"Stop! Stop, you poor fools! Yes, he may be an orc! But does he not feel? Does he not care? Does he not weep over his lost loved ones? And can he not know salvation? I say that he can, and it is our deeds and not our manner of birth which determines who we are and what we shall be. If he would creep in the shadows and try to listen to the words of Brimir, than I shall minister to him personally. For all men can be saved by the grace of the Lord and the Founder– even if those men happen to be orcs!"
–
Pope Obteneratus I, 'On the Salvation of All Things Whether Low Or High'
…
The firelight flickered, casting long shadows against the walls of the grand hall of the overlady. Dark red banners and draperies hung from the ceiling. A demon, a vampire and a necromancer had gathered here to listen to the pronouncements of their dark leader.
"Ladies. We have a problem," the overlady said, stroking the white cat on her lap.
"I'll say so," said Princess Henrietta, who was attending in her full skull-covered ensemble. "My… my kingdom is in the hands of someone possessed by some manner of demon or something." She slammed her bone-decorated gauntlets together. "This is completely unacceptable! That hasn't happened since… since… since my mother was possessed! But that didn't really count because the Duchess de la Vallière punched her out as soon as she noticed and then threw her in a holy font! And there were at least three generations without any demonic possessions before that! Well, two and a half."
"Didn't Mother break the queen's nose?" Cattleya asked.
"Well, yes, but better a broken nose than demonic possession." Henrietta adjusted herself. "Anyway, my mother probably had it coming for being the worst mother ever," she added sullenly.
"Quite so," Louise agreed, silently only agreeing with the first part. She shifted uncomfortably, wishing that she hadn't worn her armour for this. Her body was aching all over, even if Henrietta's magical and not-necromantic help had alleviated the worst of the bruises. She had one on her… her posterior that she hadn't wanted to show to her, and it was sore despite the extra cushions she was sitting on. "This isn't what I want. For one, I can't very well get revenge on the Madame de Montespan for being a… a wanton harlot and a female cur and many other things if she's not herself! However!" She clapped her hands together. "I am not a fool. I do not rush in without thinking."
"Well, that's not quite true," her elder sister began.
"Shut up, Catt! I don't rush in without thinking
anymore. Much. That often." The overlady cleared her throat, tickling Pallas' belly. "Now, ladies, we find ourselves in the position that we may well be the only people who know that the Madame de Montespan is possessed. I had considered informing the Church, but – how should I put it?"
"They probably won't believe a demon, a vampire, a necromancer and an evil overlady," Jessica said helpfully.
"A blunt way of putting it, but accurate," Louise said, giving her cat a tickle under the chin. Pallas swatted idly at the tassels hanging from the overlady's surcoat, giving them a good gnawing whenever it managed to catch one. "From what we know, she's a servant of the dark god Athe. Now, Jessica. Why don't you tell me more about him?"
Cattleya pouted. "Hey! My cult worships him as one of their gods! Louise! I'm hurt you're not asking me."
"I just thought that a demon might have better insight than a cultist," Louise said hastily. "Right, Jessica?"
"Uh… I dunno. I mean, I didn't study theology at college. It's only weirdos who do that sort of thing. You know, people who go to those diploma mills run by a dark god or a demon prince."
Louise glared at her for that betrayal. "And of course we'll need to consider the ramifications of acting against a dark god. We don't want to risk uniting the forces of the Abyss against us."
"Nah," Jessica said, flapping her hand. "Like that'd matter. It's totally Evil to screw over another Evil guy who's getting in the way of your revenge. No one will object."
"Well, that is excellent…"
"Of course, Athe'll like totally object because… well, it is his plan you're fucking up. Well, probably. He's a bit unpredictable. He's a dark god, rather than a demon, so he's a bit… nouveau riche. Also you know, not too popular in the Abyss 'cause, well, most demons get a bit sick of immigrants who tried to get in claiming that they're being persecuted in Heaven and stuff like that. I mean, sure, he'll have backing from the migrant community, but there's a lot of people who'd rather see the back of him."
Louise had not known. "I'm sorry," she began. "But I seem to be lacking some critical information. You say he's a dark god, rather than a demon? What's the difference?"
Jessica looked at the expectant faces of the other women in the room. "Oh crap. Did you not know?"
"Nope," Cattleya said brightly.
"No," Louise said.
"It's all a bit fuzzy to me," Henrietta said, frowning.
