Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

attention, boy! One of these days, loath though I am to admit it, you're going to have to take over from me as head of the Family, and I won't have it said I didn't do everything in my power to ready you for that."
    "Far away may that time be. Father," said Valentine, and only a careful ear might have detected a note of sarcasm in his voice. "You do so much for me, and I never appreciate it. I have a few trifles about me that are said to boost the intellect and liberate the mind. Would you care to try a little something?"
    "No, I would not. I've never needed drugs to be smart. Show me how smart you are. Why do you think the Bitch wants to see us this time?"
    Valentine drew a flower from his sleeve. It had a long stem bristling with thorns, and its thick pulpy petals were black as night. He sniffed the flower appreciatively, then took one petal between his perfect teeth and pulled it free. He ate the petal slowly, savoring the juices.
    "The Empress has been most disturbed of late, ever since news came in of two newly discovered alien species outside the Empire with technologies at least the
    equal of our own. One would have been enough as a potential threat, but the prospect of two such species seems to have practically unhinged the poor dear.
    Then there's the cyberats, playing their disruptive little games in our computers, the clone underground spreading its proclamations everywhere you look, and let us not forget the elves, bless their black little hearts. The elves have been growing increasingly arrogant, not to mention successful, in their attacks of late. And of course there are always the endless court intrigues, with their plots and schemes and intricate designs. Some days at court you don't dare cough or scratch your ear for fear someone will take it as a sign to start something violent. Still, you don't need me to tell you that, Father."
    The Wolfe smiled briefly. It was not a pretty sight. "So, you have been paying attention, at least. They're all good answers, but which one would you pick?
    Where does the real danger lie for the Empress and for us?"
    Valentine Wolfe ate another black petal, chewing thoughtfully. Bright spots of color glowed on his pale cheeks like badly applied rouge, and his dark eyes saw many things. "The aliens are too distant a threat to be worrying our dear Majesty yet. Perhaps we should just introduce the aliens to each other and then stand well back while they fight it out. The cyberats are too few and far between to be anything but a nuisance, and the clone underground lacks the funding necessary to emerge as & real political force. And the elves have been surprisingly quiet these past few days. Obviously that won't last, but I would have to say they've done nothing outrageous enough just recently to justify our dear Majesty's abrupt summons. No, I fear it's more simple than that. Dear Lionstone has caught someone of standing with his pants down or his hand in the till, and she wants us to watch and take notes while she has something extremely
    unpleasant and instructive done to him. La belle dame sans merci. Our Lady of Pain. The Iron Bitch."
    Jacob Wolfe nodded slowly and flexed his great muscles. "Good. That's more like it. One of us is going to get the chop, and she wants us there to witness it and be reminded where the real power at court lies. Nothing new there, except that for once, I don't have a clue as to who it might be. And that is strange.
    There's usually some whisper going round where my agents can overhear it. So watch yourself when we get to court, boy. Keep your mouth shut and your veins clear, and take your lead from me."
    "Of course, Father." Valentine finished the last petal and began to chew slowly at the stem, ignoring the thorns. A thin trickle of saliva mixed with blood ran down his chin as he smiled, and Jacob Wolfe looked away.
    *
    The antechamber to the Imperial Court was grand enough in its own right to put any other court to shame. A huge open chamber of gleaming steel and brass, it stretched away in every direction for as far as the eye could comfortably see, the vista broken here and there by tall intricately worked pillars of gold and silver, set at regular intervals as much for the effect as anything else. And still the packed crowd filled the antechamber from wall to distant wall.

    Everyone who was anyone, or thought they might be, came to court when the Empress held audience to shake the hand of those in favor or snub those who weren't, to make