War Of Men

Epilogue

Nancy had left at sunset, in time for prayers. Maxim knew that her sisters at the order knew her supposed spiritual consultation was a ruse. He'd told her many a time she didn't need to rush back. She always did.

After a grand dinner with plenty to drink, the Chèr headed to the library to fetch a book for the journey back to the palace. He'd much rather have stayed at the estate. What was the point of having an estate if you were forced to be in the palace all the time? The Eseterrians were experienced enough to fare well without him and there were enough clergymen in the palace's proximity. He supposed that was the price of the job. Sometimes he longed to step down, but he couldn't bare to see the rivals he'd fought against for the position succeed him. No-one would listen to his request for his son to follow in his steps, unless he was dead. Even then, it was unlikely.

A couple of footsteps sounded. He turned away to see Tiresias, his son. 'Back already?'

'Yes.' His voice was more assertive than usual. 'How is Nancy?'

Maxim was amused by the accusation in his voice. 'You know, you wouldn't exist if it weren't for a similar situation.'

'How was dinner?'

'Tolerable.'

He found the book he wanted and pulled it out. As he did, he felt a jolt through his abdomen. He crashed to the ground, clutching his stomach. His eyesight blurred and his throat burned. Rough hands slid under his armpits and hoisted him onto the reading chair. When his vision somewhat cleared, he saw brown eyes.

'I'm sorry you didn't find it more agreeable.' A dark smile played Tiresias' lips.

'You're not my son,' realised Maxim. In his drunk state, he hadn't noticed the change in eye colour sooner. How couldn't he have failed to recognise the change in his own son?'

'I suppose not,' said whatever dark creature this was. 'But I'm sure he didn't mind me poisoning your food.'

Maxim panicked. Had he been a bad father? He'd never been especially generous and had often had affairs right in front of his son. He'd made him learn the cello, all the myths and all the other skills he might need at court. Potentially it could have been seen as harsh, but he'd been preparing Tiresias for his future. Surely he had understood this.

'You're a demon. You know nothing. Hel-' Maxim tried to call, but Tiresias pressed his mouth shut.

'I wouldn't do that if you value your country,' he taunted. 'Knowing your selfish tendencies, your life would have been a better wager, but I guess it's too late for that.'

Maxim could feel his organs failing. He'd never suffered such agony before. His vision blurred again. He felt Tiresias force his mouth open and force a liquid in. Maxim tried to resist, but his body automatically swallowed.

'Goodnight, father.'

His body grew limp and the pain began to subside. The numbness spread throughout his entire body and Maxim's brain. His eyelids began to droop and his head lolled to one side.

The last thing he saw were dark, greedy eyes.