"Don't mind me," Gnarl added, sitting in the corner and eating beetles by the handful. No one had seen him come in.
"Okay, I'll lay it pretty simply. Demons come from the Abyss. Well, okay, so do a bunch of dark angels and stuff, but that's because they were born there and… let me start again. Angels come from Heaven, demons come from the Abyss. Yeah?"
"Mraa," agreed Pallas, demanding a tummy-tickle.
"That all seems theologically accurate," Louise said after some thought and some tickling.
"Okay. Right. So when an angel realises that it's way more fun being Evil, Heaven kicks them out or they have to flee before Heaven arrests them or kills them for, you know, being Evil. So most of them wind up applying for asylum in the Abyss."
"They apply to be locked up because they're crazy?" Henrietta asked. "But you said they were fleeing imprisonment in Heaven."
Jessica opened her mouth. Jessica closed her mouth. "They run away to the Abyss, okay?" she tried again. "So they've been doing that for a long time, so there's lots of dark angels who were born in the Abyss – like Garz, Garzeniel… look, she was someone from prep school who I was friends with before she wound up as one of Izah'belya's cronies and… okay. 'Demons' equals come from the Abyss. 'Dark angels' equals originally from heaven, become evil, cast down into the Abyss, sometimes they have kids so there are third generation angels who you can barely tell from demons… well, apart from the accent."
"Mmm hmm." Louise blinked. "The accent?"
"Did you know, some people say that originally demons came from Heaven too? That's why the Dark Tongue and the Light Tongue are basically the same. Only, like, we rebelled and got our freedom to do whatever we wanted without their rules in the way. And anyway Heaven was stopping us invading the Underworld just because they'd signed peace treaties with them! So unfair!"
"And dark gods?" Louise asked, trying to keep on top of the topic and also ignore Jessica's casual blasphemy. Although everyone knew that demons had been cast out, so perhaps they thought they'd been rebelling when they'd actually been exiled for treason.
"Uh… like, I'm not 100% sure on the difference between angels and gods, right? I think it's the difference between… like, lower class demons like imps and demon lords. Like, my demon side is way, way more powerful than just about anything down there. A god's sort of like that relative to angels. But don't quote me on it. I didn't take those modules at college."
Louise looked at Henrietta. Henrietta looked back at her. They both looked at Cattleya. Cattleya looked at Louise. Cattleya looked at Henrietta. They both wondered who was going to speak first.
"Um. There's only one god," Cattleya, who had lost the glance-off, said warily. "Well, one good god, that is. There are lots of dark gods, but they're just demonic forces of malice."
Jessica sighed. "Okay, like, there's like no way I'm getting into a religious argument with you. Let's just agree to disagree, right?"
Henrietta leaned forwards, a curious expression on her face. "Actually, on that note, who
do you worship, Jessica? There won't be any problems because Athe owns your soul or something akin to that?"
Jessica laughed. "Hell no. There's no way I'd worship a dried up stick like that."
"He was quite nice when we talked," Cattleya said, sounding mildly hurt. "He likes my sketches."
"I guess I'm meant to technically worship Dad and my grandad," she continued, ignoring Cattleya, "but… well, Dad doesn't insist, and the King of Hell is trapped even worse than Dad so isn't in any position to benefit from it. My aunt insists all her daughters worship her and grant her a percentage of everything they take, though. Serves them right. Oh." Jessica frowned. "I guess my mother did that ritual with me with the candle and the fan and the earth and the water bath, though."
"You were consecrated?" asked Louise harshly. If she had gone through the ritual, then…
"Yeah, that thing. So I think I'm also technically a Brimirian."
Louise decided to ignore that, because if Jessica was one that would make her an apostate and then Louise wouldn't be allowed to talk to her. Anyway, the consecration of demons was theologically shaky, even compared to things like orcs and dragons. So it might not have even counted even if it had really happened. Which it might not have.
She sighed. That left her with one real source for acquiring need-to-know information. "So," Louise stated, "Cattleya, I am going to come with you to your meeting of the cult. I need to find out more about Athe."
At least she'd get to see Magdalene again.
…
There were setbacks, of course. For example, Pallas objected strenuously to Louise's attempts to leave her behind.
"Let me go, you stupid cat! Get out of my robe!"
