Della Rovere yawned as the world passed him by. Undoubtedly a punishment, his Holiness had sent him to a distant backwater to investigate the deaths of local nobles in a landholding dispute. Apparently the entire family had died. Outside the yellow haze of sunset descended upon the nearby farmland. Della Rovere’s hired carriage had emerged from the fog to reveal a sleepy village with little sign of life. The carriage pulled up to a dimly lit tavern in the village of Calw and Della Rovere stepped out into the crisp night. Della Rovere paid his driver who quickly snatched the money and rode off into the night. Confused Della Rovere turned to the tavern where he heard naught bawdy and lively conversation but… sobbing?
Curious Della Rovere ignored the church and opened the tavern doors to see a handful of people drinking in mourning. Della Rovere felt awkward and didn’t necessarily want extra attention, he’d verified at the very least nobody seemed to have been freshly murdered and was thinking about leaving. His cardinal robes would draw enough attention and he didn’t want to interrupt a private moment. He settled for a spot at the end of the bar and an older man with curly black and grey hair approached with a glass and a rag in his hands.
“May I help you… father?”
“Yes I’ve just arrived and I overheard the patrons over there crying. I thought I might be needed but upon further reflection it seems… not.”
The tavern keep leaned over and spoke even quieter, “Apologies but we don’t get learned men here very often. So how can I serve you?”
Della Rovere feigned a smile, “The apologies are mine, wine please.”
As the tavernkeep poured some local wine Della Rovere reflected on the absurdity of arguably the church’s number two spiritual leader sitting in a dead end tavern drinking cheap wine. How easily the mighty fall, Della Rovere thought to himself.
“Lemme know if there’s anything else,” the tavernkeep said as he began to turn away. Della Rovere quickly leaned over and touched the tavern keep’s shoulder “Actually, well. I don’t mean to pry but has a tragedy befallen these people? I’d heard about several nobles being slain but this seems different.”
“Oh the nobles,” the tavern keeper grumbled, “Not many’d grieve for them. But the curse took mor’n just the nobles. The curse is killin everyone in this town.”
“Beg pardon did you just say a curse?”
“Are you deaf father? Or just dumb? You heard me, it was a curse.”
Della Rovere ignored the insult for now, he never took public insults personally in fact if he was disrespected in public it only served him further politically for being a gentle man of god. Everyone knew he could reduce a man to a pile of gore in seconds on a whim. “How do you reckon it was a curse?”
“It started with the daughter, then soon the whole family had it. Coughing and bleedin they say. Died horribly I heard. But the curse continued, to the servants, the servants' families, their friends, their children’s friends, and so on. What you see in here are most of the survivors.”
“My God… Why didn’t the parish send for help? The church has plague doctors who can assist.”
“I suppose God didn’t think much of the priest either on account of him dying around the same time. The church is empty now, it’s probably cursed too.”
“I’ve come here on account of His Holiness Pope Pious XXIII.”
“What’d a big shot like the Pope want with this little town?”
“I’m not sure. But it’s clearly more important than drunk priests and local disputes.”
“You have any experience lifting curses, holy father?”
“Very little I’m afraid. But it’s my experience that curses and the like are the work of men. And I have much experience investigating and reaping corrupt men.”
“Well unless you can reap us a cure I suppose I don’t give a shit. If you’re hungry let me know. Business is bad and all, on account of eight out of every ten dead. You should bunk here, I’ll even give you a discount. Maybe a Cardinal brings more luck than that damned priest.”
“No need for a discount my son. I’ll pay the full price.”
“Curse or not I like you already father. Welcome to town, population’s a' dwindling.”
***
“You asked to see me Abbess?”
Abbess Faustina stirred, her chair creaked unnaturally and her hand shot out to grasp her desk as she rose to her full height. “Ah yes, Mary. I have a job for you.”
“A job?”
“Yes, this comes from His Holiness Pope Pious XXIII himself.”
“What could he possibly want with me?” Mary asked. Behind her Prioress Bolotova audibly groaned and slapped her own forehead.
