Plague of Angels (22 page)

“We aren’t going to get anything if we don’t wait,” Nyx said heatedly. “We will take Jerusalem, and we will kill all the Christians there. When the time is right.”

“Well, most of them are gone already,” sniped Ishtar. “The Islamic people have it, remember?”

“The Islamic people are allowing the Christians to stay,” said Persephone in a mild tone. “Something about them being People of the Book?”

“No idea,” said Nyx. “But we need them out of there. Suggestions?”

“Raise an army and wipe them out?” suggested Ishtar.

“Can’t lose the people,” said Nyx. “Not yet.”

“Get the Christians to attack them?”

“Then it’s filled with Christians again,” said Persephone. “Tribunal wanted Jerusalem sacked, didn’t He?”

Tribunal’s name reverberated through her spirit again, making her shake. Ishtar noticed the change in Nyx, and told herself to remember it. When the strength of Him was gone from Nyx, it left a very strange, very specific idea in its wake. “He did,” said Nyx. “We need to corrupt them. The Christians who will retake Jerusalem.”

“They’re already pretty corrupt,” said Ishtar. “Some of those Christian priests sleep around more than my temple prostitutes used to do.”

“And the top of the Catholic Church is slowly becoming corrupt,” said Persephone. “Too much money and power.”

“Then we’ll corrupt it further,” said Nyx. “When that’s done, we’ll have the pope send an army of soldiers to take Jerusalem. And as they attempt that feat, we will be there to convert them from Christianity and make them mine.”

“They won’t do it,” said Persephone. “They won’t give up their religion just because you ask them to.”

“They will if they’re pushed far enough,” said Ishtar. “Humans will do whatever is most expedient to save their lives. And if that means a mass conversion from Christianity, they will do it.”

“You think?” asked Persephone.

“They will,” said Nyx. “In two hundred years, I want to be in Jerusalem, marching at the head of an army that screams my name as they slaughter.” Inside her head, she could practically hear Tribunal’s voice, cheering her on. “Jerusalem will be ours, and then, we will gain Paradise!”

Chapter 8

900 A.D. – Rome

They had taken
rooms in a brothel, in part because it was the only place where they could gather together as women without raising eyebrows, and in part because it was the single most important brothel in Rome. It was not a poor place, nor was it a small place. It was an old palace, converted just for the purpose, and it catered only to the Roman elite and those they did business with.

Nyx, Persephone and Ishtar, appearing as proper matrons, arrived at the back entrance, rather than the front. They had some polite negotiations with first the cook, then the owner himself, before being given the most lavish of the dozen elite suites for their private and exclusive use. The fact that they paid for them in gold helped immensely. They arranged themselves on low, silken couches and sipped the city’s best wine from two-handled pottery cups, glazed mint green. Eggs, fruit, oysters, roasted songbirds, bread, cakes and nuts were spread before them.

“Where do we stand?” asked Nyx.

“The papacy is corrupt through and through,” said Persephone. “If they were my priests I’d execute them on the spot.”

“Can we go near them?” asked Nyx. “Or are they protected by God?”

“I kissed Benedict V’s ring,” said Persephone. “I gave blow-jobs to three of his cardinals and spanked two others until their asses bled. They’re not protected.”

“Good,” said Nyx, spearing a tiny bird with a silver fork.

“There’s four noble families all fighting for control of the papacy,” said Ishtar. “With the leadership of the church comes a great deal of money and power. Some of them want to rebuild the empire, some just want to take it for everything it’s worth.”

“That should make everything else easier,” said Nyx.

“Not really,” said Persephone. “Your plan was to send an army to Jerusalem. These people don’t trust each other enough to send a set of their least-liked cousins on a walk in the park together.”

“That has to change,” said Nyx. “Who is the current pope?”

“Benedict IV,” said Persephone. “Fairly quiet, keeps giving stuff to his family.”

“Then we need someone better,” said Nyx. “Someone who can unite the Christians and be corrupted to serve us at the same time.”

“I’ll find someone,” said Ishtar.

“Not without supervision,” said Nyx. “What you did with the Goths was too much.”

“This from the Queen of Hell,” Ishtar sneered, her eyes narrowing.

“I punish those who deserve it,” growled Nyx, releasing a hint of her power. “You slaughtered innocents.”

“It worked,” said Ishtar. “And it’s not like your precious
Tribunal
isn’t going to wipe them all out anyway, once He comes back to earth.”

The mention of Tribunal’s name brought a rush of warmth to Nyx, followed immediately by a near-overwhelming feeling of urgency and purpose. They
must
move quickly. They
must
turn the tides against the Christians and seize Jerusalem, at any cost.

