Inhuman - Chapter 9

An Emperor’s Privilege and the Madness of Peyra’s Solstice

This is a webnovel. First 10 chapters are free to all Substack subscribers. After that, you can access the ongoing chapters plus receive access to the digital file at the end of each arc by becoming a paid subscriber.

Chapter 9

Emperor Nazalath looked over the papers, unconsciously pulling at his heavy eyebrow. Making sense of the reports that were filled with vague diplomatic language gave him a headache. He sighed, tossing the papers on his desk. He debated whether he had been too hasty in removing his last aide. The man certainly handled the notorious cursive scripts used by various diplomats better than the others.

However, Filko, his trusted spy, proved the aide’s disloyalty by tying him to the Anarchist Conference. The aide admitted his sins under torture, and the guards hanged him that day. Still, Nazalath missed the dead man’s ability to handle the vast amount of information flowing into the emperor’s office. He needed more assistants. However, the one thing more important to ability was absolute loyalty.

It’s so hard to find such men anymore.

The steady sway of his special train rolling along the countryside outside of Makla. Inside the private car, he sat at his gold-trimmed desk, made of the same elaborate wooden panels of teakwood that covered the walls. Nazalath paid no attention to the small scenic farms passing by the golden-framed windows. While those homesteads gave up the bulk of wheat and rye grown in his empire, his thoughts focused on his next steps with another thorn in his side: Ikarus Signoria.

The last free state outside of his control had remained a goal of his since he had taken the throne away from his brother twenty years before. However, the rugged mountain terrain, combined with a strong civilian army, made a quick invasion difficult. Worse, the wealthy bankers based in the republic’s capital of Iyrus held too much of the empire’s gold and debt notes. Any threats against the country would dry up the emperor’s finances, along with the ability to keep his provinces in check.

The large man leaned back in the ornate gold chair; his overweight body caused the joints to creak. He pulled off a red silk cap and rubbed the back of his head. Nazalath suddenly pulled his hand away, leaning closer to the mirror in front of him. He tapped the bald patch on the top of his scalp with embarrassment.

Those worthless doctors and their cures that don’t work!

The noble remembered the last treatment. A smelly concoction of a potion composed of horseradish, pigeon stool, beetroot, and opium. He wore the remedy in a turban for months. Still, nothing relieved him of the balding area growing larger each time he looked.

The emperor swore to himself that he’d have the next charlatan who claimed that they could grow hair. He made sure the man suffered a painful death in the torture chambers. A soft knock on his door suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

A pleasant-looking woman in a bright green dress entered, her long red hair already unpinned and draped across her shoulders.

“Father, you asked me to warn you when we were a few hours from our destination.”

“Yes, that’s right!” He stood up and removed the golden robe he wore over his silk pajamas.

“It’s Patraj, correct?” The man asked as he went to the enormous bed that nearly filled the room.

“Yes, I’m your eighth daughter.” She replied quietly while removing her dress.

“Ah, yes, my youngest currently. I’ve heard from an advisor that a family has an interest in marrying you. I’m sure you’ll miss our time together.”

The young woman watched as he pulled off his pajamas and sat on the edge of the bed. She tried to hide her disgust as she finished removing her clothing. His fat belly, large ugly face, and graying beard made him a revolting sight to look at. Patraj found it far worse that she needed to submit to his sexual desires.

Only a wretched noble bastard would do something like this!

Her father had multiple wives, along with an assortment of sons and daughters. Yet Patraj submitted to humiliation like the rest of the family. Nazalath cared for no one but himself. He used sex, degradation, and submission as tools to maintain his control. The emperor’s gratification extended to daughters like Patraj, who carried no noble family ties. She was a device to keep the rich commoners in check while offering those families the illusion they would wield influence in the court.

Patraj would soon marry a man she’d never met before, who lived in a distant part of the empire. The emperor took advantage of her last few days working in his court to seed her womb daily. As the woman kneeled down in front him, he gently lifted her head with his hand. The touch of his hand, along with his cold eyes, made her shiver.

“You seem distracted, my child. Perhaps you are thinking of your new young lover.”

She shook her head.

“I think only of my duties to the emperor,” she mechanically stated.

“That’s a good girl. You’re plain and obedient, like your mother. Tell me, is she still in my harem?”

Patraj’s eyes dropped, and her lips pressed together.

“No, she died last year,” she bit her lip to control her growing fury.

“Oh, that’s right! It’s coming back to me now,” he said, patting her head.

“Yes, a kitchen wench poisoned by that terrible assassin trying to kill me. She received a state funeral for her services to me. Of course, her sacrifice for the empire brings you comfort.”

The man pulled down his silk pants.

“Given your commoner background, it’s a shame that I can’t keep you longer. But that wealthy merchant who wants you for a wife will provide suitable compensation for me. Perhaps you’ll even surprise him with a gift of my loins.”

