The horses stopped, snorting. "It looks like it's here," the baron thought, looking out of the small window of the carriage at the sturdy stone house. It was not easy to find him among the lush thickets of the untrodden city outskirts, and even in the early autumn twilight, but it was Agrippa who was recommended by knowledgeable people as the best in his field. The Baron hit the heavy door hammer several times and waited for an answer.

The door opened heavily, and the face of an elderly gatekeeper appeared in the crack.

"My name is Baron von Oldenburg. I have come on important business to the Venerable Agrippa of Nettesheim.

The gatekeeper opened the door and motioned for him to enter. The atmosphere of the house was ascetic: the baron had nowhere to sit down while waiting for the reception. He looked around the uncomfortable dwelling until the gatekeeper escorted him to a special hall, in the center of which sat an elderly gray-bearded man. There was an open book and a pen on the table, and an inkwell next to it. Approaching the table, the baron noticed that the furniture was located in the center of several circles, between which inscriptions in Latin and other languages were scattered. Words, individual letters, some icons and diagrams, and in the center is a cross with a five-pointed star superimposed on it.

"My name is Baron Heinrich von Oldenburg–" the visitor began to introduce himself again, sitting down on an upholstered chair. – I have come to you on an important matter. You see...

– Not to me, - Agrippa stopped him with an upraised hand– - To me only the essence: power, money, women, war...

- Power.

- I hope you know the terms of such transactions?

- Absolutely.

- Then let's start.

Agrippa cleared away everything superfluous from the table and took out a blade covered with mysterious symbols with a silver-trimmed handle.  Sticking it into the table, the magician drew a star around the blade with chalk, closed his eyes and said distantly, quietly, but very clearly:

- Eternal and almighty God, who prescribes to give you glory with prayers, I ask You to send me a spirit from the order of Jupiter, which helps You to rule the firmament, so that he may serve me willingly, faithfully and truly.  Agrippa paused, then continued. "Spirits, whose help I need, behold these signs and the Sacred Names of God, filled with power. Leave the poor people whom you torment, abandon evil deeds, come out of your caves, burrows and dark closets to a bright place where Divine kindness will unite us. Listen to our orders and follow them. Your deliverance is in obedience, not in resistance. I Order you By The Mysterious Names Of Elohe, Agla Elohim Adonai Gibort. Amen.

Agrippa was silent again, but as soon as the baron opened his mouth, he continued:

–I summon you, Machiel, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, the blessed Trinity, the ineffable Unity. I conjure you, Machiel, the spirit of power and greatness, judgment and retribution, the spirit of supreme justice, appear to us, show yourself so that we can see and hear you, talk to you, and that you fulfill our desires, truly and faithfully serve us. Hear me on this day, my prayers and words, The Sacred Names of God Elohe El Elohim Elion Zebaot Eskerehis Ia Adonai Tetragrammaton. Amen.

The old man paused and slowly opened his eyes. He was silent, and the baron thought it prudent not to open his mouth until he was asked. So a few minutes passed. Suddenly, an attractive young girl in a floor-length gray robe came out of the dark next room almost soundlessly. Without raising her head or looking at the men, she modestly sat down on a chair in the far corner of the hall.

"This is Machiel," said Agrippa. - Dear Baron, tell Machiel your story.

"I am Baron Heinrich von Oldenburg–" he began to explain the essence of the matter. His thoughts were confused, speech was difficult, he felt his body shivering and covered with goose bumps under the magnificent robe. – I am the youngest son of Count Hieronymus of Oldenburg. The most unloved and despised son. Suffice it to say that my older brothers inherited the title of earls, and I am just a baron. My father could never see in me the abilities of a statesman, he believed that I was not worthy to rule the county after his death. Although it was I who was guided in every act only by the interests of the state, while my three brothers thought only of military exploits, wealth and glory. Therefore, when I found out that Count Jerome was going to divide our Oldenburg between them, I decided to prevent it. I ambushed the elder Dietrich when he was walking along the river, and pushed him off a cliff. The second brother, Richard, I put poison in his food. The third brother, Otto, when he was returning from a drunken party unworthy of his title, was met on a dark street by an assassin hired by me. I executed them because I decided that they were not capable of ruling our county! But even then my father didn't give it to me. He bequeathed Oldenburg to his daughter from his first marriage, who was then married to the Elector of the Palatinate. And when my father died, the elector's army occupied our capital, and the new ruler established his own rules in the state. And I, the rightful heir to the Oldenburg throne, was given only a small detachment of soldiers and a tiny possession with a thousand peasants. But I deserve more, my destiny is the great throne and the crown of the ruler!

