by Joe Jackson
“I can see this will keep me busy for a while,” the demon king commented when she’d finished, and she grinned ever so slightly as her girls applauded.
“I find that hard to believe,” Kari commented. “Sounds like you’ll be playing it with ease in no time.”
“Because you’ve never heard it before,” Koursturaux said, turning back to examine the sheet music. “You have no idea how many notes I missed.”
There was light-hearted laughter again. Koursturaux asked a couple of the angelic-looking creatures to dance. After watching and finishing her drink, Kari thanked the demon king for her hospitality and excused herself to return to her chambers. When she arrived, she found Mildasa asleep on the bed with Uldriana and her own child cradled tight to her. Kari undressed and climbed into bed quietly, mindful of waking any of them. While it was her bed, she let Mildasa share it with her for the night, and she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter VI – Huntresses
Mildasa and the children were gone when Kari woke the next morning, even though the demonhunter had woken before dawn as usual. Within moments of dressing and leaving her room, Kari was directed to the general dining hall, a larger room with a table for far more guests. There she found the caretaker having her own breakfast while balancing two nursing children in her lap. It was quite a feat to behold, and Kari began to suspect that the mallasti gave birth to single children, and simply raised their pups communally. It was an interesting facet that they even took turns nursing the pups to give new mothers a break, and the fact that they apparently could nurse as many as six at a time was quite an advantage.
Kari took her breakfast beside the mallasti mother, who seemed to have adjusted to Uldriana’s nursing habits quickly. “Is this your first?” she asked while she ate.
“Oh, no,” Mildasa said, her grasp of the Citarian trade tongue a bit stiff, with the mallasti accent carrying over into it more noticeably now. It lent a pleasant edge to the way she spoke. “This is my fourth, my second son, Dillon. My family lives in the city; Her Majesty asked that I come and tend to your children if it proved necessary. Is this your first, lady?”
“Second,” Kari answered with a smile, brushing Uldriana’s short black hair gently with her fingers. She found it interesting that the mallasti child had a human-sounding name. “I have a son back home, named for his father. My daughter is called Uldriana.”
The mallasti woman’s eyes lit up at that. “That name is quite common among my people. Is it common among yours as well? I would not have expected such a thing.”
“I named her for one of your people, a vulkinastra.”
Mildasa’s jaw dropped open slightly. “You met a vulkinastra?” she asked. “They are considered the blessed of…” She stopped and looked around warily. “We should not speak of such things.”
Kari considered that. It was the first spoken evidence she’d heard that despite all of the rich hospitality and congeniality of the demon king, she was still exactly that. These women, pleased as they may have been to work in Koursturaux’s palace, were still slaves, still subjugated by the demon kings. They were supposed to be Be’shatha’s children, living free to serve their celestial queen, but instead, they bent knee to a demon king, whether willingly or not. Koursturaux had proven to be an enigma thus far, but there it was: she was still a conquering demon king.
Kari thought about the vulkinastra, whether they were truly blessed among Be’shatha’s creations or just albino, a product of genetics, as sages would say. She considered the prophecy that led King Sekassus to kill any vulkinastra he could get his hands on, and it seemed a safe bet to assume that if the mallasti rose up and deposed him, they might not stop there. It made Koursturaux’ and Morduri’s involvement in Kari’s previous mission to Mehr’Durillia even more fascinating, and Kari quickly surmised that it might be a means of eliminating a lot of Koursturaux’ competition in an ultimately legal way.
Kari looked around for a moment and then pulled forth the pendant she’d received from Cestriana back in Moskarre. Mildasa’s eyes went wide again and she nearly dropped her child when she lunged forward to stuff the pendant back under Kari’s armor. “Are you a fool? Do not show such a thing, especially in the very house of a king! You would be well served to hide that where it will not be seen.”
“Her Majesty would take offense to it, then?” Kari asked, settling it beside her dog tags.
“She will kill you.” There was fury in the woman’s voice, even kept low as it was. “That symbol is forbidden everywhere on the Overking’s world. Do not be a fool.”
Kari nodded and went back to her food. Mildasa settled down after a couple of minutes and did the same. Eventually, she broke the silence, but she didn’t look at Kari when she asked, “Why do you wear such a thing?”
“It belonged to a friend,” Kari answered.
“The vulkinastra?” the mallasti prodded, and Kari nodded. “Epaxa chi’pri.”
Kari turned to the mallasti woman. “I don’t speak your language; what does that mean?”
“Ask someone when you get home. We should not speak of this any further, please.”
Kari wondered if the woman had learned that phrase from her monarch. She finished her breakfast and bid the wet nurse farewell. Kari made her way to the audience chamber, where she was surprised at the sight that greeted her. Koursturaux was sitting on the floor in front of her throne, and one of the angelic-looking women was seated in it while she braided the demon king’s long, raven hair. Kari paused just inside the doorway, but approached when the demon king waved her forward.
She had expected court to be in session, that the demon king would be getting last-minute affairs in order before they left for their hunt. There was only Koursturaux, the woman braiding her hair, and two other angelic-looking women chatting in another language. The more she was exposed to it, the more Kari was convinced it wasn’t beshathan, either. It flowed a bit like the beshathan and syrinthian languages, but it was something wholly different. Simple deduction said it was probably the language of these angelic-looking creatures, whatever they were.
