***
Deiweb’s smoke drifted over the walls of the Capital, mingling with the bonfires shining through the night. He silently slipped by the city guards enjoying their games of dice under the fire’s glow. With the constant noise from the imps and wolves in the distance or pointlessly scratching the light’s barrier filling the night again, they relaxed until the captains broke it up to get them back on watch. Deiweb sailed lower for a better view of the city. Teams of workers and inspectors were rushing about the main way. They chiseled at spillways, fussed with shining the bronze on the gate, and worked to beautify the city. While they focused on the main way, the few workers on the side streets were just as frantic, checking drains and taking away trash. The citizens objecting to the noise didn’t matter to Deiweb. He continued to soar past the rudely awoken peasants tossing pebbles from their roofs at the workers, chuckling at the mayhem.
Deiweb continued to the Keep. Every window shone with the fully tended hearths or lit wicks. He slipped by a few. The hurried aura was palpable even in the Outside. Servants scrubbed every crevice and prepped every cushion to make sure they were just soft enough. Deiweb made his way into the main meeting hall, transforming before he entered and stepping down from the air through the window.
“Your task is completed. I shall—”
His pomp and upturned nose fell as he looked around the empty main meeting hall, save one servant diligently polishing the table. Confused, he peeked outside the hall and was met with more servants. His annoyance flared as he marched out and down the halls, searching for any noble until he snagged a sprinting servant by the hair, making her drop the logs she was carrying.
“Hegwous, where??”
“I don’t know! Probably the throne room!” she yelled back.
“Ugh!” Deiweb whipped her away.
The throne room was the epicenter of the cleaning chaos. The servants were like a flood, covering the floor and throne, polishing and scrubbing. Hegwous looked to be pacing at the center of it all, but was only spinning back and forth, addressing every local noble, minor city and house governor, and servant that ran up to him. They were incessant, as if he was the finishing marker of a race.
“My Lord,” a supremely elderly woman called out. While the jostle of servants and nobles bickered, they still made way for Ahbigah and her hunched back. “The servants, we’re getting tired. They’re not used to doing so much work, night shifts, day shifts, changing schedules. We’re no soldiers.”
“You wake up to tend to us.” Hegwous rapidly skimmed through two still wet tablets, nodded, and handed them back to the scribe with ruined characters.
“What?” She stepped closer and tucked her hand under her hood cupping her ear. A servant to her right relayed the message to their leader. “But we are no soldiers. Wake up once, yes, but not so much.”
“Lord Hegwous!” The head of the Capital’s storehouses and coffers finally shoved her way through the throng. Arthkwatye’s smaller height made it easier to duck under the jostling elbows. “Without the taxation from the other houses I don’t know if we’ll be able to pay for this extra work.”
“And you won’t get any more until you tell me when you’ll repay us for the Scorching!” governor Vitroi shouted to the Lord’s left.
Hegwous couldn’t even reply to either of them. Instead, he dragged his hand down his face and coating it with flecks of clay, then snatched the tablet from Arthkwatye’s hands.
“Look!” She pointed with her reed stylus. “We had to bring in some locals or impress other servants from the upper class who demanded compensation for the lost time. Your increased trade isn’t making up for the lack of trade with Uttara now. It costs more to import from the ports and up through the Outside because of the Scorching! And the patrols to keep the roads safe are adding to that cost. We can’t just replace the towns that were lost and we’re still behind on every measure, we can’t keep up this flurry of activity! We had to bring in more levies and common people to work on their sections of the city as well and those from other nearby cities!”
Gehsek pushed to the center of the mob who collectively groaned at a third person cutting in line. He ignored them, concern marking his features as he pulled his Lord aside.
“Hegwous. Sit down,” he said.
“We haven’t even begun supplementing the food stores,” Hegwous retorted, but trailed into a groan. “We’ll have to start making corpses to drain at this rate.”
“There’s still time. The girl is—was an outlier. Nothing new has come into play to hinder you, Lord Hegwous.”
“What girl?” General Malik in his bronze chest plate called from the edge of the crowd, coming in to deliver the day’s scouting reports to the Commander. “Shouldn’t we have been told?”
Governor Vitroi looked to governor Bhida who had only just awoken and come to see what all the fuss was about.
