Potenkiah, the deathgiver

Chapter 1.3

The racket outside died down deep into the night, and a soft voice rang in the next room.

“You should not have called me, Master,” Nicah’s uncle spoke into his ProCom. He was using the earbud to keep the long distance call private. “The meeting will proceed as planned. Concerning the other issue, you have no cause to worry, everything points to a clear victory, without a doubt I will be elected for the position. Furthermore, the coincidence in dates could not be more timely. Once I have moved into the palace…”

He stopped so he could listen to the speaker. He glanced at the door to make sure it was closed. He did not have to worry about protecting the speaker’s identity, as he had the habit of deactivating the device’s image feed. Besides, by using the earbud, only he could hear his voice.

The call was from the leader of the Junpaih Order, which was highly unusual. They had a zero contact policy between members, unless they were at a secret meeting. If the leader had contacted him, it wasn’t to wish him good luck or to congratulate him; something urgent or extremely serious had happened.

Or he had already heard that the King and Queen were planning on hiding the Princess’ identity after a failed murder attempt.

“News fly, Treshreem,” he heard him say. A powerful, deep whisper with barely contained anger, like a demon’s, “and this is on you…”

Nicah’s uncle swallowed hard, and removed his jacket’s uncomfortable collar. Treshreem was not his name, but his alias within the Order.

“A wild card, my Lord,” he replied, and lowered his voice. The house was so quiet that he feared someone might be listening. “Yes, it was one of the Queen’s handmaids. Our man was preparing her for the final mission, but she went forward with it before the time was right and could not carry it to term; she disappeared without a trace.”

“A handmaid!” roared the voice in his ear. Treshreem’s fingers drummed the surface of the thick leather bound desk, while he waited for his leader at the other end of the line to stop issuing insults, threats and warnings along the lines of, “How could you trust a handmaid if you knew that…!” and a long list of expletives. Then came the unavoidable question: have you cleaned up yet?

“It has been impossible, Master,” he admitted, wondering which part of ‘disappeared without a trace’ had not been clear. At that moment he was thankful that the speaker could not see him either, for his face was flushed and tiny beads of sweat glittered on his forehead. “If she was caught in the attempt, she must be dead already.”

It was probable, but not certain. Not even his inside man had discovered her whereabouts.

While he listened to another round of cursing and demands from the Order’s supreme leader, Nicah’s uncle wondered what could have happened to make the handmaid want to act on her own. The announcement that the King and Queen would keep her identity secret seriously meddled with their plans.

“I don’t think so, my Lord,” he told the device, “they cannot hide the girl forever. She is the heir to the throne, sooner or later…”

“This is the fulfillment of the Prophecy, and we both know what it means.”

For a moment, fear clouded Treshreem’s eyes. He paced the room with a hand on the earbud, and the other hand caressing the tattoo on the back of his neck.

“I understand, Master. The prophecy will never be fulfilled, I will see to that myself.” He punched the desk with such strength that the miniature statue of Erol the Wise was upturned. As he returned it to its original position, he added, “Fear not, I will leave no trace. For our Junpaih Order.”

An air current made his hair rise, he turned around suddenly and saw he was not alone.

***

Elazar Mentel looked into his son Nicah’s room to check he had gone to bed, and then walked to his guest’s, his half brother, before being criticized for being a bad host. They had barely seen each other in between travels and troubles, inevitable due to his job in regional politics; it was unforgivable if he took the latest development into consideration: he had finally managed to sneak him into the very Assembly of Representatives, or almost, it all depended on the results of the next election. The media did not know he was staying under his roof to escape them, while he waited for the majority vote to come through.

The light was on. He opened the door without knocking.

“Still awake, brother? Nervous about the elec-?”

Elazar froze when, out of reflex, his guest let go of his ProCom and pulled out a weapon.

“Feathers!” He extended both arms in front of him in a defensive gesture, in surrender.

“You shouldn’t have, Elazar, you shouldn’t have come in without calling.”

“Goddess! Broth…”

Elazar fell from one certain shot, dead. He made no noise, except for the thud of his unmoving body hitting the carpet.

A buzz, a slight warming up of the surrounding area and a weak scent of ozone were the only signs that a murder had just happened there.

“It is a shame. Now you will force me to kill your dear wife before she asks questions.” He made a sympathetic gesture as he turned the body with the tip of his shoe. “Although, to tell you the truth, you made things easier, dear Ela. I was thinking about taking little Nicah and raising him as mine. If you knew the plans I have for him…”

He stole the ring Elazar wore on his finger, before rigor mortis prevented it. He would need it. On second thought, he would need the whole hand… and some hair, and clothes. In the dead man’s blazer, he found the plasma plate that he had been given as passkey for the luggage he had checked-in that very day.

“Again, you made things easier, Ela,” he mumbled, while he looked for the contact number of one of his mercenaries. There was no time to lose. Unfortunately for other passengers that might go on board, a ship was about to have an accident.

Next, he walked to his nephew’s room and paused to contemplate his peaceful sleep.

“It seems mommy and daddy left at the last minute, Nicah,” he told him, “and you and I will have to save the world.”