She frowned at the thought. Nazalath grabbed her head and pressed her face toward his groin.

“Don’t disappoint me. You still have another week before you leave.”

~~~

Night fell over Frola and the evening train failed to arrive on time. With his pale mask covering his face, Grym spoke to the station manager after buying tickets. A breakdown meant the train would not arrive until well into the night. While the manager kept giving him the runaround about the time, a few silver coins got Grym better information.

“Maybe I should just wait it out since this empire is falling down around us,” Grym sighed as he told Valary the news.

“I never knew you had a sense of humor,” she replied. “I have no intention of waiting.”

Valary sat on a crude bench in a corner of the train station. Grym grunted at her remark. The cloud-filled darkness and dim oil lanterns made them nearly invisible to the only other apparent passenger waiting on the coming train.

“Neither do I.” He paused, then decided on something.

“Perhaps you’re ready to begin,” he whispered, leaning closer. “I’ll give you a spell to remember. Don’t practice it yet since there are people in the area. I just want you to memorize it.”

After he told her the spell, Valary’s eyes widened. It was a variation of the spell that Grym used on the monster in the labyrinth.

“I don’t need to touch someone?”

He shook his head.

“But I’ve not given you every detail yet. Just memorize what I’ve told you,” Grym explained. “You’ll learn the other parts when your body is ready.”

She noticed his expression swiftly change. Valary scanned the room, but it remained quiet. A large man wearing a black suit and red vest had a large salesman’s leather bag sitting next to him. The felt hat he wore slid over slightly as he dozed, giving him a comical look. Grym paced back and forth, reminding her of his increased agitation.

Is he worried about giving me the spell? I can see why he doesn’t want me to try it!

However, she watched as Grym paced in the shadows. His behavior concerned her. When he came next to her bench, the inhuman looked up at the clock quietly ticking away on the nearby wall.

“Is there a problem?” she asked quietly.

Grym shook his head, then changed his mind.

“I made a mistake,” he confessed.

“What do you mean?”

“I forgot it’s Peyra’s Solstice tonight. The cloud cover hides the night sky, so I missed the obvious,” he hissed out in clear pain.

Valary looked up at the sky, suddenly remembered that she had not seen a calendar in many months. However, she knew the solstice meant the moon was at its fullest.

“Is that bad for you?”

He nodded. She noticed his dark eyes showed an uncanny excitement.

“The madness becomes unbearable,” he whispered. “You and that fat man over there smell delicious.”

Her expression immediately turned to fear, and he grunted out a chuckle.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gone yet. But I must do something before the train arrives.” Grym scanned the room, finally deciding on action. “Keep quiet and out of sight. I’ll be back soon.”

“What are you doing?” She hissed.

The expressionless mask frightened her as he stared down.

“To feed, of course! Every village has a stray dog.”

The woman felt the intimidating power of his desperation coming through those words. As Grym walked away, Valary suddenly regretted her lack of resolve as thoughts weaved through her mind.

I should have tried harder to stop him.

What if he kills someone to eat them?

What will happen to me?

The woman took a deep breath, feeling foolish and helpless. Then she remembered his words and shuddered.

You and the fat man smell delicious!

Grym stepped into the still night air and immediately picked up a scent. Saliva started to drip from his lips as he hurried across the open ground to the back of a building. The inhuman easily followed the path under the bright moonlight to the edge of the building. The scent grew stronger, and he silently pulled a knife from his belt. Drool from his mouth dripped down on Grym’s hand.

He found his prey on top of a pile of unburned trash. The furry mapache had its back to Grym. Using its human-like fingers, the creature nibbled on something it found in the trash. Grym silently slid his knife back into his belt. In a flash, the inhuman burst around the corner of the building. He caught his prey by the scruff of its neck, immediately lifting the squealing creature high in the air before slamming it into the hard ground. Grym bit into the neck of the stunned animal, his mind recoiling at the stench in his nostrils. However, the creature’s blood spilling into his mouth overrode any human sense of sympathy or pity. Instead, he lifted the still struggling animal up while ripping deeper into its throat. Grym barely felt the death shudders of the mapache dying as he continued to tear through the fur and eat the bloody flesh.

While Grym ate, he heard footsteps behind him. When he turned, the yellow light of a lantern temporarily blinded him. Instantly, he attacked the person holding the lamp. His bloody hand slipped as he pulled his knife, but his quickness put the inhuman in front of the person a split second later. An ashen face of a large woman stood frozen in stupefied horror as he struck her body with his fist. The surrounding area lit up briefly, then went black as the lamp glass top shattered a few feet away.

The inhuman had his teeth on the woman’s throat when his senses finally returned. He pulled his face back while pinning the female to the ground. Their labored breathing was the only sound.

“Scream and I’ll kill you!”