“Has the embassy arrived?” Bhida asked.
“No, they said something about some girl.” Vitroi answered.
“What girl?” Bhida asked.
“You’ll be informed if it concerns you!” Gehsek yelled. The room quieted, but wouldn’t be cowed.
“Wait… Is this about that girl? The one who found a Malihabar seal?” Vitroi began putting the pieces together.
“HEGWOUS!” Deiweb exploded as he burst through one of the throne room doors.
Everyone started, his voice echoing off the walls with supernatural volume to slay all other sounds. Unlike with the Commander of the plateau’s armies, the throne room stayed silent.
Hegwous whipped around, clutching his chest with his face running even whiter with shock. Gehsek grabbed him before he could fall, keeping him steadied and stroking his back as the Lord of the Keep doubled over, out of breath from the surprise.
Deiweb’s annoyance was replaced with amusement as he clapped his hands together. With a smug grin he purred, “the job is all done. So, I’ll be taking my leave.”
“She’s dead?” Hegwous let out a long, ragged breath.
“No.”
“What?” Gehsek growled, keeping Hegwous from falling limp to the floor.
“I left it to, and this will really give you a laugh, her mother!” Deiweb tapped his chin coyly and his smirk deepened. “I do love the irony.”
Hegwous wheezed and gripped his chest tighter. The group of nobles around him took a collective step back.
“Who?” Hegwous wheezed.
“Her mother. You’re deaf now? She’s one of those, uh…” Deiweb snapped as if he just remembered the word. “Spirits! Yes. One of them now.”
The oldest nobles and governors froze, scoffed, or looked to each other for answers, anything to explain away the news. They put the pieces together that a young noble girl was seen alone in the scorched Outside, carried the Malihabar seal, and caused their Lord such trauma could only mean one thing. Hegwous collapsing to the ground was all the confirmation, they needed that Janelsa Malihabar, the ruler of the whole plateau, who fell at their and Hegwous’ hands, had continued on as a spirit and her daughter had even been inside the same walls as them.
“Happy thoughts, my Lord. We’ve dealt with spirits. We killed her once. She had a whole army. Her single spirit should be nothing.” Gehsek stroked his back and nearly embraced him. “You’re fine.”
“She seemed on top of it. I gave her a better way to track her daughter now. So, I assume she’ll finish the job in no time.”
“Go back out there and kill her!” Gehsek roared, stepping forward, shoving past the petrified nobles who then all fled as one, but he caught Deiweb’s sudden glare.
It pierced him through his soul. His armor and position as right hand to Hegwous did nothing to protect him. It was a glare far beyond that of a father who was given an order by a child, or a Maharaj told what to do by a foreign peasant. Gehsek buckled. But his Lord, barely able to stand, frantically motioned to the servants by the throne.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
A few pointed to their chest to confirm, then ran into each other in their rush behind the throne. Ahbigah craned her neck, confused as her servants executed an order she hadn’t heard of. Two of them held the ends of a massive bronze gilded trunk, shuffling with terror as they came forward. Rather than continue to Deiweb, they caught his glare, and slammed the trunk down at Gehsek’s feet. His armor clattered as his head shot from the servants, to the trunk, to his Lord who nodded, to Deiweb who’s brow shot up, intrigued.
“My Lord, when did you—” Gehsek started.
“Give it to him,” Lord Hegwous demanded.
Gehsek shared the servant’s desire to flee, but couldn’t act on it. With shaking hands and suppressed anger he bent over, and gave the trunk a gentle shove which launched it across the floor.
Deiweb held out his foot, catching the trunk as it flew towards him. It cracked under his heel as it crashed to a sudden stop. His glare had faded, but his tone was nearly as stern.
“And this is?” Deiweb asked as he bent over to unhook it and his tone suddenly broke. “Oooh!” With glittering eyes he beheld the contents sealed inside, one half a pile of the finest meat, the other a pile of every type of beer the Capital could produce. Deiweb nearly salivated as his trembling fingers wrapped around an entire bull’s leg that was bigger than his head, seared and dripping with spiced fat. He hoisted it above him.
Hegwous took in a final breath and dared himself to stand, just in time to catch the sight that filled the throne room with horror. Deiweb’s head was a blur, stripping the bone in a single, imperceptible flurry of tearing flesh. Disgust and terror ran through every face. One towards the back dry heaved.
