Plague of Angels

  The next morning Alberic’s and Theophylact’s troops moved on the papal palace, and one week later, a message was sent to Sergius, pleading for him to come in and rescue the papacy from destruction.

  Marozia knelt before Pope Sergius III, resplendent in his white robes. Behind her, dressed like a servant, Ishtar smiled. The girl had started filling out nicely. Though she was only fourteen, her breasts and hips had both rounded, and judging from how Sergius’s eyes followed them, Marozia was having exactly the effect that Ishtar had wanted her to.

  “My dear,” Sergius was saying, “Of course I have time for you.”

  “I thank you,” said Marozia, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “My mother has said so many kind things about you that I wanted to see you again.” She let her eyes wander down the front of his robe, exactly as Ishtar had taught her. “And ask if you would be willing to bless me, as you do her.”

  “I am flattered,” said Sergius, his eyes drifting to Marozia’s cleavage. “But your mother and I have a special and personal relationship, based on her faith. I could not betray it.”

  “I would never ask you to do that,” said Marozia, her eyes wide with surprise. “I would never dream of taking away my mother’s most precious spiritual advisor. I would only…” she stopped and bit her lip, just as Ishtar had told her to do.

  “Yes, my child?” asked the pope. “What would you do?”

  “I would only ask that you provide me with your guidance too. For I am but a simple virgin. And am in much need of a…” she hesitated, looked away, then looked into Sergius’s eyes. “A firm… guiding… hand. To ensure I go in the right direction.”

  A fire kindled in Sergius’s groin. “My dear girl. I will be more than happy to… guide you forward.”

  Ishtar bowed her head and smiled to herself.

  Nyx, wearing her true form, stepped into the dungeon room where Leo and Christopher were chained across the room from one another. They had been put with their arms up on the wall and their legs before them, so they were forced to sit in their own filth and could not escape the attentions of the rats, who knew when a man was helpless and would come biting. Both, to Nyx’s surprise, still had their eyes.

  The men stared in horror at the black-clad, sword – and whip-holding woman with the red snake eyes and the horned crown. Nyx looked down at Leo, and smiled at him. “I am sorry, Pope Leo,” she said. “You were unfortunately in the wrong place at the wrong time. As popes go, you weren’t actually that bad.” She looked over at Christopher, and the smile became a snarl, her razor-sharp teeth bared. Christopher shrieked and struggled desperately. “If it makes you feel better, Leo, I do want you to know that this one was not a good man, and I am going to torture him for days before I finally kill him.” The end of her whip flipped out, the hellfire burning into Leo’s flesh even as the cord wrapped tight around his neck. “Sorry it can’t be faster,” she said, “but I do believe strangling is traditional, here.”

  Nyx pulled the whip tight enough to crush his larynx and watched him writhe and spasm to death. His soul, when it left, rose steadily up. “Well, what do you know?” she said, watching it go up. “He was a good man. No wonder he was displaced.”

  Nyx turned her gaze back on Christopher, and the man’s bowels voided as he read her expression. “You, on the other hand, are not a good man,” she said. “Not at all. And while I appreciate that you deposed Leo for me, I want to know who, exactly, gave you the idea that Theodora’s daughter was to be your reward.”

  “The Virgin!” Christopher screamed. “The Holy Virgin Mary came to me in a vision and told me it was to be! She was to be the mother of popes!”

  Nyx knelt down in front of him and impaled him through the chin with a single talon. He cried out and tried to pull away, but she hooked her finger and dragged the talon forward, ripping through his flesh until it lodged against the bone in his jaw. “You are going to tell me exactly what you saw, exactly what she said, and exactly what happened, down to the number of leaves on the trees and the way the wind blew,” she said. “And if you are very, very fortunate, you will do it well enough that you will convince me to let you die.”

  It was three days before she was satisfied with his answers.

  “Are you certain?” demanded Theodora, as Nyx, disguised as one of Marozia’s maidservants, followed her mistress through the corridors of the papal palace.

  “I am, mistress,” said Nyx. “I am sorry.”

  Theodora slapped her face. “You’ll be even more sorry when I’m done with you, girl. How could you let this go on?”