Fortunately, an equitable resolution to the conflict was found where Pallas got to lie around Louise's neck like a feline feather boa and in return Louise was not viciously clawed by a cat. The overlady didn't feel it was a very equitable resolution, but that was just sour grapes on her part.
"Mraaaaaaa!" Pallas said smugly, rubbing her soft furry cheek against Louise's.
"Vicious and cruel cunning monster," Louise muttered.
Pallas nuzzled her ear, purring.
Still, despite all that the evening was going well. Mostly. Well from her point of view, at least. One of the cultists managed to trip over the hem of her robe and knock the black candles onto the sacrificial altar they had been setting up. The unholy oil had gone up in flames and Magdalene had been very sarcastic about how the ritual was utterly ruined. But that wasn't Louise's problem, since the eighty-three centiEleanores of mean comments hadn't been directed at her.
So rather than attempting to evoke an aspect of an abyssal deity, the cult of noblewomen were instead sitting around in comfortable armchairs, drinking wine, and gossiping. Magdalene had tried to open a discussion on a philosophy book that she had just read, but no one really seemed to be bothered. Not when they were busy discussing the events in Amstreldamme, at least.
And
that was very interesting. Very interesting indeed.
"Do you mean, the madame de Montespan used to be part of this group?" Louise asked, eyes widening.
"Oh, no, that was a different group," Comtesse Jacqueline van Rien said cheerfully. "Wasn't that when we were the Ebon Sisterhood of the Lethean Depths?"
"Weren't we the Umbral Widows of the Spider-Goddess Ruhb'rta?"
"No, no, that was earlier. I think we were the Red-Handed Sorority at the time," another one contributed.
"Oh goodne… badness, yes!" Jacqueline said. "I'd tried to forget that! It was always such a pain getting the animal blood off your hands. Black cockerels bleed everywhere!"
The disguised Henrietta frowned. "Do you… swap dark gods all the time?" she asked.
Jessica chuckled. She was here as a demon, although that mostly meant that she had unfolded her wings and was wearing something made of liquid shadow which Louise considered utterly scandalous. Worse, several of the cult had already expressed interest in commissioning something from her. "Well, that's the sensible thing to do. Not many mortals are bright enough to realise you get the best interest rates on infernal investments if you make sure to change your provider frequently and never get locked into a long-term contract."
There was a popping as Lady Magdalene roused herself from her sulk and cracked her knuckles. "Yes. Because those people are literally idiots. Some people don't even read the small print! Idiots, all of them!" She glared at Jacqueline. Something about her seemed distracted, though. It was as if she was just going through the motions. "Very stupid. Fortunately I'm here to bring some much-needed
not being an idiot to us."
"But it seemed like such a good deal," the Comtesse van Rien protested.
"Idiot."
The comtesse's lip wobbled. "Y-you're being mean," she tried. "It was just a little mistake!"
"And you nearly sold your soul to Terreni the Absolutist. I think it is perfectly acceptable for me to direct 'mean' at you if it means you'll remember just how stupid you were when you nearly-"
"I beg your pardon," Louise interrupted, not least because the other woman looked on the verge of tears, "but… are you saying that the Madame de Montespan would have known about Athe all along?"
"Why, yes. Of course."
Louise waited for Magdalene to expand on the point, but she seemed remarkably reluctant to do so. "Well, why haven't you used it against her?" she tried.
"Because that would be entirely ill-mannered," one of the other noblewomen muttered. "We
are sworn to secrecy, thank you very much. We are a black sisterhood and to betray one another would be…"
"Evil?" Louise hinted.
"Dreadfully gauche!"
There was a burble of agreement.
"Being evil is one thing, but bad manners are totally different!"
"We worship respectable dark gods here, thank you very much!"
"Only ill-bred people would go around betraying each other!"
"And no one wants a repeat of the l'affaire des poisons! Poor Marie-Madeleine-Marguerite!"
There was a hush. Somehow without moving everyone around the hapless Jacqueline was shuffling away from her.
"I mean, no one wants to have an affair! That'd just be r-rude!" she tried to recover, but the general consensus was that she had gone and done it now.
There was, however, no explosion of meanness from Lady Magdalene. She just sat there tight-lipped. This seemed to shock everyone, most of all Jacqueline.
