Chapter Nine The Cobra’s Wicked Heart

CHAPTER NINE

The Cobra's Wicked Heart

Fire painted the night. The battle raged beyond the palace windows, but the library was still quiet. Years ago, Lord Marius had hung his ancestral sword on the library wall. Starving for Blood was the sword's name. It had drunk no blood in years. Not since the heir gave up war training and knelt on the ice outside the Ivory Tower, swearing he would be a scholar.

Now he stood by the hearth listening to the chaos of death outside, his cold face unreadable. Moonshine and firelight twined in shimmering red and silver ribbons on the bared blade.

At last the Last Hope broke his vow, and took down his sword.

Time of Iron , ANONYMOUS

I t was too early for vile debauchery. The Cobra never rose before twelve, so appalling scenes usually occurred after Marius's noonday prayer. Yet this morning Marius must witness the Golden Cobra, outrageously alone with a woman wearing a disgraceful gown.

As usual, the Cobra was dressed as if a pirate chest had vomited on him. Popenjoy leaned to whisper in the woman's ear, his hair ornaments brushing her cheek. They glanced at Marius and tittered, obviously making a nasty joke. Not that Marius cared. A Valerius had superior senses. Marius could hear what they were saying, if he chose.

He did not so choose. Marius couldn't believe his studies had been interrupted by Popenjoy's arrant nonsense. Again.

He said icily, "I didn't appreciate your summons. I am no dog to be called to heel."

Popenjoy was wearing an odd, thin smile. Gloating, no doubt. "Yet you came. You didn't have to."

What choice did he have? Marius gave a mirthless laugh. What choice did he ever have, thanks to the Cobra?

Frustration rattled his bones like the bars of a cage, emotion so intense it longed to tip into fury. Marius had not permitted himself fury since he was seventeen.

"I'm serious," the Cobra insisted.

"Seems unlikely," Marius murmured.

The Cobra's smile sparked from lip to eye, then died. "Don't be hilarious," he instructed, which was absurd. Marius didn't make jokes. "I'm mad at you."

Marius stared over the Cobra's shoulder, out the bay window. Beyond the city's high walls and the Oracle's misty mountains lay the ducal estate. The great manor of Valerius, surrounded by new farmland and old battlefields, where he'd spent his childhood. Before he ever travelled to the Palace on the Edge or the Ivory Tower.

"I fail to see why you called me here to announce you are mad. I knew that already."

"Please stay calm, Lord Marius," sounded a throaty, insinuating voice.

The woman on the conversation sofa leaned over, almost spilling out of her gown. Marius hastily directed his gaze to the chandelier.

Not before he recognized her. To Marius's shocked disgust, the Cobra was entertaining Lady Rahela Domitia. The treacherous guard currently skulking outside the Cobra's door had spoken true. Lady Rahela was pardoned, and a holy prophet. As far as Marius was concerned, this meant she was a blasphemer as well as a traitor.

Apparently the Cobra found blasphemous treachery irresistible.

Birds of a stained feather flocked together, but the Cobra always avoided Lady Rahela. He murmured ‘shoes' when he saw her. It seemed he had high standards for his lady friends' footwear. Marius wished the Cobra had high standards for his lady friends' characters . The Cobra could have anyone he wanted. Ladies constantly hurled themselves in Lord Popenjoy's direction during social occasions, while Marius hid behind the gold sleeves and wished for the library. Or death.

"Marius, I know you've heard Lady Rahela receives revelatory visions from the gods."

The only revelation which seemed likely was that of the lady's bosom.

Marius's lip curled. "Don't tell me you believe her. You're many unspeakable things. I've never known you to be stupid."

Except in one thing. The Cobra had chosen to blackmail Marius, when every soul in the kingdom knew to incite the wrath of a Valerius meant death.

Long ago the country was almost overwhelmed by the dead. Until the first King of Eyam was put on his throne by the First Duke, a man of supernatural strength and fury who appeared from nowhere to single-handedly butcher an army. The First Duke's sons, and their sons' sons, all inherited a portion of his great power and his great rage. For generations every war against the undead horde was won with a Valerius leading the charge. Other nobles needed enchanted weapons to fight, but every Valerius was a lethal weapon against the enemy.

Until the enemy was defeated. The mindless dead remaining were driven into the ravine. Berserkers won Eyam peace, then found they were not made for peace. The dukes pretended the ancient rage had faded down the generations. Except there were… incidents. The fires that ravaged their manor. The maidservants seduced, then brutalized. The dead brides. The long night of screams and locked doors, when Marius came home early from military training and left the next day never to return.

Marius had vowed to be the last of his line. In a more civilized time, the brutal old magic didn't belong. Women hid their children from Marius as he passed. The whole world knew his heart was a monster that must be kept chained. At any moment Marius's restraint might crack like the black ice on the Cliffs Cold as Loneliness, unleashing rage more insatiable than any dead thing from the abyss.