As Mary turned the Abbess continued, “Don’t delude yourself girl. To His Holiness you’re naught but a more of dust in his periphery.”
“Oh...” Mary said dejectedly.
“His holiness wishes you to track down the latest members of the Unholy 7. Their names are Alfso and Ribold.”
“Aren’t they necromancers of incredible power?”
“Yes but according to Cardinal Della Rovere’s testimony they are relatively new and inexperienced. They’ll only get more dangerous from here so it’s better to track them and snuff them out.”
“Holy Mother, I don’t think we can handle the mission.”
“Of course not. You’ll track them and report back. Engage only if absolutely necessary.”
“We understand Holy Mother. We’ll report back to you everything we find.”
“You’ve heard the rumors of Magnus Bahamut?”
“Yes holy mother.” Mary and Sofia replied.
“The one called Alfso did what others failed to do and summoned it once more. He is credited as having bested Cardinal Della Rovere himself.”
Mary was shocked. Everyone knew and respected Della Rovere. He was the pope’s fist rooting out corruption and heresy. She knew little about the Bahamut other than it was a large and dangerous summoning in history books. For a child to utilize it and best Della Rovere it was impossible for the Pope to not get involved.
“And the other one?” Sofia asked.
“The other one is Ribold. He seemed to be just a scrappy necromancer brat but he was the apprentice of Donatien Gange. He survived Cardinal Della Rovere’s direct attack and has now succeeded the Huguenot as a member of the Unholy 7.”
“They sound like two sets of difficult problems,” Sofia said.
“This Alfso sounds like the bigger threat though,” Mary said lost in thought.
“That’s where you’re wrong Mary.”
“What? Why? You said it yourself that Alfso is wielding the Magnus Bahamut and bested Cardinal Della Rovere. How could this ‘Ribold’ be worse?”
“He’s the son of Katharsis Merron, the Twilight Witch.”
Sofia Bolotova froze as Mary spoke up.
“The who now?”
“The Twilight Witch. Wanted dead by both the necromancer guild and the church. Katharsis Merron is responsible for many high profile deaths on both sides. You wouldn’t have heard of her considering she hasn’t been as active since you were but a babe but make no mistake, the son of Katharsis Merron is the one Pope Pious XXIII said to prioritize in the event they split up. His mother is said to be on par with Jerome Vollrath himself. Ribold will be extremely dangerous, if possible learn from him the location of his mother and then dispose of him.”
“It will be done Holy Mother,” Sofia said bowing.
“Holy Mother, do you want us to take him alive then?” Mary asked, her voice betraying her concern.
“If you value your life then no. Kill him with extreme prejudice. His mother is a separate issue and I suspect if he were capable of reaching her he’d have done so by now.”
“I understand Holy Mother. We’ll spy on them and when there is an opportunity, Ribold will die.”
“See to it. Maintain frequent communication with me and only me. If you go without communicating for three days, I’ll find you myself.” Abbess Faustina said threateningly.
Swallowing her fear, to be entrusted with such an important task Mary trembled with excitement. “Thank you Holy Mother, we will not fail.”
After the two prioresses departed the Abbess spoke amused, her dried lips peeled back in a sadistic smile, “And what about you Sofia? What will you do if you see the child of the woman that destroyed your convent? When you’re so close to getting what you want?” The Abbess chuckled to herself and returned to her scrolls of dead girls and continued reading intently.
***
In a dark cavern Katharsis strolled along casually flanked by undead cardinals illuminating the darkness with flaming swords. Legions of lepers and worse lined the darkened halls intimidating but standing aside and allowing her to pass. The four undead cardinals’ swords blazed hot purifying the putrid air within. She emerged into a massive underground amphitheatre and saw him, Ruprecht the Plague sitting upon a throne of maggots and corpses. Even surrounded by a holy barrier of air as hot as an oven the stench still caused Katharsis to stifle the instinct to wretch.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Gazing at the flames, Ruprecht felt the urge to wretch at the sight of holy fire. He preferred the dark dampness, it was easier to cultivate his precious tiny scions here. Even now he could feel the fear and revulsion of the entire amphitheatre, lined with hundreds that he’d killed with plague, ready to throw themselves on the pyre to douse the flames should the need arise. His assortment of illnesses instinctively feared the flames. Ruprecht had been alone for so long it was hard to distinguish between the fears of his unseen trillions of animalcules and himself who had a long standing fear of the church and its tendency to burn what it didn’t understand.
