necessary. She enjoyed her position as the favored lover of the queen and would not wish to lose favor in a court run by Namtar.
“I should have killed him centuries ago. It was madness to allow the son of a rival house to live.” Ereshkigal shifted uncomfortably on her throne, and reached for another glass of wine.
“He was sworn into your service before he had fifteen seasons,” Nergal, her consort , said. “No matter that his mother once ruled, Namtar was as fiercely loyal as any of the court. He was a friend to us both.”
“A friend? More like a viper lying in wait. I should never have trusted him.”
“There was no reason to think he would dare oppose you. Not until the character of the court changed in so many ways.” Nergal’s voice was now so soft she could barely hear him over Antonia’s wailing.
Luckily she had no wish to hear her consort’s thoughts. She had seen the condemnation in his eyes when she reported Namtar’s betrayal. He blamed her for the threat to their power, this coward who had done nothing to expand their empire beyond fathering a few treacherous sons so eager to overthrow their parents she was forced to banish them not long after they grew to manhood.
“He was simply biding his time.” Ereshkigal paused, waiting for Antonia’s shriek to fade. “He stole the people’s loyalty to me with his trickery and lies. Look to the hall. The observation boxes are less than half full. It has never been so, not in a thousand seasons. And those who have come are whispering amongst themselves, even now praying for Namtar’s return, for their salvation at his hands.”
“They would have no need of such prayers were their lives less…trying.”
Trying. Was that what he considered her, merely trying?
Ereshkigal made a mental note to call Nergal to her bed tonight along with one or two of the more repulsive demons. If she were merely trying his patience, it was time for her consort to be reminded of the horror she could bring into his world if she so chose.
Her magic was stronger than his own, always had been and always would be, yet she was unable to break the bond they had forged so many millennia ago. It enraged her, drove her to the brink of insanity to be saddled with such a pitiful excuse for a husband, a man who still ached to fuck her no matter how miserably she treated him. He was pathetic, repulsive and in need of a lesson in manners. No one reprimanded the queen of the Sumerian Underworld. No one. Not even her king.
“Ereshkigal! Please! My love, spare me!” Antonia was hysterical, clawing at the floor as she scrambled to escape the demon at her back. She was proving herself as weak as Nergal, shaming Ereshkigal in front of the court with her cowardly display.
“Silence her, or I fear I may do something I will regret.” Ereshkigal snapped her fingers, signaling the attendant at her side. The slave boy burst into motion, ripping a piece of his own loincloth free in order to stuff it in Antonia’s mouth.
Peace descended on the great hall at last, but it did nothing to ease the tension mounting within Ereshkigal, tightening her hand around her glass until her knuckles were white. She could feel the disapproval in the air, the censor of her people, people who would never have survived the journey to the Underworld all those years ago without her death magic. How soon they forgot the debt they owed, turning their loyalty to another simply because he held the power to walk the Earthly plane.
No matter, she would eliminate the threat of Namtar soon enough.
Three more demon commanders would take Antonia’s body for their pleasure, thusly securing the legions of lesser demon warriors they commanded for Ereshkigal’s use. Appeasing the demon lords’ lust for human flesh was a small price to pay for the forces she would need to retrieve Namtar from the world above. The lesser demons would find him and return him to her before he bonded with a human soul. He could not have
“I should have killed him centuries ago. It was madness to allow the son of a rival house to live.” Ereshkigal shifted uncomfortably on her throne, and reached for another glass of wine.
“He was sworn into your service before he had fifteen seasons,” Nergal, her consort , said. “No matter that his mother once ruled, Namtar was as fiercely loyal as any of the court. He was a friend to us both.”
“A friend? More like a viper lying in wait. I should never have trusted him.”
“There was no reason to think he would dare oppose you. Not until the character of the court changed in so many ways.” Nergal’s voice was now so soft she could barely hear him over Antonia’s wailing.
Luckily she had no wish to hear her consort’s thoughts. She had seen the condemnation in his eyes when she reported Namtar’s betrayal. He blamed her for the threat to their power, this coward who had done nothing to expand their empire beyond fathering a few treacherous sons so eager to overthrow their parents she was forced to banish them not long after they grew to manhood.
“He was simply biding his time.” Ereshkigal paused, waiting for Antonia’s shriek to fade. “He stole the people’s loyalty to me with his trickery and lies. Look to the hall. The observation boxes are less than half full. It has never been so, not in a thousand seasons. And those who have come are whispering amongst themselves, even now praying for Namtar’s return, for their salvation at his hands.”
“They would have no need of such prayers were their lives less…trying.”
Trying. Was that what he considered her, merely trying?
Ereshkigal made a mental note to call Nergal to her bed tonight along with one or two of the more repulsive demons. If she were merely trying his patience, it was time for her consort to be reminded of the horror she could bring into his world if she so chose.
Her magic was stronger than his own, always had been and always would be, yet she was unable to break the bond they had forged so many millennia ago. It enraged her, drove her to the brink of insanity to be saddled with such a pitiful excuse for a husband, a man who still ached to fuck her no matter how miserably she treated him. He was pathetic, repulsive and in need of a lesson in manners. No one reprimanded the queen of the Sumerian Underworld. No one. Not even her king.
“Ereshkigal! Please! My love, spare me!” Antonia was hysterical, clawing at the floor as she scrambled to escape the demon at her back. She was proving herself as weak as Nergal, shaming Ereshkigal in front of the court with her cowardly display.
“Silence her, or I fear I may do something I will regret.” Ereshkigal snapped her fingers, signaling the attendant at her side. The slave boy burst into motion, ripping a piece of his own loincloth free in order to stuff it in Antonia’s mouth.
Peace descended on the great hall at last, but it did nothing to ease the tension mounting within Ereshkigal, tightening her hand around her glass until her knuckles were white. She could feel the disapproval in the air, the censor of her people, people who would never have survived the journey to the Underworld all those years ago without her death magic. How soon they forgot the debt they owed, turning their loyalty to another simply because he held the power to walk the Earthly plane.
No matter, she would eliminate the threat of Namtar soon enough.
Three more demon commanders would take Antonia’s body for their pleasure, thusly securing the legions of lesser demon warriors they commanded for Ereshkigal’s use. Appeasing the demon lords’ lust for human flesh was a small price to pay for the forces she would need to retrieve Namtar from the world above. The lesser demons would find him and return him to her before he bonded with a human soul. He could not have
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