Kari paused at the base of the steps of the dais, and Koursturaux flashed that fanged smile. “I know what you are thinking, Lady Vanador. The king makes the throne, not the other way around.”
“I know that, Your Majesty,” the demonhunter answered with a casual wave. “But I’ve never met a king that lets anyone else sit on their throne.”
“Your Suler Tumureldi never let you sit on his throne?”
Kari bit back her initial response, wary of offending her host. “No, he didn’t. His people suspected I was trying to take the throne as it was.”
“Hmph. Indeed,” the demon king said. She rose to her feet once the woman was finished braiding her hair, and she secured the end of the lengthy tail with a metal clasp. “Would you like your hair tended to? It won’t do to be hunting with it loose like that.”
Kari didn’t typically bother braiding her hair. In all her years, she had gotten used to fighting with it loose, and thanks to its length, it usually stayed between her wings anyway. If the demon king was offering her the service of her beautician, though, and expected Kari to take advantage of it, she wasn’t going to refuse. Kari agreed with a gracious bow of her head and took a seat before the throne. It felt odd to have someone besides Grakin running their fingers through her hair, but the girl got a measure of Kari’s length quickly, and then said something to her monarch.
“Would you like it set in…cornrows?” Koursturaux asked on the girl’s behalf.
“Sure, that’s fine,” Kari answered, though she wasn’t exactly sure what it meant. At worst, she might end up looking a bit foolish.
The girl set to braiding Kari’s hair, and the speed of her work made it clear that it was something she did on a regular basis. It wasn’t long before Koursturaux put a hand to her chin. “I quite like it. Now you look like a woman who means business.”
Kari beheld the demon king’s scantily-clad figure. �
��Well, Your Majesty, as much as I know you always mean business, your outfit doesn’t look appropriate for a hunt.”
The demon king smirked. “I am going to get changed into my hunting apparel. Is your armor light enough for a hunt?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Kari answered, and with a nod, Koursturaux made her way from the chamber.
Once the girls were finished, they presented Kari with a hand mirror so she could admire their handiwork. Koursturaux hadn’t been kidding; she definitely looked more intimidating with her hair set in the tiny braids. She had seen cornrows many times before, but never knew that was what people called them. It was amusing that they would refer to them the same way here, or even have some of the same hair stylings. The three women looked at Kari expectantly.
“I like it. Thank you very much,” she said, unsure if they would understand her.
“You are…most welcome,” the girl said tentatively. “Enjoy your hunt.”
Kari left the audience chamber and looked down the long hallways. A shrill cry echoed off the marble walls, and Kari wondered where the sound had come from. With no servants or demon king in sight, Kari followed the apparent trail of the sound, eventually coming to a set of stairs that led into a lower level. Even from the top, Kari could hear distant moans of pain and hopelessness, and she could faintly smell blood. She had little doubt that she had found the way to the dungeons, something that was whispered of in tones of fear even in Anthraxis. To be sent to Koursturaux’ dungeons was apparently one of the most terrifying punishments, perhaps second only to being called before the Overking himself for judgment.
“I see you found the way down,” came the voice of the demon king from behind her.
Kari had to make a conscious effort not to jump. The demon king had approached in complete silence, her soft footfalls not betraying her movements at all. When the demonhunter turned around, Koursturaux was standing behind her dressed, quite literally, to kill. Gone was the soft black wrap that accentuated her femininity and strength in equal measure, replaced by a set of leather hunter’s armor. It was far more modest than her casual attire, and as much as she still looked sexy in this outfit, the bare feet, the unstrung bow across her back, and the sheathed greatsword crossing her back in the other direction spoke of strength and power. Kari’s gaze lingered on the unstrung bow for a few moments; the staff had to be seven or eight feet in length. The demon king apparently hunted with a longbow, which was odd.
There was challenge in Koursturaux’ eyes, as though she was waiting for Kari to ask what was down below. “Shall we go, Your Majesty?” Kari asked, avoiding any such questions or even hinting at judging the demon king. She was judging her, certainly, but Kari planned to keep such thoughts to herself.
The demon king smirked again, and gestured down the stairs. “We will go out the lower exit,” she said. Kari hesitated, and Koursturaux swept past her and began to descend. “Come along, Lady Vanador.”
She didn’t bother asking the demon king to call her Kari. Something gave her the feeling that the demon king was using the more formal and distant form of address on purpose. Kari began to descend in Koursturaux’ wake, and she swallowed the feeling of wanting to retch as the smell of blood and other things far less pleasant became stronger. By the time they reached the base of the long stairs, Kari wondered how the stench of blood and excrement didn’t managed to rise up to the main floor of the palace. From the top of the stairs, she’d only noted the slight scent of blood.
Turning down a hallway, Kari tucked everything she’d seen and heard of the demon king in the last day into the side of her mind. Before her was a row of prison cells, and the occupants cowered into the back corners at the sight of the demon king. Koursturaux strode past as though they didn’t exist, but she did stop in front of one cage, and turned to scowl in at its prisoner. “I will be going hunting for a couple of days, Mijer. But you and I will…talk more when I return, make no mistake.”