"Um. Mag? This is usually the bit where you shout at me," she tried. "Do you have a fever? Because I can get some honey-and-lemon for you… ooh, and I heard that garlic is good for-"
"What's the point?" Magdalene said softly, shoulders slumped over. "Nothing changes. We're just playing dress-up in black robes. We can't even do a proper ritual without spoiling it." She twitched back her black hood, and rose to her feet. "I need some fresh air," she said, voice brittle. "Pray excuse me, ladies. No doubt you can find some way to entertain yourself without me."
And with that said, she swept out. A little bit of Louise was in awe at how good she was at that. Louise had tried to sweep out of a room like that before, but it always seemed to turn into a storming out. Magdalene had the height to pull it off.
A shocked silence resulted.
"… she didn't shout at Jacqueline."
"I do hope she's not ill."
"Oh, she's probably just saving up something mean to say. More wine, anyone?"
"Um," said Louise. "So." She got to her feet, Pallas protesting slightly from being woken. "I think I'll just go and see if she's okay," she said as she left.
"It's your funeral when she bites your head off," one of the other women muttered.
"Oh, Magdalene," Maria de Anoun said, shaking her head sadly. She was sitting very close to Cattleya, to the extent that their chairs had essentially fused into one long bench. No one was being so rude as to mention that Maria was looking a little pale and wearing a high-collared gown under her robe. "Another tantrum? Really? Grow up."
"Now that's not very nice," Jacqueline reprimanded her.
"Jacqui, she's constantly nasty to you. She bullies you."
Jacqueline flapped a hand whimsically. "Not really. She's just a bit bossy. And she says some mean things, but she's just not good at showing how much she cares. After all, she puts lots of effort into organising this! Far more than any of us do. I don't think we appreciate how much work she does sometimes."
"You always stick up for her! When she constantly calls you an idiot!"
"I just don't like to see people upset," Jacqueline said placidly. "And she's usually right about the whole… you know, abyssal cult sort of thing. She's always been smarter than me, ever since school. It's why she's high priestess. Well, when we have a high priestess. Anark doesn't like them, but I think they make everything better. Um, worse. But it's just more comfortable when we have a high priestess. It's like being in church, only not." She reached over and patted Maria on the hand. "Just you wait. She's probably just worrying herself sleepless again over trying to find a new dark god or demon lord. She always gets tetchy when that happens."
Henrietta shifted in her seat. "I'm dreadfully sorry," she said, "but I seem to be missing something. What was l'affaire des poisons? I've heard it mentioned a few times, but no one wanted to explain it to me."
"Well… uh. It's not that we don't like to talk about it…"
"… no, it's exactly that. We don't like to talk about it." Maria looked around. "Who's got the wine? Let's drink to the fact that we haven't had any more accidents with love potions since!"
"Didn't you-"
"We haven't had any more accidents with love potions since," Maria repeated firmly.
"Hear hear!"
…
The dark angel Baelogji stared up at the bedroom ceiling with the eyes of the Madame de Montespan. These eyes were rather unfocussed and slightly crossed, despite her best efforts to make the body work properly.
She was… she was just a little distracted right now. Yes. Just a little distracted. She listened to the quiet breathing of the man lying next to her.
Oh
my.
That had been… intense. Of course, it wasn't like she was some kind of fainting virgin. She'd been married twice – although of course her first marriage had been to an angel which meant it had been very chaste and sexless and he had been more interested in his rare book collection anyway. But after she was cast out from heaven, she'd married a demon lord to help secure her position.
It hadn't been the same. While of course the Abyss was vastly superior to Heaven, what with the rejection of petty morality and full reign for her to unleash her genius with flesh and the way there weren't sneering
censors telling her that her ideas for a creature which was part duck and part beaver was ridiculous…
… in many ways it was a loveless place. Lustful, but loveless. She had been a trophy for her husband, a prize that he could brag about, a 'newly fallen angel' that he had 'personally corrupted'. She had never loved him. Later, she had hated him.
At least she had been left all his lands in his will when he mysteriously was devoured by mutated hell-beasts that had paralysed him with venom and then eaten him alive, starting with the feet. The Abyssal coroners had decided it was a death by natural causes, because it was natural to die when one was eaten alive by hell-beasts. She had been quite relieved to get away with that. While murder was in no way illegal in the Abyss, the Succubus Queen in her position of regent of Hell had passed laws stating that anyone sloppy enough to get caught couldn't inherit.
She took a deep breath. She had to calm herself. She had to centre herself. This was all the fault of the memories of the Madame de Montespan's soul. She'd had to tap it for memories and now it was screaming in the back of her head for daring to sleep with her beloved.
