It was hard for me to look at Jack’s face afterward. You see, in a dungeon, all prisoners are at the complete mercy of the jailers. If they want to, they will feed you; if they don’t, you won’t even get a drop of water. The only rule is not to kill the prisoners. Their state is of no consequence. Those jailers could cut off their charges’ ears, beat them like rented mules, rape the women—and nobody would care. Definitely not the baron.
Isabel was barely alive. She couldn’t save the baby, and the jailers had a go at her multiple times on top of it. Could you imagine her condition? Honestly, I was furious. And I wasn’t her husband, either. I wasn’t anyone to her. Yet I remembered my mother. Once, twenty years ago, another girl had been huddled on a dirty straw mat, nursing her broken bones. And why? Because she had tried to help save people. Because she had been framed...
Fire blazed up in my veins. Too bad we had been too hasty and killed the jailers straight away. Wretches... No matter. I will find them on the other side, anyway.
In half an hour, Jack and I opened all the cells, and the former—now definitely former—bandit led the poor people to the exit. Yes, the honey-makers had survived as well, but calling them alive was a stretch. Have you ever seen people after prolonged torture? Burn marks, sores, putrid ulcers, pulled nails, cut flesh, joints dislocated after a rack...
My fists were clenched. I wanted to burn that castle to ashes, but I had to wait until the morning. My people were still inside, after all, and they could start to suspect something. I didn’t want that.
Getting the honey-makers out was enough—and it wasn’t easy, either. Jack swore he would get them to his camp, and I swore to him that there would be no pursuit, and then went back to the castle. As promised, I released the ghost, even saying goodbye to him, and returned to my room only to go downstairs in two hours—for the breakfast. The baron was still calm, he hadn’t been informed about the prison break yet. The only thing left was to wait—and I did. Soon after getting the third course, a frightened servant pounced into the room and started hissing something into the baron’s ear.
I didn’t even have to eavesdrop.
“The dungeon...dead jailers...the prisoners escaped...”
The baron jumped up from his seat.
“Guards!”
“What’s wrong?” I asked him, putting my napkin away. The baron became red-faced, then pale, tried to look away, but he had no choice, really, other than to come clean before the prince.
“Your Highness! The prisoners in my custody have just escaped from the dungeon...”
“Oh really? And who were they?”
“Err...thieves and miscreants!”
“Then I have no choice but to help you find them,” I said with enthusiasm. “I have people; we’ll go together.”
The baron choked on his own spit, but he had no leg to stand on.
“Err...yes, Your Highness!”
Within the hour, all the troops were roused. We would have done it faster, but I did all I could to hinder the process. I needed to delay the search, and I achieved that goal.
The baron was just mounting his horse when somebody knocked at the gates, and Jack threw himself at my feet, screaming,
“Please! I ask you for justice and protection! King’s mercy for me!”
The baron turned crimson, but he couldn’t very well intervene. It was a tradition: in front of any member of the royal family—even a bastard prince would suffice—anyone could fall on their knees and plead for the king’s justice, and the king would have to pass his judgment.
But was there any point in that? The king was far away, in Alethar, and really, he could always wake up on the wrong side of the bed or have a bad day, ordering his men to whip you at his whim. You couldn’t even complain, as you were the one to ask him for his sentence. Plus, my uncle had never really been fond of the common folk and wanted them to keep their distance. Therefore, lately, nobody had risked his wrath.
Jack wasn’t risking anything, though. He held Isabel in his arms, thunder in his eyes. If I were the baron, I’d dig a trench to hide in, really.
“Your Highness, by the right of royal blood, please settle our dispute!”
Before the baron knew it, I had jumped off my horse.
“I, Alexander Leonard Radenor, by the right of my blood and my family, promise you...”
“Jack of the Norret family.”
“Promise you, Jack of the Norret family, a fair, just, and speedy trial. Name the one who offended you.”
“Baron Pantine!”
I shifted my gaze.
“Baron?”
“All lies, Your Highness!”
“What exactly?”
“Everything!”
I pretended to ponder his declaration. Silence fell over the court; it was so quiet that you could hear the sparrows shit. Nobody dared to speak up as history was being made.
“Let us hear both sides, then.”
Jack went first, telling the story that I had already heard. The baron followed.
Apparently, the honey-makers had owed him money, and a huge sum, so all he had done was take his due. As for Lord Norret’s wife, well, she had gotten caught in the cross-fire. It happens. He will compensate everything! Do you want a hundred gold? All right, a hundred and twenty.
Jack’s hand grabbed the handle of his sword, while I raised my hand.
“Baron, so the honey-makers owed you money?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Could you give me a note of hand, then?”
“Err, what? But—”
“Let us go upstairs into your study, and you’ll show me your note of hand. I mean, you didn’t give them money just on their word?”
“Well...actually, I did.”
“Lies!” That was Isabel’s voice. “My father has never owed money to anyone! The baron just wanted our secret recipe...”
I nodded.
“Hmm. So there is no note. Then it’s your word against the honey-makers’?”
“Your Highness! But I’m a nobleman!”
“So am I!” Jack roared. “Not the firstborn son, but the blood flowing in my veins is no less noble than in yours, you scum!”