Ruprecht spoke, his hollow gravely voice echoing across the chamber unnaturally as if every disease and leper reverberated his speech, “Katharsis Merron, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Lord Ruprecht, I’ve come to-”
Behind Katharsis a young girl wretched and vomited violently. Illuminated by Katharsis’s holy unholy Cardinal Honor Guards a young girl stumbled out from behind Katharsis. She wore black armor and carried a shield in the shape of a coffin.
“Sorry! Uh… Blurgh!” Moments later the young girl regained what composure she could manage and wiped her mouth on her gauntlet still holding the coffin lid as a great shield on her left. “I’m Fabienne! Lady Merron’s thug!”
“E-excuse me?” Ruprecht said incredulously.
“I’m Lady Merron’s thug! She dislikes fighting and uses me to protect her!”
Leaning forward on his creaking throne Ruprecht ignored the young woman and asked with a gravely reverberating voice, “‘Lady’ Merron... Do you plan to sacrifice this one for something? Or is this farce meant to entertain a lonely old man who rarely meets eyes with a young woman?”
“As if! Lady Merron hired me to be of service!”
“You know me too well Ruprecht.” Katharsis said slyly.
“Wait! What?!” Fabienne shrieked.
“She’s going to fight the church in my stead. If she survives long enough I may even arrange a marriage between her and my son.”
As Fabienne’s face turned white with shock Ruprecht’s dry blackened lips peeled back to reveal a nightmarish cavalcade of rotted teeth, “So it’s true... Katharsis Merron did what? I wonder...” Ruprecht stroked his chin considering, “Fall in love? You? Impossible! I trained you better than that!” he spat furiously.
“I do admit Ruprecht that I’ve always admired your methods,” Katharsis said.
“A pity you chose not to help me with my research of the animalcules...”
“Ruprecht we both know that your plagues kill. And you’ve never allowed anyone to research a cure for them. After a while it gets boring. A sword or dagger is faster, hell I could summon a mountain of stationary corpses to crush someone to death and it’d still be more efficient than your plagues.”
Fabienne trembled nervously, “L-Lady Merron? Maybe we should talk about that before you summon a mountain to-”
Ruprecht interjected, “Oh! That’s where you’re so very wrong my death Katharsis. I’ve perfected my craft while you’ve galavanted around with some lover! Tell me, little Kat! Where is your lover now?”
“About to be the next Pope I’d imagine.”
Ruprecht leaned back in thought, his mind racing to think about which Cardinal would be foolish enough to fall for Kat. In moments he reached a realization, it could only be him. “Della Rovere? If you managed to crack that nut then perhaps you are more cunning than I expected.”
“Anyways I’ve come to ask you a favor.”
“You? What could I possibly do for you?”
“The time has come, spread your perfected plague in Rome. It’ll start a revolution that will end with Della Rovere on the Chair of Saint Peter.”
“If Della Rovere becomes Pope…” Ruprecht stroked his mottled chin carefully in thought, “You become Pope don’t you?”
“Exactly! Della Rovere is a hopeless romantic. He’d never turn against me. Now as for destroying Jerome Vollrath, that is a much more difficult task but I think with a concerted effort between the church and enough of the Unholy 7, Vollrath too will fall.”
“Your hubris knows no bounds Katharsis.” Ruprecht said in a carefully neutral tone.
“You flatter this poor little peasant girl,” Katharsis said mimicking a humble curtsey.
“You want my life’s work to be the spark of your little revolution?”