Not at any cost,
Nyx told herself.
The innocent have done nothing.

They are human!
Tribunal’s voice rose up inside her, nothing more than a memory but nearly overwhelming in its power.
They are a scourge on the Earth and should be wiped out!

The power of His voice dominated her brain, and for a moment she knew, deep in her heart, that what He was saying was true, that the young were just as much to blame as the old, and that snuffing out their lives would be no better or worse than snuffing out their parents.

No!
She shoved Tribunal’s voice back in her mind.
The innocent have done nothing to deserve this!

Aloud, she snarled. “Not the children! Got it?”

“All right, for fuck’s sake!” Ishtar said, throwing up her hands in mock-surrender. “I’ll try not to kill too many of them!”

“Do better than that.”

“I’m a goddess,” said Ishtar, taking a deep draught of wine. “I’ll do as I please.”

“You’re mine,” growled Nyx. “And you’ll do as I tell you.”

Ishtar stared back at Nyx, defiance on her face. Nyx met her glare for glare, and in Ishtar’s mind said,
“I am the Queen of Hell, Ishtar. Do you need a reminder as to why?”

“Fine,” said Ishtar. She muttered something else in Babylonian that was both geometrically and anatomically impossible. Nyx pretended not to hear. Ishtar grabbed a boiled ostrich egg and bit it in two.

“Can I go back to the East?” asked Persephone. “The Byzantines are gaining power again. It’s annoying. I’ve just about convinced the Arabs to start pirating their coasts again. With luck, we can keep them too busy to think about moving toward Jerusalem.”

“How much damage can you do them?” asked Nyx

Persephone shrugged. “I don’t know. They’ve been expanding lately, but I think I can help hold them back a bit.”

“Just keep them out of Jerusalem. The Western church is so corrupt right now it will be easy to direct them as we want. The Eastern church is still fairly pure in their beliefs and have the strength to keep their faith solid, which is not what we want.”

“I will,” said Persephone. “What about the Islamics?”

Ishtar laughed. “What about them?”

“They besieged Constantinople in 717,” said Persephone. “Didn’t get it, but they came close, and they’re growing stronger.”

“Anything that messes up the Christians is good,” said Nyx. “Can you keep them moving in the right direction?”

Persephone grinned. “I can.”

“Good. I need to work on the Rus and the Mongols some more if they’re going to invade in two hundred years.”

“Who are the Mongols?” asked Ishtar.

“Eastern tribe. Excellent horsemen, great archers, good for the second wave of attacks on the Christians. Afraid of nothing, eager for conquest. They should be ready to start moving west in two hundred years or so. I’ll be back in a few years.” She smiled at her angels and ate a dainty honey cake. “Spread chaos while I’m gone.”

“Yes, Nyx!” the other two Angels chorused.

903 A.D.

In the villa of Theophylact I, Count of Tusculum, Nyx and Ishtar sat across from Theophylact’s wife, Theodora, and contemplated her. She was not a tall woman, but was exceedingly pleasant of feature, with lovely brown eyes and equally lovely hair, a good-sized, firm bust, and a ripe body that had already delivered the Count two equally beautiful daughters without any noticeable affect on its shape. She also had a mind that surpassed her husband’s in all things. He deferred to her in all matters of state, and hers was the voice that had made him. She already had most of the Roman nobility eating out of her fingers, and her eyes were firmly set upon a much larger prize.

“The problem,” said Theodora, “Is that I do not know you.”

“This is true,” said Nyx. “But you do know that Pope Benedict was not one of your choosing.”

“I do,” said Theodora. She looked over the other women again. Nyx had chosen to appear as a Roman matron, the same age as Theodora. Ishtar had taken a younger body, and had pointedly made it more attractive than Nyx’s disguise. Theodora shook her head, trying to clear her mind. “Which family did you say you came from?”

“We didn’t,” said Nyx. “We told your servants to let us in and they did. We told you that you wanted to see us, and you did.”

Theodora frowned. “I would not do that.”

“Not of your own free will,” agreed Nyx. “And yet, here we are.”

Theodora rose to her feet. “You two will leave at once. I’ll summon a servant to guide you out.”

“I think not.”
The command in Nyx’s voice stopped the other woman in her tracks.
“Sit down, Theodora.
”

Against her own volition, Theodora stumbled backwards to the couch and sat down.

“You are a very powerful woman,” said Ishtar, smiling. “Nearly the most powerful in Rome.”

“Nearly?” said Theodora. She was still frightened at how Nyx had made her obey, and her voice trembled with anger as she spoke.

“Nearly,” said Nyx. “When Benedict dies, who will replace him?”

“I… I do not know,” said Theodora.

“The most powerful woman in Rome would know.”