I grinned. That outburst had been planned.
“Then let the Bright Saint pass his judgment.”
That was the plan as well. We had had enough time to map out all the details. Faster than a flash in the pan, I caught sight of the local thrall and waved at him.
“Bless us, the servant of light...”
“Let the trial pass by the will of the Bright Cleanser and under his watchful gaze!”
He didn’t really have a choice. Defying the prince could be quite dangerous.
The baron gasped but didn’t dare to argue. He relied on his weapons and armor—and he miscalculated. Jack’s armaments turned out to be no worse than his. It all took twenty minutes. Jack and the baron stood in a circle. The baron carefully defended himself, while Jack leaped ahead, forcing the former to step back, trying to get away. A barrage of blows forced the baron to let his guard down and lose his ground, taking a hit that separated his head from his body. The decapitated body stood tall for a few moments before collapsing, covering the ground in blood from his arteries.
“The Bright Saint has passed his judgment!” I declared. “So be it. Jack of the Norret family, from this day forth, you are the first Baron Norret! To reimburse you for the harm done to you and those under your protection, I bestow upon you the lands of Baron Pantine. Be a wise and just ruler.”
Everyone was staring at me as if I were a manifestation of the Bright Saint. On the other hand, the late baron had no legitimate children. He had only married recently, taking a dowerless girl for his bride. There were bastards, of course, but they couldn’t inherit anything, and so...
Give his widow a dowry and let her decide whoever she wants to marry. I took a good look at her during the dinner. She had a sad face, her eyes cast down, her arms bruised...an evil man never really gets bett
er, whether married or not. Being evil was a state of mind.
And I went to draw up the formal papers. I needed them to be airtight.
Now I could go back—to the palace, the court, and...Carlie.
***
I had to spend twelve more days before Jack finally got the hang of things. Isabel was getting better, the honey-makers rebuilt, bigger and better than ever, and the former bandits either got new lands or guard uniforms. Peace was restored, and I finally bid farewell to my friend. We shook hands and I left.
Hello again, Alethar. A white city in an emerald-green casing of grassy hills, blue sea flowing beneath.
I rushed into the palace, to my chambers. Of course, I had to announce my arrival to Uncle, but let the Dark Tempter take it all! I needed to see Carlie. My dear flower, the sun of my soul...
It was night, but the lights were burning. I burst inside.
“Carlie?”
“She’s not here.”
“Rene?”
My friend was sitting in the corner, reading a book. He put it aside and stood up.
“Alex, we have to talk.”
“What’s wrong?”
My heart fell. What had happened to Carlie? Was she dead? No, I would have sensed it! I was a necromancer, damn it! Her soul would have contacted me! Was she ill? I would cure her then!
“Sit down.”
“Rene!”
My friend was staring at the corner, obviously hesitating to answer. I grabbed his shoulder and gave him a good shake.
“So?”
“Carlie’s gotten married.”
“What?”
I collapsed in a chair, my legs giving under.
“Carlie’s gotten married.”
“B-but... How?”
Rene sighed and started his story.
Carlie had indeed loved the glamorous splendor of the court. But how could I have let this happen! Fool! Idiot! Imbecile! How could I not notice that Abigail was working my girl, talking her ears off?
I knew I was called “the bastard prince” behind my back—but was that such a big deal? I would have executed half of those parasite courtiers later anyway. But calling Carlie “the bastard’s bride” was too much. That was mean and underhanded, but still painful. A mocking smile here, a taunt there...
And then I had left. Tom and Rene had defended my fiancée as best they could, but they hadn’t been able to do much. Abigail had had them at her beck and call, and she had brought Carlie closer, making her a lady-in-waiting.
And then, he had turned up. Around ten days after my arrival, when I hadn’t even reached the baron’s lands. Viscount Latour, a young, handsome, and rich nobleman who had started to court Carlie straight away, offering to marry her right off the bat. I had no idea what Abigail could have promised him to do that, but...
At first, Carlie had tried to resist, but then, they had been caught in a rather compromising situation.
“How compromising?” I had to ask. As I listened to Rene’s story, I felt nausea and, for some reason, shame, as if I was spying on someone’s lovemaking.
Rene seemed wishy-washy, like a thrall in a brothel.
“What? You’re not in a convent!”
“They were caught when the viscount was kissing your bride on the balcony,” I heard Tommy saying from the doorstep.
“Just kissing?”
Hope sprang inside my chest. Whatever... She might have been simply surprised, and they had forced her, threatened her, coerced her. That did sound like something Abigail would do, and so much more!
“That kiss was rather...intimate,” Tommy answered flatly. “All the court had a good enough look at Carlie, with her skirt pulled up, and the viscount, right there.” His gesture was expressive enough. “You see, she couldn’t notice anything anymore, and he was way too busy.”
I couldn’t help but imagine that. My girl and... Crap!
If I hadn’t been fast enough to bend over the armrest, I would have vomited right in my lap. How filthy...
Rene poured some wine into a cup and handed it to me.
“Drink it in one draught.”
I obeyed, and then bent over once again.
The guys nursed me until morning, giving me sedatives, trying to help, but I wasn’t listening.