And the Cobra taunted Marius without cease. The Cobra wasn't stupid. He was ruinously, wickedly mad.

"Speak the unspeakable," the Cobra urged Marius. "What am I? Do I deserve to die for it?"

"Stop goading him," Lady Rahela warned. "I wish for peace between us, Lord Marius. Beautiful, non-violent peace."

"I'm aware of the definition of peace, madam."

His curtness encouraged the lady to greater heights of impropriety. She rose from the sofa where she was posed like a drawing in an obscene book. "I regret my past. I have seen the light!"

"To what light do you refer?" Marius asked tightly.

Did she mean the chandelier? They could all see the chandelier. It was enormous and ostentatious. The Cobra had terrible taste.

"My lord," Lady Rahela purred. "What I mean is, I hope we can be friends."

The way this criminal eyed Marius made his flesh creep. Her gaze held interest but no engagement, as though she were watching one of the Cobra's plays. Marius raked her with a scathing look, and watched her shiver.

Swiftly the Cobra stepped up, patting Lady Rahela's shoulder as he passed, to act as a shield between them.

The Cobra was deliberately cruel. A peculiar point about him was his cruelty was deliberate. He had to concentrate on cruelty, while often committing small thoughtless acts of kindness. Most people behaved in exactly the opposite way. It was as if he'd once been a better man, and some instinct for kindness remained in the ruin.

Marius had long given up on that better man making any meaningful reappearance.

"Don't use the voice, Lady Rahela." The painted skin around Popenjoy's eyes crinkled. "It's scaring him."

The genuine smile was disquieting. Did the Cobra actually like this woman?

Marius felt unwell. He knew the rumours of the king dishonouring Lady Rahela must be false. Still, Lady Rahela tempted Octavian into thoughtless behaviour. It was hideous to contemplate, but the king and Lady Rahela had definitely had unchaperoned encounters.

Rahela was having an unchaperoned encounter with the Cobra right now.

"I naturally sound like a phone sex operator," Lady Rahela protested. "I've decided to lean in."

She certainly was leaning in! Marius eyed her coldly, and watched her turn snow pale. For once, he was glad to inspire fear.

"Steady now," the Cobra whispered, sweet in Rahela's ear.

"More difficult than you might imagine. These boobs aren't anatomically possible. I keep losing my balance."

Lady Rahela's words were mysterious, but her gaze flicked to her own bosom, clearly inviting the Cobra to have a look too.

Women didn't scare Marius. He was revolted by this one, and unaccustomed in general. From his lady mother and his baby sister, he knew women had their own thoughts and feelings, but he had no way to learn what the interior lives of women at court might be. His experience with Lady Rahela's mother hadn't encouraged him to risk trying.

Except he'd had a glimpse into one woman's heart.

Marius's mind travelled back to the evening when he heard her weep. The fire in the library hearth having died away during long hours of studying, he made out a sorrowful voice drifting up from the kitchen chimneys. Lady Lia's voice was a river carrying Marius back to the day he ceased to be a child. Her voice made him imagine his own small sister, needing mercy in a merciless world.

He'd never dreamed sympathy for an unseen girl could lead to such terrible consequences. Blasphemers in revealing gowns were on the loose, and the Cobra was cradling them to his bosom.

Wait. Lady Rahela could barely walk, and she was babbling gibberish in the same way Popenjoy did. Everything was abruptly clear.

They were both drunk.

"Sober up. I'm leaving." Marius turned from the spectacle and towards the door.

The Cobra's voice struck, poisonous as the serpent he was named for. "You're not."

Against gold-and-white doors, Marius's imagination painted a scene of vivid red retribution. It would take three steps to reach the Cobra.

He whirled around.

Whatever was on Marius's face, it made Lady Rahela lift her hands in surrender. She pushed the Cobra away, retreated until the back of her legs hit the conversation sofa, then tumbled gracelessly down. Her expression suggested she might hide behind the sofa.

Marius thought the lady's behaviour was wise.

The Cobra, a clever man who did not know the meaning of wisdom, advanced. "Gonna kill me?"

A hard edge broke the smooth surface of the Cobra's voice. Slowly, it dawned on Marius what that meant.

Unbelievably, the Cobra was angry with him.

"Who do you think you are?" Marius demanded. "You're nothing. I put up my sword seven years ago. I swore a holy oath. You dream I would betray my gods and my honour for a self-serving worm like you ?"

Even that hardened jade Lady Rahela winced. The Cobra continued being calm, cool, and casually familiar with an unclothed criminal.

The Cobra raised an unforgivably nonchalant eyebrow. "I never imagined you would. But you did say you were tempted."

He'd been tempted many times. He was so tempted now. The Cobra was standing far too close. Marius swallowed hunger down hard, silencing the ravenous call for violence in his blood.