Shut up, she mentally hissed at it.
"How dare you! I will never forgive you! Never! Y-you defiled him! With your demonic l-lures and…"
Baelogi tuned her out again. Oh, she was going to enjoy tormenting her when she got out of this filthy human body. This degenerate, pathetic, wingless human body. And she couldn't even improve it! There were so many ways she could make it
better. Sharper teeth. More eyes. A hardened carapace. A redesigned respiratory system. But oh no, she had to look disgustingly human. And not even any human! This one! This disgustingly petite human. It was vile how much she had to fold herself down to fit in here. Intolerable. Quite intolerable.
She would have to use her position to find some short humans and make… improvements. It would help her de-stress. At least she'd have access to plenty of test subjects here.
Swinging her legs out of bed, she stood up. Or tried to. She was just a little weak at the knees right now. The wall turned out to be a handy way of supporting herself, thank wickedness. The stone was painfully rough and she was feeling too cold. But even though the human world was painfully cold, she… she just had to get away from the sleeping Wardes. It strengthened Françoise-Athénaïs' spirit, somehow.
There was something seriously wrong with this woman. No human should feel this… this intensely! She looked over at the man and it felt like the bottom dropped out of her stomach. Looking away resolutely, she crossed her arms and thought of all the many design flaws in the human body that should have been fixed long ago before the propositions had bogged down in Heavenly committees.
That was it. She felt better. Just a momentary weakness. That was all. She… she just had to get used to handling a human's sensory input. And then she'd spend a few hours tomorrow torturing Montespan back into compliance. So she'd stop bleeding
feelings into her mind.
The possessed woman gazed out of the window over the smoky night of Amstreldamme. The cool night breeze picked up and she fell over with a muffled scream, feeling colder than she'd ever felt even in the depths of the Abyssal winter.
Stupid human bodies feeling cold! Why didn't they have a proper insulating layer of blubber?
…
Carefully, Louise picked her way through the country home. She had been assured by the cultists that they'd made sure the servants were out of the way – and Louise believed them, because the food suffered for it – but this just made the household a cold empty place.
Honestly, she'd probably have worried more if she hadn't been living in a ruined abandoned evil tower for over a year. After a certain point she'd got a bit inured to mild amounts of creepiness.
"Mrraaa," observed Pallas, jumping down off her shoulder and pacing ahead. Brushing some stray white cat hair off her shoulder, Louise followed her cat.
A sound of distant sniffling reached her ears. Carefully Louise turned a corner and found the library. In her considered opinion, it wasn't a very good library. It was rather small. Poking her head down one of the aisles, she found Magdalene curled up on a chair, her head resting on her knees. She lifted her face at the sound of approaching footsteps. Her eyes were mostly obscured by her reflective reading spectacles. They glinted in the dim light as Louise came to a halt in front of her.
"Oh. It's you," the older woman said. Pallas leapt up onto her chair, and gently patted her hand until Magdalene picked her up.
"Yes. Are… are you feeling all right?" Louise tried, and then changed her mind. "Wait, no, that's a stupid thing to say given that-"
"Why do I even bother?" Magdalene muttered, turning a despairing gaze on the overlady.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Why do I even bother? What do I get from this?" Magdalene sighed, slumping down. Her generous blood-red lips wobbled as she petted Pallas. "It wasn't meant to be like this. I just wanted to get the best and brightest women in Tristainian society together so… so I could have some
darn intelligent conversation and maybe become a secret conspiracy with our hands around the throat of the aristocracy! I wanted to be the power behind the throne! Is that so wrong?"
Louise considered the question. "Um. Yes?" she hazarded. Pallas climbed down and rubbed against Louise's leg, mewing.
"Exactly! We were going to do it properly! We were going to treat the powers of the Abyss as things to exploit! We weren't going to get locked into anything which would leave us trapped! I… I… I had it all planned out!" She blew her nose loudly into a black silk handkerchief. "And look at how it turned out! They're… they're not even really interested in… in…"
Magdalene's words were lost in the burble. Louise considered her next course of action. On one hand, she really shouldn't be comforting someone whose self-proclaimed goals had been to take over Tristain through an evil conspiracy. But on the other hand, she
liked Magdalene. Maybe it was the shared de la Vallière heritage, but they seemed to get on well. And considering that the reason she was upset was that it hadn't worked, that made it less bad, right?