Deiweb casually pulled the entire leg bone clean from his mouth, as if nothing was amiss. He broke off both ends before snapping it in half. “I suppose I can make sure she’s dead.”
“W-Wait.” Hegwous straightened himself up as best he could.
“My Lord!” Gehsek pleaded as Hegwous stepped forward. “He is appeased!”
As Deiweb sucked the marrow from the bone, his slurping making the same servant dry heave again. Hegwous seized a nearby servant by the hair and began dragging her from the crowd.
“Hegwous!” Ahbigah shuffled forward as fast as her old feet would move her, a normal running speed for one who became a gwomoni at her age. Her morass of wrinkles furrowed into some distorted look of rage, until Hegwous backhanded her away into the crowd.
Uncaring and unphased, he held the servant before him. She tore at his skeletal fingers closed around her hair like a vice but Hegwous’ arm remained unnaturally rigid.
“Oh. Oh my.” Deiweb cocked his hip, tossing the bones to the side.
The other nobles, city rulers, governors, and even servants began yelling at him to stop. The governors watched in horror as the girl fought for her life like an animal about to be slaughtered, they looked to General Malik who looked to Commander Gehsek.
“Hegwous!” Gehsek screamed in protest, but was ignored.
Hegwous slammed his other hand into the servant's shoulder. Her scream as his nails dug into her flesh could barely escape her throat as he seized her neck and squeezed. Her voice grew higher and higher until it was a gurgle as his nails bit into her flesh and her southern complexion degraded to red then blue. He kept squeezing. The room was silent but for the desperate gurgling of a dead woman and the slow snapping of her neck. A final surge of strength and her head rolled from atop his fist. Her head and body hit the floor together. The finality echoed through every ear. Blood flooded from her neck and pooled at Deiweb’s feet. He smiled.
“Alright.” Deiweb held out his hand.
Hegwous stepped forward avoiding the blood to grab her hair and place the head in Deiweb’s palm. The stump sizzled and cauterized at his touch then shrunk as he moved it to his shirt.
“I accept,” he said. “Was that so hard?”
“Kill her and her mother’s spirit and bring me their heads.”
“Not sure about bringing a spirit’s head, but I’ll do my best.”
Deiweb snapped his fingers, calling a scrawny wisp from the inside of his shirt. It slithered to his side and popped into shape revealing the servant girl’s new form. Dumbfounded, she examined her semi translucent body and dropped her jaw at her decapitated corpse lying before her.
She wailed, only to have Deiweb snap again and draw her back into his shirt.
He bent down and took a hold of the chest causing it to shrink as well as he moved it to his shirt. He bowed and extended his hand. “To your health,” he said, his smirk overpowering his bow, and he vanished.
A moment of silence passed.
The nobles were either quiet from what they witnessed or eyes wide with natural desire for fresh human blood rather than the diluted amalgam they were fed every day. Ahbigah slowly broke away from the group, step by step, but stumbled before she rounded Hegwous. The sight of the servant's neck stump made her faint.
Another moment passed, then another, until Hegwous looked down at the corpse.
“By the Light, what do you think you’re doing?!” Gehsek erupted and stormed forward, stopping just short of crashing into his Lord, a cue for every noble and servant to flee the throne room as two servants hurried the unconscious Ahbigah out.
Hegwous’ tone was like ice. “Making certain the problem is solved.”
“By trusting Deiweb?!”
“He’s the most powerful ally I have. Do you think any of our men can find the hanur and Janurana and kill them fast enough? Including Janelsa now? She’ll want my head more than yours or any of them!”
“The Gwomon won’t even notice!” Gehsek shook his hands in front of him as if he wished Hegwous were between them.
“I will not risk that!” Hegwous snapped back and leaned forward. His slumping posture faded as a fraction of his proper height showed. The silvery flanges of his cloak pulsated, but Gehsek remained resolute. “Uttara still has an army, defeated or not. It’s burning bridges all around the Capital. They’re effectively trying to keep any southerner from entering! Our plan to depose their leaders is still a few moons off! Our governors are still upset—”
“Because of Deiweb!”