– How are things going in your current domain?  Machiel asked in an unexpectedly low voice.

- Great! - The Baron became more and more inflamed, his fear completely disappeared. – First of all, I have branded every inhabitant of the village so that everyone knows: this is the property of Baron Heinrich von Oldenburg. These damned peasants have finally learned what it's like to work for real! We have eradicated the sin of idleness, now no one is hanging around as before, because I have imposed such taxes on them that they have to work constantly to pay them, and even to feed themselves. And those who don't pay, I put them in a hole. And they do not grumble, because I explained to them: only honest work is the basis of a virtuous life. Those who murmured lost their tongues. And I condemned the blacksmith, who forged one more sword than my court ordered for him, to be burned in his own brazier, because the attempt to revolt the peasants must be nipped in the bud. As a result, the affairs in my possession acquired harmony, wealth increased, and people began to live in accordance with God's regulations, prescribing each worm to dig its own piece of land. And now I ask you, almighty Machiel, to help me bring Oldenburg back under my shadow, or give me another state, so that the principles I have outlined for building a virtuous kingdom will become flesh and blood.

Machiel raised the beautiful maiden's eyes full of indifference to the baron and stared for a long time without blinking. He became afraid again, he waited for the decision of his fate with anxiety and doubt. Finally, the spirit said:

- Go to your place and wait for the messenger.

And she slowly left the hall, disappearing into the darkness of the next room. The joyful baron paid the magician handsomely and left.

Week after week dragged by, but nothing happened. Doubts settled in Henry's soul, and wasn't everything that happened with the magician just a staging to get money out of him? What made him think that the girl was actually a spirit, and not an ordinary village whore who played the role of a spirit for a coin? Over time, the idea of deception grew stronger and established itself in his head, he cursed himself for his gullibility and dreamed of getting even with Agrippa. The shining throne from his dreams faded and began to seem distant and unattainable. All these rulers of the German states, electors, dukes and margraves, nonentities who only wanted to get drunk and spoil the girls, sat on their own thrones, and he, most worthy of the title of ruler, vegetates among vile brutes who understand the whistle of the whip better than the words of statesmanship. From these thoughts, the baron became embittered, became sharp and irritable, and everyone around him felt his mood on their skins. Corporal punishment and torture became commonplace, and the baron and his retinue of soldiers given to him by the elector arranged a hunt for fugitives. The bodies of peasants torn apart by dogs were put on stakes and placed along the only road leading from the village, so that they would serve as a lesson to others.

Autumn turned into winter, that was replaced by spring, then summer came, and when it began to decline, a messenger came to the baron. The dreams of the throne were kindled in him with the same force, and he received the ambassador with extraordinary enthusiasm. He brought exciting news: in the nearby principality of Hesse-Kassel, the throne was empty, and there was no one to occupy it. And he, Heinrich von Oldenburg, turned out to be the closest relative of the deceased prince on his mother's side. The baron knew nothing about this state and the relatives there, but it did not matter: he did not believe his happiness, he thanked God, the Devil, all the spirits and saints for this reward of his patience. So the old sorcerer wasn't lying, and the ceremony was real!

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Henry did not want to delay. Having gathered his retinue, he announced the joyful news to the courtiers and offered to go to a new country together. The soldiers, who faced the prospect of becoming sovereign nobles, agreed without hesitation. The village, which suddenly seemed even smaller and shabbier, was left to the governor, the best horses were harnessed to the carriage, things were loaded onto the wagon train, and the procession set off. The horsemen toyed with their brand-new armor in the September sun, and the baron himself kept changing seats on the velvet-upholstered side of the carriage in order to be the first to see his new country, his own throne.