"There, there," she said, pulling the older woman up into a hug. Immediately she realised her mistake. With the difference in height between the two of them – not to mention the difference in build – Magdalene was putting more weight on her than she had expected. "What's the problem with how things are right now, hmm?"
Magdalene sniffed. She took off her spectacles, and rubbed her red-rimmed eyes. "No one here wants to really take over the country," she mumbled. "Oh, they say they do, but they spend all their times gossiping and drinking wine and complaining about their husbands. And… and… and when I set this up, none of us wanted to be married off, but a l-l-lot of them seem to have n-nicer husbands than me! They… they say it's not so bad. J-J-Jacqueline s-seems to actually… to actually l-love her h-husband. And her children!"
"Um," Louise said, quite aware of her lack of experience in the fields of romance. "I suppose they're just trying to make the best of the situation." She was aware that her own parents had married for love and so were relatively liberal compared to most other nobles – while they had arranged a marriage for her, they had made quite clear that it was not until she was older and that they would break it off if she hadn't wanted it. She was lucky, apart from the whole bit where her fiancé had been a cheating treacherous weasel-dog who she was going to murder in cold blood for what he'd done. "But from what you said, your husband is a brute, so… um. I suppose that's not an option for you?"
"Y-you can say that again," Magdalene said softly. "I hate him so much. Especially when he's drunk. I never w-want to have his child. Ever! Ever ever ever! I c-can't let someone else turn out like him!" She locked eyes with Louise. "But… but I don't know if the potions failed or I forgot to take it one day or… or what, but I'm… I'm pregnant."
Louise really wasn't sure what to say here. 'Congratulations' seemed very tasteless. She glanced down at Magdalene's unfairly narrow waistline. "It must be recent. You're not showing." Inside, she was surprised to find just how intensely she was seething. She
liked Magdalene. They'd only met recently, but she was clever, cunning, and… and it made her blood boil at the way this woman who was normally so confident was reduced to this. She understood her, too. She knew how it felt so be so acutely lonely. She'd lived through it at school. Magdalene was stuck in a loveless marriage with few friends, and this cult seemed to be one of her few escapes. She wanted power and control because she had so little in her normal life.
The other woman nodded. "About two months," she said, swallowing. "I only found out recently. After… after what we did in Amstreldamme. H-he doesn't know yet. And… and I don't know what to do."
Narrowing her eyes, Louise's mind whirled. Something behind her eyes clicked. Carefully and staggering a little under the weight, she maneuvered Magdalene to a seat. Pallas made things harder by twining between her legs as she went to get another chair. "I really am sorry," she said softly, as she settled herself down.
"So am I. I never w-wanted this marriage. But… but my family needed it." She held her head in her hands. "I nearly ran away. I didn't. Too… too much of a coward. I wanted to run away and… and… and something. I didn't know what I'd do. Or who I'd go to." She sighed. "I… I don't know how much more of it I can take," she said in a quiet little voice.
Louise made a decision there that if her next plan didn't work, she'd invite Magdalene to her tower of misfit noble ladies. A cult priestess would fit right in. And – she checked her own feelings – yes, it wasn't because she was attracted to the woman at all. That was a relief. It was only Princess Henrietta who got her feeling in a fluster, probably because of her de la Vallière blood getting confused with what you did with captured princesses. "Well, a few questions, if I may?" she asked primly.
The other woman nodded.
"You said your husband likes to hunt, yes?"
"Yes."
"What does he like to hunt?"
"Anything that moves on two legs or four. Or six. Or eight."
That wasn't very useful in narrowing things down. "So… hypothetically, does he ever hunt wolves?"
"Oh yes," Magdalene said bitterly. "In fact, he'll go as far as to have them captured in Germania and transported to Amstreldamme so he has something to chase. There aren't any that live normally down on the flats."
"Wonderful," Louise said with a tight smile.
"Wonderful?"
"I believe I may be able to organise a hunting accident for him." This bit was very easy, Louise found. She just had to pretend that Magdalene's husband was Wardes.
"You're going to kill him?" Madgalene asked, looking up. Her eyes were fiercely gleaming, and her teeth were bared.
"No."
The other woman immediately slumped down.
"Be sensible," Louise said, leaning in. "You don't want him dead. Not until the child is born. Or at least until you're visibly and undeniably showing, as per canon law. Because as long as you 've had his child, or at the very least you can swear before two priests that it is his child you're pregnant with… well, then if he happens to succumb to his injuries, his estates will remain in your hands."
