Villainous [Wattys 2021 Shortlist]

4: Nest of Vipers

The scarred thugs fell silent when Dante swept in, and Delilah noted the way they eyed up his expensive weapons, calculating their options. Did they know he was the Night Bringer, their King of Darkness? Surely not – they would already be running. Delilah stuck close to Dante's side and lowered her head: the perfect demure slave.

Dante leaned against the scratched bar, casually putting an arm on it as if he wasn't surrounded by bloodthirsty outlaws. He snapped his fingers at her. "Slave, hurry up."

"Y-Yes, master." Delilah scurried to his side.

The biggest, most tattooed man in the room stepped up to Dante. "What's your business here? Viper's Nest is no place for nobles." He brandished a sharpened meat cleaver in Dante's face.

Delilah held her breath, waiting. In one smooth movement, Dante knocked the knife out of the thug's hands and lifted him off his feet, slamming him against the wall as he drew his sword. Delilah unsheathed her own.

"I want information," Dante breathed. "And you're going to give it to me."

The thug spat in Dante's face, so Dante broke all the fingers on one hand. The resulting scream silenced every criminal in the whole Nest, even the ones on the higher floors.

"Where is the hidden Pelenu trail?" Dante demanded, and the thug whimpered that he did not know.

Delilah stood stoically watching as Dante began to break the man, torturing him slowly. She felt bored, and lounged picking at her nails until Dante snapped, "Are you going to speed this up, or just stand there? Pick a man and get on with it."

She winked at him. "As you wish." At his words, thugs bolted for the doors but Delilah was faster. She slammed them shut and began pushing the bolts into place, smiling and jabbing her sword at any who tried to stop her. In the presence of their king, they didn't seem to want to try too hard.

"Where is the hidden Pelenu trail?" she intoned, keeping her voice smooth and calm as she gouged and stabbed and sliced. Men howled and whimpered before her. Some of them ran to attack her or Dante and all were sent reeling back, blood spraying from their stomachs or throats.

They'd butchered fifteen between them before Delilah's next prey finally turned out to be useful.

"Wait – wait!" he screeched, squirming to get away from her sword as its tip hovered in front of one of his eyes.

She leaned closer, nicking his eyelid with lethal precision, just to show him how skilled she really was. He reeked of sweat, beer and terror. Delilah had once thought fear did not have a smell.

"Talk. Now."

Behind her came a thud as Dante swiftly dispatched the rogue he'd been questioning, then she smelled a pine-and-lemon scent as he swooped towards her like an overgrown bat.

She twisted to glare. "You're invading my personal space. This one's mine."

The thief began babbling. "There's an abandoned water mill along the River Sith on the Pelenan border – there's a trapdoor hidden in the dust carved with – Old Pelenan runes – it – it leads to a tunnel and that's the start of the trail – please, please, spare me!"

"Don't spare him," Dante drawled.

Delilah rammed her sword into his skull. She stood and smirked at the Valian King.

"And don't look so pleased with yourself," he snapped. "Come on. We need to slaughter every miserable piece of filth in this place before we leave, and I want to reach that mill before dawn."

Delilah wrenched her sword free and together she and Dante unleashed themselves on the other men. They fell beneath the artfully honed blades like stalks of wheat, and only when every surface had been sprayed with blood and they stalked from the carnage site did Delilah speak.