Finally, the wagon train got close to the very border of the principality. The landmark was two rocks sticking out of the ground on both sides of the road. So we got to them. Having entered this peculiar gate, the travelers found that the terrain had changed. The green canvas of the steppe, thinned by floral inclusions, was suddenly replaced by the blackness of the earth, covered only by the wrinkled caps of pale mushrooms. Then there was a dense swampy forest, an impenetrable thicket, from which disturbing sounds were heard. The weather turned bad, heavy clouds crept in, raindrops fell every now and then. One could only wonder at these sudden natural metamorphoses. The Baron wrapped himself in a cloak, drank wine and peered into the distance, hoping to see his destination ahead. However, visibility was poor, the air seemed to thicken, cloudy and dense. It seemed to the Baron that the more intensely he looked at the landscape around him, the more intently he looked at him. He felt someone's presence so clearly that it was only by willpower that he kept himself from constantly looking around.

No, only forward, behind and to the sides there is nothing else for him. There will still be time to explore everything here, because this is already his domain, now he is the king here, he paid a great price for his right to this title.

Suddenly, silhouettes of people floated out of the gloomy haze. At first it seemed to the baron that they were travelers walking towards the procession. However, as he approached, he realized that people were not walking along the road, but were hanging on a rail nailed to two posts on the roadsides. Four men and one woman. The legs of the dead dangled just a meter above the road, and it was impossible to drive under them or go around. The driver stopped the carriage, and the baron, having gathered his resolve, looked up at their faces. And immediately regretted it, because he had to look into the open eyes of the dead.

He had looked into the eyes of people executed by him, and he was ready to swear that they looked completely different from those who were looking at him now. These seemed to be alive, seeing, testing; they did not testify to the finding of eternal peace by their owners, but shouted about their suffering and begged for help. "Damn it, there are only criminals here!" thought the Baron. He dismissed the idea that the hanged men were still alive as ridiculous and gave the order to clear the road. Two horsemen with halberds jumped down from their horses and began to cut the rail near the ends. She did not resist, and soon the dead fell into the mud. It was considered impractical to drag them off the road, and the carriage, jumping up, moved over the bodies. Without knowing why, the Baron looked down. The unfortunate people continued to look at him, and he turned away.

Even this incident could not make the baron climb inside the carriage: he wanted to see the country over which he had to rule. Besides, he wanted to meet living people and pay their respects. And after an hour of a dreary journey, Henry had such an opportunity. A procession on foot was moving along the road, soldiers in black armor were walking in front and behind, and between them several dozen people chained together. Logs lay on their shoulders like rockers, pressing their heads to the ground. Small notches helped the log to stay on the neck, and shackles hanging on chains at both ends of the logs insured against attempts to get rid of a heavy load. Noticing the approaching riders, people began to huddle to the side of the road.

- Hey, you, what are these people being punished for?  The baron called out to the guards. One of them, a hideous bald big man, reluctantly turned around and stared at his new master.

"Each for his own," he replied.

– Do you know who I am?

"I know," he said with a barely perceptible grin. –You are our new king. Greetings, Your Majesty!

And the procession continued on its way. The baron was infuriated by this reception, he expected a slightly different behavior from his subjects. However, it is stupid to start your reign with a skirmish, it is more prudent to first get to the castle and take the throne, and then put discipline in order. Moving on and again catching up with the procession, the baron carefully looked at the escorts. Everyone had some flaws in their faces and figures, which could not be said about the prisoners, quite ordinary people. "Disgusting freaks, as a selection," the baron thought of his new servants.

It was almost dark when the wagon train reached the town located at the foot of the castle. Things were not going well here, decay and ruin reigned everywhere. The houses were small, made of rotten and darkened wood from dampness and old age; the narrow, broken streets were buried in dirt and sewage. People lived in poverty and crowding. The faces were tired and haggard, they bore the stamp of despondency and indifference. The Baron noticed that there were absolutely no children on the streets playing near houses or running in flocks. Women are busy only with work, they had anything in their hands, but not the hands of children. "This is bad," the baron reasoned. - If women do not give birth to enough children, then soon there will be no one to replenish the army."