I kept going back to two scenes.
Carlie, in a poppy wreath, in a meadow filled with flowers. My girl, my love, my heart...
Carlie, in a splendid dress, on a palace balcony, her skirt up, a stranger kneeling beside her... Or was he a stranger?
Hadn’t I seen him before? A stupid expression on his face, black moustache, good-looking, yet somehow reminding me of a stable boy.
Courtiers standing around, crying with laughter...
The scenes mixed together, overlapping, the laughing faces stretching before my eyes...
How I hated that!
Abigail, you wretch, you have paid me for your daughter’s death in spades. Did I tear away a part of your heart? Well, mine is bleeding just the same.
Why had it happened?
I would have given Carlie everything: the crown, a good life, happiness... Why couldn’t she simply have waited? Been strong? Been faithful?
Pain, so much pain...
By the morning, however, I pulled myself together. I was back, and I had to report everything that had happened to my uncle.
Damn it all to hell, I won’t let anyone see how much pain I’m in. I took a deep breath, and that grey veil came over me once again. I was calm, cold, and nothing hurt me...except inside me, in my heart. But outside, under the cover of grey ice, I felt composed and tranquil. There, nobody could give my heart even a scratch. There, I had no heart at all.
I was a half-demon, and we didn’t cry! We hid everything. So much pain...
***
I met my former wife-to-be the next day, during a reception held by my uncle. Well, actually, at first, I heard her laughter, and then... Carlie, my Carlie, was standing surrounded by a crowd of noble fops, a ponce with a curved moustache holding her hand, a smirk on his face.
Look at me, how great I am! Look at the girl I snatched!
I wanted to grab him as well, or at least some parts of him. But as soon as I thought about Carlie and that fop on the balcony, I felt a lump of bile in my throat.
Don’t vomit, please! Wait. I’ll handle this. Breathe in, breathe out, then breathe in again. My fingers were clenched, and I was seeing red. Carlie looked at me, frightened, and I tasted blood in my mouth, as I bit my cheek with my fangs and bowed.
The grey veil was all over me again, covering me, hiding me from the world under the heavy blocks of ice, and behind that unbreakable barrier of eternal blizzard, I smiled, casually and effortlessly, as befitted a nobleman.
“Lady, congratulations on your happy marriage. Viscount, you’ve managed to get yourself a rare gem.”
Martha, Henry, Rick—you would be proud of me. Self-possession is the key to success in both battle and necromancy.
Carlie grew pale. “Alex—”
“Viscountess?”
I looked at her with complete disinterest, and she seemed embarrassed. She cast her eyes down, and I bowed once more.
“I wish you happiness.”
I doubt I successfully deceived anyone back then, but I had to save face.
“Don’t be upset, Cousin.” Andre clapped me on my shoulder. “You’ll get your fill of those girls, trust me.”
Well, that was true, at least in that respect. He had slept around with half the court, the servants barely managing to replace the couches.
“What’s there to be upset about?”
I doubt Andre bought it, but at least it helped me to get rid of him. I took my bows and left the reception, sensing my aunt’s satisfied smirk with the back of my head.
Her work, definitely; now, the score is even.
***
Carlie came to visit me the next day. She went to my chambers, as if nothing had happened, and attempted to go through Tomm
y. My friend roared so loudly that I was surprised the glass windows didn’t break.
I came out, having noticed the noise. It was quite a sight. Carlie was trying to enter, all smiles and shining diamonds, and Tommy was all but growling, to the amusement of a dozen servants, who had just happened to have pressing business outside my door.
“Was that not enough for you, you slut? Did you come to finish him off?”
“Please, Tom, no drama,” I called to him.
“Alex! We need to talk!”
I sighed. That was true. Sooner or later, one way or another...
“Let her go, Tom. It’s bound to happen eventually, anyway.”
My friend cursed under his nose, but stepped back, letting Carlie get in.
“Alex, I owe you an—”
“Forgive everyone you owe something to and leave in peace,” Tom interjected. I glared at him, he heaved a deep sigh, and took his leave. Finally, we were alone.
I looked at her, and my heart bled.
You are so beautiful, my sunny flower... Well, not mine anymore—the viscount’s.
Apparently, I had been silent for too long, as Carlie spoke first. “Alex, forgive me, please.”
“Forgive?”
“Yes. I know I should have waited for you, but—”
“But!”
“Dion was so charming—”
I faltered at the realization.
“Carlie, do you mean you wouldn’t have told me about that little incident if you hadn’t been discovered?”
I clenched my fists.
Don’t lose control, don’t change shape...
“Alex, you were gone, I was alone, and Dion was by my side, all the time. And...with him, I felt loved and wanted! He’s so wonderful!”
I looked at her carefully.
“Do you love him?”
“Yes!”
“Did you love me?”
“Y-yes...I guess. I think it was more of a childish feeling. Please try to understand me, Alex. When I’m with Dion, it’s as if I’m flying! He’s shown me paradise!”
Yeah, heaven's wide champaign.
Still, it all felt wrong somehow... “Carlie, I thought you knew that Dion even before I left.”
Half-Demon's Revenge Page 22