“Yes Ruprecht. Your research will be remembered for generations to come. Small towns and petty grudges are beneath you. You are the most dangerous member of the Unholy 7 and I need you in order to make the revolution work.”
“I refuse.”
Katharsis paused, blinking for a moment and smoldered, “Might I ask why?”
“Rome is filled with holy men. I may possess the most seniority but don’t think I’m so senile as to be manipulated with your praise. I am the most dangerous member of the Unholy 7 even if it’s plainly obvious you believe that title is actually yours. Even if I released my animalcules in the Vatican, the rest of Christendom would unite to stop me. Furthermore your dream of revolution is nothing more than an idiotic scheme of a spiteful little girl!”
“Hey watch your mouth!” Fabienne shouted.
Ruprecht stood from his throne and waved her away in anger, “Silence! Your life is smaller and less significant than my most impotent animalcule. Furthermore Katharsis I’d sooner burn it all to the ground on my terms than surrender my life’s work for you to bungle!”
Katharsis composed herself, maintaining an air of calm in spite of her disappointment, “I’m… sad Ruprecht. I really thought you were a man of vision.”
“My vision is different from yours Katharsis! You want to change the world. I only wish to depopulate it on my own terms.”
“Getting paid a premium to help victims commit murder suicide?”
“Providing a service for vermin to self exterminate!”
Katharsis smiled, “So you’re telling me with over a century of research you still can’t fight Rome directly?” She laughed mockingly, “What a pitiable excuse you are! No vision for greater things, just an incubator in intolerable pain, all for the table scraps of lesser nobles!”
“Begone with you, Katharsis! And take your pet project with you!”
Katharsis walked away turning for just a moment to smirk at Ruprecht. “Goodbye Ruprecht, I doubt I’ll ever see you again.” He clenched his fist in rage and his lepers stood preparing to attack at a moment’s notice. The four cardinals slowly took defensive stances and their flames grew even brighter and hotter, “Now don’t be stupid Ruprect. If you doubt your ability to fight all of Rome, then you know I’ll crush you like the putrid little pest you are.”
“Get out!” Ruprecht roared and all of his thralls from men to mites and smaller still echoed his sentiment, a legion of feral voices great and small.
***
A few minutes later Katharsis emerged with Fabienne and the Cardinals in tow from Ruprecht’s hideout.
“Madame Merron, did you really mean to attack Rome with plague?”
“It was worth the attempt.”
“Is your plan ruined without him?”
“No Fabienne. Just delayed and hardly an unexpected delay either.”
“What will you do now?”
“I’m going to ask you to be my spy. You’ll lie, deceive, and leak the information I tell you to when I tell you to.”
“But I got this big shield to smash the enemy’s face in...” Fabienne whined.
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with my plans, smash as many as you please.”
“Woo-hoo!” Fabienne pumped her empty hand in excitement.
“Now…” Katharsis wondered aloud. “To whom shall I send you first?”
***
In the village of Calw, Della Rovere sat in the now abandoned church over a desk alit by a single candle. He’d spent the day in the dusty damnable place and had requested that the tavern keeper send over anyone and everyone to testify how the plague started and how it spread. Della Rovere sighed rubbing his temples “This really should have been given to Severo, I don’t understand a damned thing about illness.”
Behind him the church doors creaked open and a new face stumbled inside. Della Rovere turned and saw it was a woman carefully wrapped in a shawl. Della Rovere’s face brightened up, he was happy to speak to anyone at this point. Gently Della Rovere spoke, “Please come in my daughter. How can I help you?”
“Some tell me that you’re a Cardinal here to investigate the curse.”
“That’s right. I’m collecting testimonies but thus far it’s been superstitions and tales.”
“I can tell you all about it.”
Della Rovere pointed to a nearby chair, “Please do.”
The woman pulled the chair further away from him and sat down. “My name is Nadine and I am the cause of this curse.”
Della Rovere folded his hands in doubt and his friendly demeanor soured, the last thing he needed was another tale of a wife walking under a ladder. “I find that hard to believe that you could cause all this. Do tell me then, how you purport to have perpetrated this curse.”
