fine, dear.”

  “I’ll be home soon. I’m already at the Morinars’, so today...”

  “Be careful, please!”

  “I promise. You too, all right? Don’t go out until I get to you. Cornered rats are the most dangerous ones.”

  Martha was silent for a moment, then sighed.

  “I woulda killed yer bitch with my own hands, but...I cannot, not yet.”

  “She has to give birth.”

  “But gimme her lover!”

  “I promise you, I will.”

  It wasn’t a big deal for me. I wasn’t as vengeful as Martha, especially after she decided that her baby had been insulted!

  “Take care of yerself, honey.”

  “I promise that, too. But in the meantime, please do the following...”

  Martha listened to me carefully and nodded in approval. She would proceed with that right away and finish in two hours, tops. I broke off contact and could almost see Martha sitting next to a giant snake woven from darkness itself, her hand in the water, smiling.

  She had learned to wait and have faith, and the water was preparing to bring her the corpse of Dariola’s lover...and then, the queen herself.

  To wait and have faith. Would I ever learn to do that?

  Confidently, I wiped the pentagram away with a handkerchief and burned it in the ashtray. No need to leave my blood Argadon knows where, especially at the Morinars’.

  ***