Magdalene glared back. "I don't want this," she growled. "I don't want to have his… his
spawn or… or… or have to put up with him any more!"
Louise thought fast. "What better revenge could you have than raising his child to be… uh, an actually intelligent human being?" she asked, making things up on the spot. "From what you say, he'd hate it more than anything else in the world if you went and raised his child to like reading and hate hunting."
"… that is true."
"And not just that. If he should oh-so-tragically die and the lands pass to you, you'll be a significant landowner," the overlady continued, honeyed words flowing like she had actually planned them. Gosh. This was remarkably easy. Shockingly so, really. "You won't be a widow who'll be kicked out penniless when the lands go back to the next heir. Because you'll be the mother of that heir."
"But… I… I don't…" The other woman sighed. "Void damn you," she muttered. "Stop making sense."
"Thank you. So I think I can arrange a hunting accident for him. It'd probably be safer once it's known you're pregnant," Louise said, recalling sections from Gnarl's books on political assassinations. Things were going better than expected! She wasn't stammering at all! "He'll be bed-ridden and probably almost certainly not dead, but we should consider the risk of my asset… um, hitting him too hard."
"That's something I can face with equi… good cheer," Magdalane said, sniffling. She seemed to be coming around. On the other hand, Louise was fairly sure that Pallas was glaring at her. She made a mental note to find her something to eat. "But I do have one question."
"What?"
"Why are you doing this for me?"
"Because I need a spymistress," Louise said. She hadn't been thinking of Magdalene this way before the meeting, but it just made sense. She really did need someone to keep track of what was happening in society. "She has to be intelligent, able to organise things, and know how to gather rumours. She has to be a woman of independent means whose presence at the most important parties in the country won't be questioned – so
both of us benefit if your husband is dead." She smiled. "I know you can outwit dark gods and cheat demons with contracts. Humans should be easier, right?"
Yes, that was quite a good little speech Louise thought smugly. No doubt Magdalene would be instantly impressed by her overwhelming logic and-
"Why else?" Magdalene paused. "Because… um. There are certain rumours about you and… well, you do go around in rather mannish armour."
Louise felt a blush coming as her treacherous face betrayed her. Stupid face. "Oh, for goodness sake! I wear lots of armour because I really, really don't want to get hurt! I don't think Karin of the Heavy Wind had to ever deal with these constant… constant implications and baseless rumours about her… her… her bedroom proclivities!"
"I was just asking if you were a Protestant," Magdalene said, looking hurt. "What did you think I was talking about?"
The ground did not break wide open and swallow Louise whole. Stupid useless ground. "I'm n-not Protestant," she stammered out, face on fire.
"… oh. I see. Hah. I see what you thought I was talking about." The other woman sniffed, and forced a smile. "Well, it's funny you should mention the Duchess de la Vallière in
that context. There are those rumours about what she got up to when she was younger with Princess Marianne. Apparently the Queen when she was younger was
very fond of her knight."
Louise froze like a tiny cute thing in the face of something large, fast-moving and heavy charging directly at her. She couldn't say a thing. She mustn't. She didn't want to hear this! She didn't! She didn't!
"Founder, I remember Eleanore de la Vallière used to explode like a bombard when someone brought some of those old tales up. So of course people did it whenever they wanted to get a rise out of her at school."
At this moment of time, Louise felt she could understand properly for the first time ever the precise reason her big sister was the unit of meanness. "I never heard those tales," she muttered into her hands. At some point she'd covered her hands with her face. She could feel her blush through her armoured glove. She was probably glowing.
"Well, they're old rumours. They died down when she got married and there wasn't any of the typical signs shown by someone who married into the de la Vallière family. You know, a fondness for torture, gathering a harem of slaves from the Far East, unleashing your undead hordes to devour the von Zerbsts… the usual."
Oh. Phew. Just a rumour. Louise breathed a sigh of relief and silently wished for her flaming cheeks to die down again. "They are quite a wicked family," she said, trying to sound neutral. "Though from what I have heard Eleanore is just mean."
"She is very mean," Magdalene agreed, adding dryly, "Roughly a quarter again as mean as I am, if you were to ask some of the others. But then again, I am related to that family. Apparently it shows."