  “Please, mistress!” Nyx begged, acting as the girl servant most certainly would, had Nyx not sent her and her family out of the city with a sum of gold and orders never to return on pain of her Angelic displeasure.

  “Shut up, slut!” She grabbed Nyx’s ear. “You’ll be whipped in the morning, you hear? And tonight you will do exactly what I say, when I say it, or I’ll have you given to my husband’s soldiers for a plaything. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, mistress,” groveled Nyx. As long as you put paid to this bastard on the way.

  They reached the door of the papal bedchambers. The guards were absent because Nyx had already removed them and left their unconscious, wine-soaked bodies where they would be found by their captain the next morning.

  And that will teach them to be procurers.

  Theodora stopped outside the chamber door, listening. Inside they could here Marozia crying out in what sounded like pleasure but was, to Nyx’s very knowledgeable ears, disguised pain. Theodora drew herself up, her back straight as the handle on a pole-axe, her face stony with rage. Her hands grabbed each of the door handles, and she took a large breath.

  And as Nyx watched, Theodora’s face changed. She pushed the rage down deep beneath the surface, and pasted a wide and happy smile on her face. Then threw the door wide.

  Marozia was face down on the bed, crying out as Sergius moved behind her. Theodora stopped in the doorway for the briefest of moments, then strode in, crying, “Your Holiness! Had I but known!”

  Sergius froze, and in that moment, Theodora undid her own dress and let it fall to her feet. Her body was a ripe version of Marozia’s, softer, fleshier and carrying the marks of childbearing. “I had always intended this to be a family affair,” she said, smiling at the pope. “And I am so pleased to see my daughter takes the same enjoyment in such practices as I do.”

  Sergius stared at her, confused. Theodora took the moment to grab Nyx’s arm and pull her forward. “Once you have finished with my daughter, may I suggest this one? She is a virgin in all ways, and has a most pleasing little backside.” She smiled at Nyx, and Nyx could see the rage in her eyes. “Get naked and on the bed, girl. And face down, if you please.”

  Nyx, stunned at Theodora’s behavior, and trapped in her own disguise, did as she was told. And as she lay face down on the bed, her bare shoulders touching Marozia’s, the girl grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight. “You’re not Ghita, are you?” she whispered.

  Nyx didn’t answer.

  “You’re not,” said the girl. “I know you’re not. I was told you would come. And I was told to give you a message.”

  “What message?” Nyx whispered back as she felt the pope running his hand over her.

  “Your Tribunal is right,” said Marozia, repeating what Ishtar had told her to say. “Look upon this room and know that your Tribunal was right.”

  Ishtar was in a hidden arena, fighting in the ring. She had chosen the form of a slim young man who fought only with a dagger. She had had killed a dozen more experienced-looking opponents, and won a large pile of gold which she used to buy drinks from the crowd. The men and women watching screamed at her victories, and were joyously shouting for blood as Ishtar used her dagger to carve through the defenses of a much larger man with a sword and armor. She had just brought him to his knees, his sword arm broken and useless, his shield dragging in the dirt. She raised the dagger to give him the coup
de grace when Nyx, in full battle armor with weapons in hand and wings spread wide, came smashing in through the roof and landed, full force on Ishtar’s head. The force of the impact crushed her spine, her pelvis and both her legs with the force of impact and drove the other Angel into the sand of the arena floor.

  Nyx, cut the head off Ishtar’s opponent with a single swipe and glared balefully at the crowd. “Run.”

  The spectators clawed and fought and trampled one another to escape of the arena. Nyx ignored them. Beneath her feet, Ishtar squirmed in pain.

  “You betrayed me, bitch,” said Nyx.

  Ishtar made a gagging noise, and Nyx stepped off of her head. Ishtar’s body changed, becoming her that of her true self, though it was still broken in a dozen places. Nyx watched as Ishtar’s jaw reshaped itself enough that Ishtar could gasp out. “I didn’t. I did what had to be done.”

  “Theodora was our vessel. Not her daughter.”

  “Her daughter will do better!” moaned Ishtar. “She will AAAAAAHHH!!!”