Finally, the wagon train drove to the main square of the town, from which a straight street led to the castle. There were several relatively large and sturdy buildings, near which soldiers in black armor were clustered. "Some kind of barracks for the troops keeping order in the settlement," the baron suggested. What kind of rabble was not among the soldiers: lame, oblique, crippled, covered with scars, burns and ridiculous drawings. The eye clung only to their ugliness, but not to the usual military posture and bearing for this class. And immediately Henry outlined a reform: "This is no good. The king is judged, among other things, by his army. What will the neighboring rulers think of me when they see these degenerates under my majestic banners?"

The square lacked all the institutions inherent in the city. There was no trade, the peasants did not shout near the pubs, the clock on the town hall did not set the rhythm of city life. The absence of a church particularly struck the baron, and the lack of hot spots seemed to him a big omission. "People need to eat," he reasoned, "stare at all sorts of abominations and believe that at the end of a worthless life, each of them is waiting for the highest reward – eternity. Then the crowd is more obedient than under pain of immediate death. And here there is nothing to look at, except for the executions. But they seem to have a taste for it here." Dismounting, he walked past the pillory posts, to which people covered with blood and dirt were chained; past stocks, stakes, racks, gallows... And everywhere there is a scream, a scream, a groan... A pit was also dug here, in which several people were sitting, shaking from cold and fear, with their bodies covered only with mud. They raised their heads, stretched out their hands to the baron, begged to get them out of here. Their ruler felt uneasy, and he hurried back to the carriage. The wagon train moved to the castle.

Low, squat, dark stone, the castle was an example of a complete lack of thought in architecture. The walls were covered with soot and mold, there was no protective moat; everything screamed about the poverty of the former ruler. Courtiers came out to meet the newly-appeared prince. They were led by a short man in a shapeless hoodie. A hood hid his wrinkled face. The man spoke, drooling on his chin:

- Greetings to you, O great ruler of our homeless kingdom! My name is Erich, I am the regent. We hope that you came to us at the behest of your soul, and the way here was not too hard for you.

- Thank you, Erich, the trip was wonderful. I am in a hurry to ascend the throne, accept the title of prince and take over the administration. Things are going well for you, as I had the opportunity to see, far from perfect. But I'll fix it.

The baron spoke with great enthusiasm, and the regent only smiled slightly, hiding his face under the hood. Henry gave the order to take the horses to the stable, and the companions to the best rooms. He himself expressed a desire to inspect the castle. And first of all, the throne room. It turned out to be large, dark and very cold. The throne itself was rough work, made of iron covered with rust. The Baron decided to sit on it, although a vague feeling of anxiety suddenly rose from some unknown depths. But there was nowhere to retreat, the courtiers looked at him searchingly and waited for the solemn moment. And so Heinrich von Oldenburg realized his dream - he sat on the throne. Now he is the ruler, the ruler of his own state, the administrator of lands and souls.

The regent brought a crown, an iron hoop with a black stone, and handed it to the new owner. But as soon as the crown landed on the baron's head, iron braces jumped out of the throne and slammed on Henry's wrists and ankles. He tried to pull away, but the cold metal held him tight.

– What does all this mean? - shouted sovereign. - I demand to release me immediately!

But the new courtiers only laughed loudly at him. Meanwhile, the throne bristled with thorns; they dug into the baron's body, pierced his legs, arms and back, bored, tore the flesh. A fire was burning under the seat, and the throne, which had seemed so cold at first, turned into a brazier. The crown squeezed his skull, he screamed and begged for mercy, begged for freedom or for death, but the answer was only laughter.

Suddenly, the baron saw a beautiful girl in a floor-length gray robe walk through the crowd of courtiers. She approached the throne and put a cool hand on Henry's forehead, causing the pain to suddenly leave him.

"I beg you, spare me, let me go home," he shouted. – Why would I do that? We had a contract...

- I'm not a buyer, I'm a judge, who pays you the measure for the measure of your baseness. Your heights are covered with fog. You have judged, now you are judged. And your sentence is eternity.

She took her hand away, and the pain returned. The Baron could not restrain her, he screamed and begged for salvation, although he knew that his cry would not leave these walls. Machiel slowly turned away and disappeared behind the laughing courtiers. The fat on the ugly faces swayed, lips trembled, mouths spluttered with saliva, dirty fingers pointed at him, the great sovereign of the country from which there is no return.