Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

about that. Some- • one must be talking. Angelo decided it was well past time for another purge.
    "The Patriarch couldn't just die," he said finally. "He had to disappear. Completely. I did what I felt necessary. How . . . ?"
    Finn smiled easily. "They're my people first, and only yours second. Now; what about these refreshments you offered? I confess I'm really rather parched . . ."
    Angelo busied himself arranging for his secretary to bring cold drinks and a few suitable snacks. He never kept such things actually in the office. Angelo was prone to comfort eating in times of stress, and he was trying to watch his weight. There seemed to be lot more stress in his life just recently, since he joined up with Finn. The refreshments arrived quickly, his secretary all adither at being in the presence of the legendary Durandal. Finn favored her with an autograph, and she all but swooned before Angelo ordered her out. He didn't feel like eating, his mouth was still sore and the iced tea stung his lips, but Finn ate and drank enough for both of them as he listened to Angelo's report on Donal Corcoran's condition, and his expressed disinterest in the Church. Angelo somewhat exaggerated Douglass words and actions, to put himself in a better light, but Finn just nodded, and smiled slightly as Angelo angrily recounted being hit by the King.
    "Serves you right," he said flatly. "You should have known better than to goad an ex-Paragon. And he is the King, after all. For now. You can go and talk to Corcoran again, after he's had a little more time to realize how helpless he is, trapped in that madhouse. I'll send him some nice presents, a little care package of comforts and goodies, just to remind him who his friends are. And then . . . well, prisoners will make all kinds of deals, for the promise of freedom. Of course, once he's safely in our hands . . .'
    "He'll be more of a prisoner than ever," said Angelo.
    Finn smiled dazzlingly. "Quite."
    They sat in silence for a while. Finn had no more business with Angelo, but he seemed in no hurry to leave. He finished off the food and drink, enjoyed the chair's various massage functions, and played happily with the executive toys on the desk. Angelo fumed quietly for a while, and then suddenly realized he was wasting an opportunity. So he made an effort, and turned the full force of his famous charm on the Durandal. If he was ever to be free of his senior partner, he needed to understand what went on inside Finn's head. What made him tick. Maybe then he would be able to see how best to manipulate Finn, and steal away his power and his people bit by bit, without him even noticing. And then . . . then . . .
    So Angelo talked easily with Finn, praising and flattering him without being too obvious about it, chattering entertainingly and maliciously about people they both knew, and generally did his best to get Finn to open up, and talk about himself. It was a hard task, but Angelo persevered. He felt he had to get something out of the day for himself, for his pride's sake. But it wasn't until they got around to Finn's long career as a Paragon, that the Durandal began to reveal something of the real man.
    "Why did you stay a Paragon so long?" said Angelo, carefully casual. He had a strong feeling that this was the vital question, the answer that might explain much. "It's an honorable occupation, of course, and there's good money to be made, by a sensible man. But it's not a pleasant job, and no career for the truly ambitious. So ... why did it take you so long to turn to your true vocation?"
    "I was . . . content, being a Paragon," said Finn. "It was a way of proving I was the best, in front of the whole Empire. And I quite enjoyed being worshiped and adored, and knowing the admiration and respect of my peers. But the rewards of the job, such as they were, began to pale as I grew older. I already had as much money as I'd ever need. And I was running out of challenges. It just wasn't . . . fun,
    anymore. No matter how many risks I took. But now . . . being a traitor and a villain is much more fun.
    To set myself against the whole damned Empire, to be my own man and to Hell with everyone else . . .
    That is what it truly means, to be the best. I should have done this years ago. It took Douglas's ingratitude to open my eyes to the true nature of things, and I shall reward him for that. By taking away everything he cares for and values, and destroying it right in front of him. Ah, Angelo; I