Theodora’s eyes flashed with anger, but before she could speak, Nyx added softly, “In fact, the most powerful woman in Rome would choose the next pope.”

Theodora tilted her nose up. “It is up to the Council to elect the new pope.”

“Now, now,” said Nyx. “We all know that isn’t true. Or else why would you have worked so hard to get your lover into that position, only to have him driven from the city?”

“And the Lombard’s pope put in his place,” added Ishtar. “Very annoying indeed.” The anger in Theodora’s eyes grew stronger, and it was Ishtar’s turn to smile. “You must have enjoyed him a great deal, to reward him so.” Her tongue lightly touched her top lip.

“You will leave, now!”

“No, we won’t,” said Nyx. “Benedict will be dead very, very soon. Have your man ready for the papacy, Theodora, and you will have power beyond your wildest dreams. Fail in this, and you will remembered for nothing.”

“There’s not enough power in Rome to elect Sergius pope!”

“There would be,” said Ishtar, “If your husband aligned himself with Alberic of Speleto.”

“Think on it,” said Nyx. “Because as it is, you have nothing.”

“I have enough power to have you both killed,” said Theodora, her voice cold and angry.

To her surprise, both Angels laughed at her. “No,” said Nyx, standing. “You don’t.”

The two women walked out of the room, leaving Theodora seething.

In the hallway, Ishtar heard a young girl singing. She stepped away from Nyx and followed the sound. In a room overlooking a garden, a beautiful young girl sat on the window-seat, singing to herself as she embroidered a cushion. Her nurse sat to one side, nodding and humming as the girl sang.

Twelve,
thought Ishtar.
Maybe thirteen.
She was her mother’s child, there was no question of it, though she had not started to fill out as her mother had. She was still slim, with only a hint of breasts and hips. She had large eyes like her mother, but blue instead of brown, and her hair had streaks of auburn running through its long waves. Together with her blue dress and the simple rings she wore on her hand, she was fetching enough to gain the promise of marriage from any number of eligible nobles.

The girl noticed Ishtar then, and her song faltered.

“Oh, don’t stop,” said Ishtar, smiling a gentle, kind smile. “Please. Your mother was just telling me what a lovely voice you had, and when I heard the singing I had to come see for myself.”

The girl blushed. “Thank you, my lady.”

“She didn’t tell me your name, though, my dear. What is it?”

“Marozia, my lady.”

“You are very beautiful, Marozia,” Ishtar said. “Are you promised to anyone yet?”

The girl blushed again. “No, my lady.”

“Then someday soon, there is going to be a very lucky man out there,” said Ishtar. “And now, I must go. I’ll leave you to your singing and your embroidery, and I wish you they joy of the day.”

“And to you, my lady.” The girl had a very pretty curtsey, too. Ishtar gave her a regal one back and left.

Nyx said not to kill the innocent ones,
Ishtar thought.
She didn’t say anything about corrupting them.
She put together a plan in her head, and savored it as she walked.
Nyx is growing too fond of these humans again. We’ll have to see about changing that.

That night, Nyx stood on the balcony outside Theodora’s bedroom, listening. Theodora bedded her husband thoroughly and at length before broaching the subject. “It seems a shame that the next pope will not be serving our family.”

“He’s from Bologna,” said Theophylact, dismissing him with a wave of his arm. “He won’t be serving anybody. I think the cardinals got tired of having us tell them what to do.”

“Then perhaps he should be replaced,” suggested Theodora. “Say, by one who is more… malleable?”

“A good thought,” said Theophylact, smiling at his wife. He reached a hand down her body and caressed her. “Unfortunately, we do not have the men to do so.”

“Would we if we were to ally ourselves with someone?” asked Theodora, caressing him back.

“Like who?” returned Theophylact.

“Alberic,” said Theodora.

“Him?” Theophylact scoffed. “I’d sooner trust a Saracen. The man became Duke by murdering his own cousin.”

“Hardly the first to do so,” said Theodora.

“Still doesn’t make him worth trusting.”

“True,” said Theodora. “Of course, if Alberic were bound by ties of marriage…”

Theophylact raised an eyebrow. “Our daughter is young, yet.”

“Not so young as she can’t be put on display,” said Theodora, increasing the speed of her caresses. “Or promised to a wealthy, strong man who will protect her interests. And ours.”

“Hmm,” said Theophylact. “She’s a gentle girl, naive…”

“She will not remain so, my lord. Not my daughter.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I am. And why should some young man get the benefit of her and not her parents?”

“Indeed. Yes, you are wise. I’ll broach the idea with Alberic’s people in the city,” He groaned. “Meanwhile, I think a trip is in order for you.”