“I let it all happen holy father.”
“How so?”
“My son, my sweet sweet son. He was greatly troubled.”
“And?”
“His father… His father was an awful man, we’re nobles but lowly. We were an arranged marriage but my husband was not ever a kind man.”
“An all too common tale I’m afraid,” Della Rovere chimed in.
“You see my son, Noah was once a gentle hearted boy. He was bethrothed to a merchant’s daughter. We initially agreed because nobility is worth little without the funds to back it up and likewise money is worth little without the blood to back it up. My son’s blood and their daughter’s dowry was to save us all.”
“And it didn’t?”
“One night my husband... ” Nadine began to sob.
“It’s alright my daughter. Take your time,” Della Rovere had participated in enough confessions to tell truth from absurdity, and this woman’s body language told him that even if she had nothing to do with the plague, what would come next would still be important.
“He...” she sniffled and tried to stifle her tears, “Oh God. Why’s it so hard to speak of when he’s dead? He’s dead! Why’s it so hard father?”
“The most grievous wounds can become infected my child. Please help me to help you heal them.”
“That’s just it holy father, there are some wounds that are fatal. That there’s no coming back from.”
Della Rovere sympathized more than she could know, “Confessing the truth is always hardest of all. Perhaps mortal sins cannot be forgiven in this life, but for the sake of the next you must try.”
“My husband hurt people. He always has. He hurt me, and others under his control. But we never dared fight back or question him.”
“Are you saying your husband’s actions are responsible for this curse?”
“I suppose so but I feel equally responsible for not stopping it.”
“Tell me what happened, everything. Leave nothing out.”
“Well… Our son Noah was betrothed to the merchant girl. My husband decided to claim her maidenhood for himself, said it was a ‘custom bestowed unto him by god.’”
Della Rovere winced, it was for this purpose he was cardinal of the interior, rooting out this disease within the church yet it always reemerged somewhere. Each case was his failure and that of the church.
“Did you ever think to consult with the priest here?”
“He was the one who said leave it alone.”
Damn him, Della Rovere thought.
Nadine continued, “I begged him not to, just this once. After all Noah and our other children never understood their father’s true nature. I begged and reasoned with him, I vowed I’d let him use me anyway he pleased as long as he didn’t jeopardize our son’s betrothal. Yet it was not to be. My husband does what he always does, the poor girl fled back to her family. They were outraged and banished her to a convent. And my dear Noah was driven to committing an unspeakable evil.”
“No evil is unspeakable to me, my child. Tell me.”
“Noah contacted a man. A sickly man and made some kind of devil’s bargain. Noah visited the girl’s family and our own, spreading the curse as he went. He died an excruciating death. Soon everyone else followed. His father, brother, sister, his betrothed’s family; soon everyone fell to my son’s curse. The curse his father created, that I permitted, and that my boy Noah carried out. Now everyone's dying to it and I fear it may never stop.”
“You have it too don’t you?” Della Rovere said.
“I have maybe a day or two at most.”
“I forgive you,” Della Rovere said without a moment’s hesitation.
“But father, I don’t want forgiveness. Let me burn in hell with my family. Noah was right, it’s where we belong.”
“My child, to protect those you love, even if they’re monsters is what it means to be human. It may be a sin but God understands. He made us, he knows what we’re capable of. I’m just grateful I managed to get here in time to hear your confession. I’ll do what I can for you but I’m not a healer. We can only put our trust in God.”
“I failed as a wife, a mother, and as a parishioner.”
Della Rovere finally understood the situation. It had to be Ruprecht. There could be no other. This wasn’t the first time but it had been quite a long time. Still he had to verify, “This sickly old man who drove the devil’s bargain, tell me more about him.”
“I didn’t meet him directly.”
“How did you learn about him?”
“Noah confessed to me shortly before he died.”
“Tell me everything he said.”
As the sickly woman recounted her son’s dying confession, Della Rovere masked his fear. If Ruprecht was active again countless more would meet the same fate.