Louise looked at the other woman, with her long straight black hair, her generous figure and the way the light seemed to fall so most of her save for her eyes and her reflective spectacles were in shadow.
"Gosh," she said. "I'd never have guessed."
…
"Quite the interesting decision, your dark imperiousness," Gnarl said happily, stroking his goatee. The torchlight flickered on the walls within Louise's workroom, as she idly flicked through a book on soul-alchemy. "I had been considering advising you to find yourself a spymaster, but it seems that you have entirely pre-empted me."
Louise swallowed. "Yes. Of course. I was thinking that I needed someone in more mainstream society, who might be able to notice things like Montespan's plot before it occurs and give me time to prepare," she said, feeling proud of the post-facto justification she had come up with on the way back.
Because of course that hadn't been her real reason. Quite a lot of it had been because she felt sorry for Magdalene – and liked her. But there had been another reason, too.
"But of course, you had another reason. Didn't you, your evilness?" Gnarl asked, once again showing his uncanny capacity to possibly read her mind. She really needed to be more worried about that.
"Yes," she said, with a fake sigh. "She knew something about Françoise-Athenais. Something very, very damning." She tapped her fingers on the table. "I now know about l'affaire des poisons –and what she got involved with. It might have started as some stupid young women messing around with love potions, but… well. They're all so stupid."
"Quite so," Gnarl said, stroking his goatee. "Love potions are so ineffective. And lust potions, which are considerably cheaper are rather unreliable. Hate potions are much more useful as a tool of applied politics."
Not for what they'd wanted them for, Louise thought sullenly. "I have used neither," she said coldly.
"Oh, really? Well, your wickedness, I do happen to know a supplier of hate…"
"That is not important, Gnarl!" Louise blazed. "What matters is that Athe is going to deny me of my revenge on Montespan! And I can't destroy the Council without annoying him, so I'll… I'll… I'll just have to destroy him too!" She brought her armoured gauntlet down on the table, sending papers scattering and waking her cat up from her nap.
"Mraaaa!" protested Pallas.
"The cat is quite right to object," Gnarl said, wiry hands tightening over his walking stick. "Your wickedness, declaring war on a dark god is not something one should do without considerable forethought."
Louise pulled a face.
"Your maliciousness," Gnarl observed, "several previous overlords have attempted to declare war on the Abyss. It usually ends in their death. Or at least in their begging-for-death-but-the-demons-won't-let-them-die."
The candles flickered ominously. Louise sighed. "You have a way with words," she said bitterly.
"Indeed, your darkness, I do. If you must remove Athe from your path, I would strongly advise that you not declare war on the entire Abyss nor try to overthrow a dark god." Gnarl tilted his head. "Well, not unless you have a way to devour his heart and take up his power. That's just normal Abyssal politics. No one will bat an eyelid at that."
"Tempting," Louise lied, "but I think I must pass. I don't want to be a dark god."
"Quite wrong, your wickedness. Several of your predecessors managed it and they always wound up murdered fairly shortly afterwards. It would not appear to be a wise career move."
The glow in Louise's eyes intensified. "I understand your point," she said tetchily. Brooding, she stared into the torches. It wasn't fair! How dare a dark god get in her way! Not only was… was he obstructing her, he was theologically unsound as well! How dare he be dreadful like that!
It wasn't even as if other demons liked dark gods and fallen angels, if you trusted Jessica's explanation. Hah.
Wait.
It wasn't even as if demons liked dark gods and fallen angels.
"Gnarl?"
"Yes, your wickedness?"
"Would demonkind find it offensive if I publically humiliated Athe?"
"They would probably find it hilarious," Gnarl said cheerfully. "I certainly would."
"So if I thwarted his plans and made sure all the other demons knew about it, it would not only stop him but also help me?"
"Most probably. You have a plan, your maliciousness?"
"I was in school. I know all about public humiliation." Louise sat back. "Gnarl. Please prepare reports on the political situation in Cathay, the aims of its ruler, and his major adversaries both internal and external. And in addition, I wish reports on the major subordinates of Athe and their personal proclivities." She folded her hands on her lap. "I will ruin the demon in Montespan's body. Then I will destroy it. Then I will destroy Montespan."
"I like the sound of this. It sounds excessively malevolent," the minion said, chuckling. "I will get to it, my lady."
"Oh, and Gnarl?" Louise said before he left. "Send for Cattleya, would you? She has an appointment with my spymistress' husband."
…