The whimpering of the mallasti male, curled into a ball in the corner of his cage, further confirmed to Kari that talking would have no place in the king’s interaction. Kari said nothing, merely following the demon king deeper into the bowels of the palace dungeon, until they came to an open room with a long, wide stone table in its center. The chains restraining an elestram male to the table, nude, and the blood that dripped in near-silent testimony to the pain he was in nearly made Kari turn and walk back. She had a prisoner in the Order’s jail back home that she had briefly considered torturing, but nothing like this.
The walls of the open room were covered in hooks, from which hung numerous knives, prods, and razor blades of all shapes and sizes. A brazier in each corner shed light to illuminate the room, a stark contrast to the arcane nature of the light elsewhere in the palace. The reason was made obvious by the many metal implements left casually in their flames, heating to an orange glow whose use was all too apparent.
“Evanja,” Koursturaux greeted the elestram female who stood across the table holding a long razor.
Evanja glanced at Kari and then spoke in the Citarian trade tongue, accented and stilted as was common to the foreign speakers. “Your Majesty,” the elestram returned with a slight bow of her head. “This one seems to be approaching the talking phase, finally.”
“Good. Make certain he is ready to speak when I return in two days,” the demon king said, and she continued through to the door on the other side of the room.
Kari hesitated a moment, her eyes locked with those of the elestram “surgeon” who was clearly also a torturer. Evanja held Kari’s gaze with an unblinking one of her own, and then she slipped splash goggles over her eyes and ran the razor she was holding down the center of the trapped male’s belly. Kari sucked in a sympathetic hiss, and she shook her head and loped to catch up to Koursturaux quickly. For the briefest of moments, Kari wondered if an opportunity might present itself to kill the demon king while they were alone out in the forest.
“Do not feel badly for those you have just seen,” Koursturaux said over her shoulder as they continued to another staircase. This one was narrow, its top arranged into a defensive setup, apparently should anyone invade through the castle’s lower exit. “These are spies, rapists, abusers, miscreants of all kinds. Contrary to what you think, I do not simply torture people for amusement.”
“But you do enjoy it,” Kari accused before she could think better of it.
Koursturaux turned back and fixed Kari with those glistening black eyes. “Oh yes, I do. Do not hold Evanja too much to blame, Lady Vanador. She does as she is ordered, as is right.”
I fail to see anything right about it, Kari thought as the demon king began to descend the stairs. After a couple of minutes of descent, they emerged through two locked metal gates and out into the sunshine at last. Away from the sounds of pain and the smells of a dungeon, the light of the sun seeped into Kari’s skin and helped dissipate the images of what she’d just borne witness to. Not completely, of course, but she tried to focus on what was before her, and not what lay behind. She had to entertain the demon king for a few more days, and then she could go home and think all the rotten things she wanted about Koursturaux.
There was a wide stream behind the palace, and Kari saw that it sprung out of the rock cliff upon which the castle stood. It seemed to explain where the palace got its water from, and Kari looked down its length and into the forest to the north of the castle bluff. Koursturaux stretched out under the sun and yawned. She looked up the cliff at the back of her castle, she let forth a hmph, and strode across the stream toward the woods.
“So…what are we planning to hunt?” Kari asked, skipping across the stream to fall into step beside the demon king.
Koursturaux didn’t answer immediately. She knelt down in the soft, cool soil below the shade of the canopy of foliage, and Kari quickly saw the many sets of tracks. It seemed animals came to the stream even close to the castle bluff, but Kari noted that the size of the tracks and the way they dashed into the underbrus
h suggested they weren’t good hunting. It looked like the tracks of smaller animals like raccoons or porcupines, and Kari wondered if Mehr’Durillia had counterparts to those animals from back home.
The demon king stood up and began walking again. “My personal larder is fairly full from my last hunt, but we will stock it for the weekend’s gala. I will be hosting a ball to send you off home again, but you can put in some work helping to supply the food.”
Kari chuckled. “Of course.”
“I think a few stags and some wild turkeys will do nicely. We should be able to find some of both to the northeast, though we will likely enjoy our best hunting tomorrow. Tonight, perhaps you and I will spar, and you may test the wisdom of your earlier thoughts.”
Kari’s heart nearly stopped, and her stomach dropped into the pit of her pelvis. She felt the sweat bleed out of her skin in nervous prickles. “Your Majesty?” she stuttered.
Koursturaux stopped walking and turned to face Kari. “You think far too loudly, Lady Vanador. If you are going to treat with me and my peers, you must learn to better guard your thoughts. I heard you wondering if you could kill me in my sleep as clearly as if you had spoken such aloud.” Kari started to reply, but the demon king cut her off with a sharp wave of her hand. “I understand why you would think such a thing, Lady Vanador, but do not insult my intelligence by trying to suggest otherwise. The one I can understand and forgive, but disrespect me like a fool and this visit will be concluded immediately.”
Kari sighed. “How much of my thoughts can you hear?”