"Cease tormenting me, and be safe."

Popenjoy had the gall to sound shocked. "How did I ever torment you?"

"Let me count the ways! You insist on detestable familiarity by calling me by my first name, when you've never told me yours."

The Cobra's deep voice lilted up in a question. "Do you want to know my name, Marius?"

"Keep my name out of your mouth!"

The Cobra's taunt bit cold as chains into flesh. He didn't want to know the Cobra's name. He wanted to hurl in the man's face all the wrongs the Cobra had done him.

"You separate me from my king."

"He's a dick!" Marius was rendered speechless. The Cobra shrugged. "You know what, have fun with that. Be my guest."

Often when courtiers approached the Cobra, he gave them a single evaluating glance before turning away. They were measured and charmingly banished from his attention forever.

Marius refused to be dismissed. "You manipulate everyone according to your whims. You force me to vote for frivolity at the ministers' assemblies."

"Excuse me for supporting the arts!"

"Is that what you call your entanglement with that opera singer?" Marius inquired frostily. "Or that theatre troupe last year!"

The troupe had been an all-women band of players. The prime minister observed actresses were sinners, and the Cobra said, ‘Promise?'

From the conversation sofa, Lady Rahela let out a squeak. For all her faults, she was an unmarried lady.

Marius inclined his head. "I apologize for mentioning this in your presence."

"Spill the tea," Lady Rahela mumbled.

Ah yes, she was drunk.

The Cobra's mouth hung open. He resembled a fish someone had painted gold. "You think I slept with an entire theatre troupe? Wow… thanks."

Marius asked contemptuously, "What kind of man says, ‘Thank you for thinking me even worse than I am'?"

The Cobra made a sweeping gesture, encompassing his whole loathsome form. "This kind of man. To recap. I called you by your name and preserved your illusions about your childhood friend. What else?"

The question seemed genuine, as if the Cobra's many sins had slipped his mind.

"You play with people like toys and break them. I saw you ruin a young nobleman. You stripped him of his entire fortune. He had no way out of dishonour but the noose."

The whole court had rung with shock at the Cobra's cruelty. Even now, Marius saw Lady Rahela jolt.

"I forgot that," she whispered.

The Cobra scoffed. "I enjoyed that. If that's my great sin? Give me my sin again."

This falseness was what Marius hated most about him. All laughing warmth on the surface, when beneath he revelled in evil. Lady Rahela was the wickedest woman at court, but she stared as if she too was chilled.

"You left him with nothing."

"He had his life," the Cobra said callously. "He had his freedom. Many don't."

"Like me," snapped Marius. "You never gave me a choice. This is my life!"

Lady Rahela rose, clearly bent on escape. The Cobra waved her down.

"You don't seem surprised by any of this," Marius accused. When Lady Rahela's eyes went guiltily wide, he wheeled on the Cobra. "You told a strange woman my secrets after associating with her for five minutes."

"Yikes," murmured Rahela. "I guess there's no other explanation!"

At any moment Marius's shame could be used against him by a woman willing to betray both her gods and her king. He didn't blame Lady Rahela for the Cobra's indiscretion, or her mother's long-ago trickery. Every soul should bear responsibility for their own actions.

This was the Cobra's fault.

The Cobra lived his whole life as a show. He didn't understand that by holding this conversation before a stranger he was wrenching out Marius's insides in the town square. And Marius, who'd made control part of his religion, was too angry to stop.

This was dangerous.

He was dangerous. Marius's heart clenched like a hand around a sword hilt. Every day since he left home, the same silent prayer burst from him. Deliver me from the monster I might be. Send help, send salvation. Lost gods, find me.

The Cobra played with fire, as he played with everything. His gaze was downcast, fiddling idly with the embroidery on his sleeves. "Are you thinking about killing me right now?"

Marius broke and lunged for him. Popenjoy's head snapped up, imperious brows raised, eyes clear and fearless, his gaze a command. It was a mockery of the gods that a hollow, corrupt creature could look like this.

Marius breathed, "I think about killing you all the time."

Lady Rahela said sharply, "I should fetch Key."

"The last thing we need in here is another killer!"

A killer. He tried so hard not to be that. Marius did not permit himself to flinch. The Cobra's airy, thoughtless words meant nothing to him.

Rahela demanded of the Cobra, "Can you fight?"

Marius bit out, "The whole court knows he's a craven."

"Arms training? No, I don't require intricate rituals to touch the skin of other men," the Cobra laughed. "I prefer dancing. There's no need to involve the Villain of the Cauldron. I must ask Marius one more thing. He might kill, but he won't lie."

"It's the killing I'm worried about!" hissed Lady Rahela.

Marius said, "You speak as if I am not present."