  Nyx enjoyed watching Ishtar’s agony as the Angel’s spine forcibly fixed itself. She waited for Ishtar to stop screaming. “I told you,” said Nyx, “to leave the innocent alone.”

  “She’s not innocent,” lied Ishtar. “She never was. She took to fucking like a whore working for her next meal. She’s had four other men do her the same way Sergius was when you caught them together.” Ishtar managed a grin, despite her face still being half-ruined. “Pity none of their cocks were as big as his. She might have liked it better.”

  “Open your mind to me,” ordered Nyx.

  “No!” Ishtar crawled backwards. “You don’t trust me.”

  “No,” said Nyx. “I don’t.” She started walking forward, her sword swinging back and forth. “You lied to me. You betrayed me. And the only reason I’m not killing you is because doing that would allow another Angel to get through.”

  “How have I betrayed you?” Ishtar demanded. “Sergius is in power!”

  “Sergius is supposed to be under the control of Theodora, not subject to the whims of a fourteen-year-old girl!”

  “You mean he’s supposed to be under your control,” said Ishtar. “Not mine.”

  “Yes,” said Nyx, and the tip of her blade rested against Ishtar’s stomach. “That is exactly what I mean.”

  Ishtar froze in place, and her eyes drilled into Nyx’s. “Well, as long as you control the mother, and I control the daughter, that shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

  The tip of Nyx’s blade broke Ishtar’s skin, and Ishtar gasped with the pain. “Missing the point, Ishtar.”

  “I’m not missing the point!” screamed Ishtar. “For eight hundred years I’ve been following you and doing exactly what you wanted and it hasn’t worked! So I’m trying something different. FUCK!”

  The last was from Nyx’s blade sinking an inch into Ishtar’s belly. “I told you to leave the innocent alone.”

  “You told me not to kill the children!” Ishtar screamed. “Well, I didn’t, did I? I just showed one how she could use her body to get what she wanted.”

  “Making her an adulterer and sending her to Hell.”

  “It was her choice! AAAHH!”

  Nyx’s blade had sunk in another inch. “She was an innocent before she met you.”

  “For fuck’s sake, there are no innocent!” screamed Ishtar. “These humans are born vicious little animals and they stay that way! Look at them for fuck’s sake! See them like Tribunal saw them!”

  The familiar rush of love, hatred and need filled Nyx’s body. She shoved her blade in two inches further. “Don’t use his name against me!”

  “I’m not, for fuck’s sake! I’m not!” Ishtar’s voice became pleading. “Haven’t you seen them? Haven’t you looked at them? Have they changed in a thousand years? Have they? Tribunal judged them wanting! Why won’t you?”

  “I don’t know!” screamed Nyx back. She ripped her sword out of the other Angel’s guts and Ishtar went sprawling on the sands. “I don’t know why I can’t abandon them.”

  “Well, figure it out,” gasped Ishtar. “Because we’re supposed to be destroying them.”

  “No, we’re supposed to be bringing Tribunal back.”

  “And what will he do when he gets here?” demanded Ishtar. She pushed herself to her feet, moaning from the pain it caused her. “Walk with me. Look at them with me, and when you look at them, ask what your Tribunal would say about them.”

  “I know what he’d say.”

  “Then act on it!” Ishtar tried to reach out a hand, but her spine wasn’t fully healed, yet. “Earth is destroying you, my Queen. It’s making you weak and clouding your judgement. Walk with me, look on these humans and despair the way Tribunal did. Then you’ll be able to act clearly.”

  Nyx stepped back, Tribunal’s rage and hatred had filled her again, making Ishtar’s words make sense. “Lead me,” she said. “But you are a long way from being forgiven.”

  For the next three days and nights Ishtar led her through Rome, visiting brothels and prisons, private dungeons and courtrooms, children’s bedrooms and torture chambers, holy monasteries and unholy temples. Always they stayed hidden from view, letting people behave as they would. Everywhere, Nyx saw humanity behaving at its worst. She saw what people did to their children, and what the children themselves were doing to others. She adults torturing and mutilating one another, stealing each other’s belongings, swindling each other and lying. Everywhere they went, Ishtar would point out and say, “This is what Tribunal was seeing! That is why he hates them!”

