Plague of Angels (24 page)

In the brothel south of the papal palace, Nyx and Ishtar sat drinking wine.

“This,” said Ishtar, “is very disappointing.”

“The wine, or the election of Leo V?” asked Nyx, tossing back her own glass.

“Both,” said Ishtar. “Especially the wine. If this is what
Tribunal
was drinking before he died, no wonder he hated them all.”

“Don’t make fun of Tribunal,” warned Nyx, feeling rage and the need to lash out all humanity, and a desperate urgency to finish her mission fill her mind at the mention of her beloved’s name.

“Apologies,” said Ishtar, enjoying the effect that mentioning the name was having on Nyx. “I meant no disrespect to
Tribunal.
” She took another sip of the awful wine. “Do you think Leo is going to be our man?”

“No,” said Nyx. “The cardinals elected him because the other choices were repugnant.”

“What, no call for Sergius?”

“Not yet,” said Nyx. “The Roman nobility has been too greedy too long. They want someone from outside.”

“Of course they do,” said Ishtar.

“And what have you been up to?” asked Nyx. “You certainly haven’t been with me.”

“Papal politics aren’t interesting me right now,” said Ishtar airily. “I’m looking further afield for ways to bring our pope into power.”

“I thought you enjoyed corrupting Rome.”

“Oh, I do,” said Ishtar. “But then, there’s so many ways to corrupt it, I thought I would try a different one.”

Nyx’s eyes narrowed, and her voice echoed in Ishtar’s head.
“Why is your mind closed to me?”

“Because I want it to be a surprise,”
replied Ishtar, praying that the blocks stayed in place.
“You’ll see the results soon enough.”

“I hope so,” said Nyx. “Time is beginning to run short, Ishtar. We need to be ready to move on Jerusalem.”

“Not for another hundred years or more,” said Ishtar. “There’s still plenty of time.”

“We thought that during the Empire,” said Nyx. “Let’s not make the same mistake again.”

The mistake was leaving you in charge,
thought Ishtar. “Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten any of the lessons from the Empire.”

“Good.” Nyx finished her wine. “I must speak with Theodora. They need to cement the alliance with Alberic if they’re going to gain enough sway to put Sergius in charge.”

“And what will happen to Leo V?” asked Ishtar.

“You’ll get rid of him,” said Nyx. “Before the end of the year.”

Ishtar smiled. “My pleasure.”

That night, Marozia lay in her room in her father’s house, crying. She had sent her maids away, wanting to be alone. The lessons that Ishtar had taught her were harsh, and practicing them was even more so. She did not like the men, did not like the way they touched her, and did not want it to continue. It left her feeling dirty and demeaned.
If only Ishtar would let me stop…

“You can’t stop, child,” said Ishtar. “You’re only now beginning to show signs of improvement.”

Marozia curled up into a ball, huddling in on herself so she would not have to face the Angel who hovered over her bed. A gentle hand landed on her shoulder, and the pain in her body and her mind faded away. The horrible empty feeling in her stomach disappeared, replaced by warmth and a sense of joy.

“That’s better, my dear,” crooned Ishtar. “Now come. You are needed, tonight.”

“Wha… where…Where are we going, Ishtar?”

Ishtar flexed her wings. “To give an annoying little man a vision and gift of flesh.”

“A gift of….” Marozia’s face fell. “My flesh?”

“Yes, my dear,” said Ishtar. “But not your virginity. Let him think he can have that later.”

“Why?” Marozia felt tears rising anew. “Why do I have to?”

“Because you are a delightful young thing, when you are not whining, and that is what he prefers,” said Ishtar. “His name is Christopher, and with the right incentive, he will do exactly as I wish.”

Christopher was alone in his garden when the Holy Virgin appeared to him. She wore blue and white, and her halo glowed brilliant white. She had appeared out of nowhere, and she wept as she looked at him. “Oh, Christopher,” she said. “How can you sit here, when Rome needs you?”

“My lady?”

“The papacy is corrupted,” said the Holy Virgin. “It has been betrayed from within, and only you can set it right.”

“Me?” Christopher shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Look upon this child,” said the Holy Virgin, and a young girl dressed in white appeared beside her. “It is her destiny to be yours.”

“But… the pope cannot…”

“Leo will take her,” said the Virgin. “He will despoil her. And her virginity must belong to you alone.”

The girl stepped forward and bowed her head. “It is my destiny,” she said “I have been shown by an Angel that I am to bear a pope’s child, a child who will become pope himself.”

“Truly?” said Christopher.

“Truly,” said the Virgin. “She is to be yours, to take pleasure with as you will.”

“When?” asked Christopher, his desire naked on his face.

“Only after you have taken Rome,” said the Virgin. “Then may you have her as yours, so that she may perform her holy duty.” Ishtar let her halo glow brighter as she laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “For now, she may give you but a taste of what pleasures will await you, once Rome is in your hands.”

The girl stepped forward and knelt in font of him as Ishtar had to force herself not to grin. Christopher would do exactly as he was bid.

“It is too far!” declared Theophylact to the council of Roman nobles around him. “Too far for any of us to tolerate!”

“Too far for you to tolerate, you mean,” shouted one of the Vincentii whose noble house had long opposed Theophylact.

“He claims rights to my daughter,” snapped Theophylact. “Based on vision of the Holy Virgin.”

“Well, if the Virgin sent him, who are we to deny it?”

“The Virgin is not a panderer!”

“Unlike your wife!”

The laughter went around the room, ending at Alberic. The big man rose to his feet and looked over the others. “Marozia has been promised to me,” he said. “Not to this foul little man. Nor will I allow him to give Italy over to those who do not have its best interest at heart.” he crossed the floor to Theophylact. “I will stand with my brother, and defend our church against those who would turn it into a whorehouse.” He looked over the other nobles, who knew that between them Alberic and Theophylact controlled enough men and arms to decimate Rome and half of Italy besides. Alberic knew it, too. “Now, who will stand with me?”

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!”