Snakes in our blood.

He drew the bath himself. Steam drifted up all around him as he stepped in, sliding down the porcelain to submerge his body. Candlelight flickered off the water, and the bloody stains Larkin left on the sides of the tub reflected on the surface like black snakes. With his eyes closed, Larkin did reflecting of his own while the baby’s blood washed away from his skin.

He had known it was going to happen; Stryphus would come. It tickled him deep in his chest, where the wound went clean through. He had had a feeling that the night would not be an ordinary one. The invocation had worked as he had known it would, if not he would never have given the priest his time. Larkin had known all along. In his mouth was still the taste of infant’s blood and he put his finger on his lips, touching the crusted black substance there. And he mightily believed it all. There was no trick in it. He was no fool. No man could scam The Shrike.

Though the entire day he had tried to convince himself that it was nonsense. His strong disbelief in such things nagged at him, yet his very life was proof that he was wrong. Which bit at him, ever so slightly, that he had never believed. Now he did. He believed very well. In his mind, the liquid wings of a dragon beat. Stryphus, the muscle of all Gods, had given him a very precious thing. No one would stop him now. Not without facing the wrath of his God. Stryphus.

No one.

The first light rose and Larkin was roused by the sounds of servants in his chambers, in the main rooms. He stepped out of the bloody water, now cold, which clung to his skin still and stained him red. It seemed more than it had been. He touched his chest. Perhaps he had bled into the water some of his own. Donning only a robe, he left the bath chamber and went to the comfort of the fireplace, where fresh pine logs burned and filled the room with that sweet smell.

The nervousness of the servants he saw, but it was little to him than it would be under other circumstances. A woman tried to approach him and speak to him of the girl Stelon, but with an annoyed flick of his wrist, she shut her mouth with a snap. Her eyes never lifted to look upon him. Not a single servant dared a glance, even at his back.

“Fetch Joanithyn,” Larkin said, “my neck pains me.”

Joanithyn’s arrival was announced by the jingle and jangle of jewelry. He wore gold and silver from head to toe and the only part of him that was not adorned with jewels were his hands. These were soft, kept smooth as a baby’s downy head by the finest of oils, and reserved only for Larkin. He spread them over the center of Larkin’s back, fingers pressing and smoothing down the muscles up to the neck as the man laid on his bed. Aurora had come to speak with him and sat nearby on a cushioned chair, sipping something that smelled of mint.

With a pillow beneath him, Larkin picked at the purple meat of a round fruit and listened as Aurora spoke.

“I have councils being prepared. There was some trouble with Eestur, but it was taken care of. They are good men, sire, loyal to the core. With the threat of our friend Grub, I’m sure they will have little courage to defy you. Once we climb this mountain, the rest is an easy downward march.” She cleared her throat, “I had to issue an order of execution on Bakur Tilon.”

“Pity,” Larkin murmured, “And his family?”

“Taken care of.” Aurora took a sip from her glass, peering over the rim at Larkin. Joanithyn was engrossed with easing the pain in Larkin’s neck and back, carefully avoiding the gape of Larkin’s undressed wound. Lowering the glass, Aurora took a deep breath and said, “I couldn’t help but notice the movement of troops. They know, sire, everyone knows. Fear has been planted deeply in their hearts. The soldiers, they move in the streets as if waiting. I have seen them in the castle. Your army. These men have caused quite a disruption in our organized chaos. A bird told me the elven villages have been abandoned.”

There was a loud sucking noise as Larkin pulled the fruit away from his mouth, having taken a large chunk of it out, revealing a bright red center of tiny black seeds. He chewed and licked his lips, examining the inside of this delicious, sweet thing, “They were a ball and chain on our economy. May they die in the black forest. The desert. On the seas. Where ever it is they think will give them escape. Fit for little more than grunt work.”

“The insurgents have no distinguishing marks, my lord. They will be harder to get rid of. The usage of brands they’ve given up. I know what step number two is, do not leave me in the dark. I see it on your face. All of this, they are at the heart of it.”

“Aurora, you know otherwise; it is simply my love for the people that drives me.” Larkin’s mouth turned up into a smile, “I saw our empire falling. I saw a dead man who stood as our king. I saw the ruin and the pollution of our people and I alone have the power to make our world right. My confidant , my friend,” Larkin held his hand out for Aurora’s and she placed her fingers in it, eyebrows knitted together, “The rebels weaken us. We must destroy them, take no chances. I will fall on them like fire and plague.”

He kissed the back of her hand, saying to it, “Doubt means death.”

She nodded, pulling her hand away, “I will return to my work, sire.”