  And every time Ishtar said his name, Nyx would feel Tribunal’s memory rise up in her head, feel his anger and rage and helplessness at the life he was forced to lead and the horrifying actions of all those around him. And every time Nyx would feel her own hatred for the human race growing.

  And yet…

  She remembered those who prayed in her name for their children or their wives or lovers. She remembered those who cared for one another, and helped the old and infirm, rather than leaving them to die. She remembered how little they had and how some of them were still good.

  “Look here!” hissed Ishtar, pointing at two toddlers. One had just taken away the toy from another, and the first was wailing. The second toddler hit the first and walked away. And when the first toddler ran crying to its mother, it got slapped and told to be silent.

  “How can you say these things have decency, when they are born full of hatred and greed?” Ishtar demanded. “Tribunal saw it, I see it. Why aren’t you seeing it?”

  And in that moment, Nyx did see it. And even so….

  Why can’t I let them go? Nyx demanded herself. They are only human! Why can’t I just let them die so we can have Paradise?

  Nyx spread her wings and flew, leaving Ishtar grinning after her, and a crowd of mortals staring in surprise.

  905 A.D.

  Nyx sat naked on the top of Monte Bianco, her wings wrapped loosely around her body. The burning cold touch of the snow against her flesh was like a light brush of hellfire. Her body was coated in frost, and only the strong winds had kept the snow from covering her over. Her eyes stared, unblinking, at the sun rising before her.

  There was a flap of wings, a rush of snow, and Persephone landed beside her. She wore the uniform of an Arab soldier, the back of it ripped open by her wings. She walked in a slow, careful circle around Nyx, keeping well out of sword-reach. “My Queen?”

  Nyx stayed, unmoving and unblinking, as Persephone crouched down before her.

  “My Queen,” Persephone repeated. “You didn’t meet at our rendezvous last year.” She knelt in the snow beside Nyx. “You didn’t answer when I called you. I couldn’t even feel your presence on the world.” Nyx didn’t move. Persephone slipped closer. “My lady?”

  “Tribunal was right,” said Nyx.

  Persephone leaned back, then sat down. “I thought that was what this was all about.”

  “I kept going back and forth,”
said Nyx, still not moving. “I kept thinking that they weren’t all bad, these humans. That some of them were good, some were decent. That some were trying to raise their children to be more than what they themselves are.”

  “Some are,” said Persephone.

  “No, they’re not,” said Nyx. “They’re bettering themselves, not their race. They’re making themselves worse than what they are so they can have more.” She stared into the sun. “Did you know Theodora was fucking the pope?”

  “Yes,” said Persephone. “Ishtar told me.”

  “Did she tell you that she fucks him with her daughter at her side? That they take turns serving his depravities?”

  “She did.”

  “She finds out her daughter is being ass-fucked by her lover and instead of being enraged, joins them. What sort of mother is that?”

  Persephone shrugged but didn’t answer.

  “How can they act this way?” demanded Nyx. “How can they be this way, knowing their souls are going to Hell for it? I’ve tortured souls until they were nothing but Hell-stone for far less than that! Then pulled them back out and tortured them again!”

  Persephone shrugged. “Most of them don’t believe in Hell. Or Heaven. God’s been gone so long from this world that they don’t feel his presence any more.”

  “The morning after I revealed Marozia’s affair to Theodora, I chased down Ishtar. I was planning to torture her for a month and instead, she convinced me to walk with her to see how depraved everyone was. And I did, and they were, and I still couldn’t find it in me to condemn them all!”

  “Some of them are…”

  “None of them are!” screamed Nyx. “But even so, I had to keep looking for the good in them. I had to weigh each one’s choices before I could condemn them, and then, I could only condemn them individually!”

  “Some of them are worth saving,” ventured Persephone.

  “Not enough of them!” snarled Nyx. “And I still couldn’t condemn them!” Nyx’s body shook with rage, and when she spoke again her voice was filled with disgust. “So I flew here. I tried to understand why. I sat in the fucking snow for a year to understand why. I fucking prayed, Persephone! I actually sat down and prayed, just to see if I could hear Him, just to see if he could hear me so I could tell Him what disgusting, horrible things these people are!”