“We needed to win!”
“Their armies were already in retreat!”
“Every army has feint tactics, Gehsek. Don’t try to convince me that you’re ignorant of that possibility. What happened when you battled Janelsa’s forces that final time before we stormed her city? It was centuries ago but I’m sure you remember! You learned it from her husband of all people!”
Gehsek pressed his lips together, but didn’t dare respond.
Hegwous continued, his volume rising with every statement. “You can assure me with abject certainty that their retreat was true, and not the same trap tactics you yourself used against the woman who somehow continues to be a thorn in my side? We had been going back and forth, taking and losing cities, losing warriors to their cursed spirits even with the Light Ascetic’s help. I understood there was one way to assure victory without further loss to your soldiers. To keep the loyalty of these cursed governors who were already testing their limits because of the war’s toll. I didn’t know he would start so far south. Neither did Upavid. She studied the tablets about him as best she could and paid the price when Aarushi killed her! The Scorching was an atrocity, but a necessary one. You should know this much about sacrifice.” He fisted his hands, his skin sounding like leather against itself, and glared into Gehsek’s eyes for what would have been a heartbeat but felt like a year. “Now, the last bastion of Janelsa Malihabar’s resistance… her bull headed obstinance, her arrogance, her dynasty has found its way back to hinder my conquest again. Her blood was within my walls!” His voice had all but risen to a shriek. His black hair had fallen into his face further belaying the nearly uncontrollable rage and fear he had been fighting to hide. “And now she travels with one of the best dhanurs your or my people have ever seen! And the cursed spirit of the woman herself is not far behind! The lies we told the people about waging this war and about the last piece of the Malihabar house are unraveling as we speak, but, as always Gehsek, you are correct. And no one will notice a thing.” Hegwous voice lowered to a normal volume with the edge of a frigid razor.
Gehsek peered into Hegwous’ eyes, responding with the caution of one dancing on said razor’s edge.
“Daksin is still under your control. You can still incorporate what you have into the Gwomon’s holds. The kingdoms from Kiengil between the two rivers to the two kingdoms of the Nile to…” Gehsek struggled to remember another name. “Punt and Yam, My Lord, are you of the mind that they don’t all have troubles? They will come. You will discuss trade, exchange methods of control, plan future embassies. They’ll approve of you and our plans to take the north. Then they will return to their own kingdoms and the many uncertainties that follow. You’ll be fine. You’ve conquered more than enough to regain your place among them.”
Hegwous cloak settled. He still twitched with anger, but less at Gehsek and more at his circumstances.
“But we can’t rely on Deiweb.” Gehsek tried to press his point with Hegwous calming.
“And why not?” The Lord snapped again.
Gehsek closed his eyes and took a breath. “We cannot trust him. We cannot control him. The Scorching was… you say atrocity? Half the plateau at least, we can’t even send scouts out to properly survey the damage or coordinate with the governors because we have to secure the roads and watch the north’s jungle more since we can’t rely on any spies! Even now we—”
“Will the Gwomon notice this either?” Hegwous’ voice cracked from his shrieks. “All the more reason to ensure success.”
“You gave him a simple task and he refused to do it! You had to give him a human sacrifice just to have him kill two people and banish a spirit!”
“And we need blood to survive, Gehsek! I fail to see the difference!”
“You could have done the same thing with warriors and a bag of gems! How will you maintain the servants' trust and loyalty, are you of the mind they will trust you more now? What will it take next? A head of house?”
“You think I’d sacrifice you?” Hegwous asked, his words stinging his own ears.
Gehsek paused, leaning back, the elephant sigil of his house weighing down his cape. “I don’t know now.”
Hegwous was static, only his eye twitching, until he shook his head, bundled up his cloak, and slid past Gehsek. “I have failed them before. I will not lose something so powerful or risk the dhanur, Janelsa, or her daughter undermining regaining my place in the Gwomon. All our work will not be for nothing. Continue preparing the city. Get them back in here to scrub this floor and collect the blood.”
Gehsek’s fists clenched as Hegwous thrust open one of the doors out of the throne room. It knocked back the few who were brave enough to listen or still crave the flesh, they either sprinted away or acted as if they weren’t eavesdropping. Gehsek shook his head with a sigh of pity.