They discussed him like a dangerous object, a sword on a wall or a prop in a play, as if he were not really there.

The Cobra's gaze swung back to him. Popenjoy's low voice made the crystals of the chandelier chime. "Were we ever friends?"

Six years since they met, and it always came down to this. The Cobra, standing before him with another impossible demand. Marius must pretend he was the Cobra's most intimate friend. That was the bargain.

A soldier had to choose a course of action fast, or men died. "We were never friends. Every minute was a lie. Every minute was a horror."

He felt empty and dizzy with the relief of truth. Finally, the Cobra would stop laughing at him.

"Very well." Popenjoy sighed, set two fingers to the line between his brows, then made a small, dismissive gesture. "Consider yourself released from horror."

Marius, a step away, snarled in the Cobra's face: "I don't believe you! You're always lying. I didn't know why ! I didn't know what you would ask me to do. I didn't know if you were plotting to destroy my country or my king. You lied, and you laughed, and I watched you deceive everyone. For years."

Marius's honour, dearer than his life, was a toy in those playful hands. A careless word from that always-careless mouth could wreck his lady mother's pride, his young sister's marriage prospects, his own good name. There was only one way to stop him.

Marius spent his life in retreat, but today he took the last step forward. The Cobra's eyes went dark. Truth made the moment golden.

Marius whispered, "You deserve death."

For a man threatened with murder, the Golden Cobra was extremely calm. He glanced at Lady Rahela. "You were right. I'm a villain."

Shock hit like a mailed fist splintering a door. Marius knew that, but he'd never expected Popenjoy to agree.

"I acted as if I was the only real person in the world. That's what a villain is. I'm sorry, Mari—my lord. I'll stop."

It was almost impossible to disbelieve that voice, and utterly impossible to believe this man.

Fury bit hard as a panicked animal. "You blackmail me for years without remorse, but expect me to trust your sudden crisis of conscience?"

"Right," murmured Popenjoy. "… Great point."

There was a silence Marius knew from royal assemblies. Occasionally the Cobra fell quiet and contemplative, then disaster followed. Such as the time with the royal treasury, or – lost gods forbid – the countess's fur coat. This was the calm before a golden storm.

If someone had a weapon, you could warn people. Nobody would listen if you yelled, ‘Take cover! Don't let him think !'

The Cobra waved a finger, conducting the personal orchestra of lunacy inside his skull. "Listen. I'm a self-serving worm of a man, right? There's your answer."

He hadn't realized a trap could be made from words instead of net or steel, until he met the wicked marquis.

Marius shook his head in despair. "How could I possibly trust you?"

The Cobra leaned into Marius's space. A braid fell over his shoulder, foolish ornaments striking with the ring of truth.

"Because I am exactly the villain you think I am. My magnificent selfishness will save us both. Everyone knows I'm a coward. If our association is to end in death, obviously I wish to end that association."

Everybody feared Marius, but the Cobra never had before.

He looked afraid now. It was as disorienting as seeing him angry. Emotion usually skimmed the Cobra's surface like light on water. Now his shoulders were held taut as a bowstring, his eyes burning. Every dark impulse in Marius gathered close as wild beasts drawn to a lone fire in the wilderness.

The Cobra murmured, "Believe in my evil nature with the same unwavering faith you place in your lost gods. In this matter alone, you can trust me."

He made frequent gestures, so overflowing with conversation that he needs must talk with his hands as well as his mouth.

The gesture he made now precisely echoed a man on the hunting grounds, releasing a falcon. "Trust my wicked heart, my lord. Go free."

Marius, locked in a silent struggle with rage, didn't move. He had never seen the Cobra retreat before, but now he moved away. Towards that woman. Marius could break her neck easier than snapping his fingers, and take his time with the Cobra.

"I want Key," Lady Rahela whispered. Too soft for anyone but Marius to hear.

The parlour doors burst open. Lady Rahela's maid and guard entered as if responding to the summons they could not possibly have heard.

Servants couldn't stop him. Nothing could stop him.

The Cobra aimed words like a weapon. "Decorum, my lord."

Blood spilled hot down his throat as Marius bit down on his lip and bolted from the room. He'd never been turned out of the Cobra's company before.

He leaned against the Cobra's front door, dragging in desperate lungfuls of blood-tainted air. For years he'd longed for escape. He hadn't expected to feel cast adrift in freedom.

This intense unease must be a sign. Marius was descended from a long line of soldiers for whom knowing the difference between an animal passing by, or an enemy creeping closer, was the difference between life and death. His instincts were sounding the alarm.

Lady Rahela and the Cobra's conspiratorial glances and coded language echoed in his mind insistently as war drums. The combined force of their wickedness could bring down a kingdom.

I am exactly the villain you think I am , the Cobra had said. Marius knew the Cobra was a liar.

Marius must find out what these villains were plotting, and stop them.