Serpent's Quest

chapter eight: Suspicions

CHAPTER EIGHT

SUSPICIONS

Malthus' house had gone up swiftly. So far he had a single room partitioned off, with full walls and a door, instead of the usual half walls of the lycan longhouses: his bedroom. His nieces slept in the living area for the nonce. He intended to add a bedroom for them and a study for himself. Shalto and Oswyl had already laid the foundations. Eventually he would have a very cozy human style cottage. There had been a bit of complaining among some of the myn who had been here longer, however, once he got inside their minds, it stopped. The growing insularity of the camp meant that the general lycan community did not poke their noses in enough to notice the changes: it had become Malthus' little fiefdom.

Beth sat weeping on Malthus' big reed bed. "They use me like a whore, Malthus. Shalto, Oswyl, Torquil, and a dozen others. You have no idea what terrible things they do to me."

Malthus leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and a chill expression on his face. "I suggested most of it to them."

Beth shot him a disillusioned look. "My own people are doing this. How many more are you going to send to use me?"

"As many as I like. You are developing quite a reputation among the young males as a slut. I don't see why you're complaining. You're getting more than you ever did in your life."

She twisted her hands in her skirt, looking more forlorn by the moment. Malthus had her wearing better dresses, brighter colors, and belts to show that – although plump – she had a waistline. "I – I don't like it. Not this way. Not so many."

"Are you going to refuse them anything?" His voice oozed with contempt.

Beth squirmed. "I know better than to do that."

"I'm sure you do."

Beth dropped her head. "They found Tempest."

"Oh?"

"He's dead. They're saying it was a heart attack. But – but I don't think so. I think you killed him."

Malthus laughed derisively. "Of course I killed him. He was going to Merissa about my relationship with you."

"That's what this is all about, isn't it? Merissa? You want that sa'necari loving slut princess?"

Malthus came around and gripped Beth's face, forcing her to look at him. "You're forgetting something, Beth. You are a sa'necari loving slut."

"Oh, gods, I love you, Malthus."

"Stop saying that," Malthus grumbled. "Take your clothes off. Since you've been so busy for the past few days," he drew the words out with a sneer, "I've been plowing Kandaishee. I haven't had a taste of lycan in far too long."

Beth obeyed and sat waiting for him.

Malthus covered her temples with his palms and tore her mind open. "Once Tempest revealed how far the rumors had spread, I had to soil your reputation before Merissa could learn of it."

Beth whimpered as he worked on her, shoving more arcane needles into her most private corners. Tears ran down her face.

"Shall I tell you how I killed him, Beth?" Malthus asked, his voice low and sinister.

"No. Please. I don't want to hear it."

"You know how I hurt you with a single finger?"

"Stop, please."

"I put my hand on his chest, and I squeezed his heart until I ruptured it. A very painful way to die. Do you wish to die that way?"

Beth swallowed and her whimpering worsened. "No," she said in a small voice.