Chapter 3: Chapter Three.

Agace suddenly came to awareness with a rope choking her and a pair of shaking petite hands trying to pry the rope off her neck. She was lying on the finely carpeted ground of ‘her’ room, or rather the room of the mortal vessel Absolon had chosen for her.

“Please my lady you can’t leave me,” her personal maid, Constance, sobbed as she struggled and finally succeeded to pull the rope from Agace’s neck. Agace sucked in a breath of air and then choked as the air went down her throat. Constance collapsed with relief next to Agace on the floor. Her sobs turned less desperate but no less sad.

“My lady your father wouldn’t have wanted this. You are the only child he had. The king will choose a good husband for you, you still have so much to live for.”

Agace collected herself and took her mental bearings. Absolon had deprived her of her Godly powers and at the same time had given her all of the memories of this vessel before she possessed it. Her name was Agace Martel. She was the only daughter of the richest man in Strombreaker city with the execption of the king. At least he was the richest man before he died an untimely death. As Pons Martel died with no legal male heir his vast estate fell to Agace. The laws of the kingdom of Nevares did not allow for a woman to inherit. The Martel family fortune was therefore being held in trust by the King.

As Agace had no known male relatives, the question of her marriage also fell to the king. In two months, it would be her sixteenth birthday and the King would fix a marriage for her, to one of the eligible bachelors of the kingdom’s nobility.

Constance and the rest of the household staff probably thought this suicide attempt was from a combination of grief at her father’s death and the prospect of an unknown man becoming her husband. After all, Agace’s vessel had been a timid person who Pons Martel had not let socialise with the other aristocrats in the city. In truth, Absolon must have orchestrated this near-death experience so that Agace could cross over into the mortal world. Only at the border of death are such things possible.

Having somewhat caught her breath Agace tried to stand, groaning as she did so. Her room was extravagant. It had a large four-posted bed that the finest crafter had made from rare wood. The crafter had even etched magical runes to encourage restful sleep into the headboard. The carpets were all imported from the Empire and the curtains were made of silk brought out of the far east by the trade ships of Leatus.

Stumbling towards a pitcher of water kept next to the bed, Agace huffed in frustration. Absolon had made her a mortal, or at least for the most part mortal. She had to eat, drink and sleep. She could no longer snap her fingers and have the world move as she willed. He had left her the ability to see the potential in mortals. The power to see the hypothetical best version of the person. Apart from that though the only power she had was to call upon the one favour that soul owed her.

Thinking of the soul, she supposed she would have to call him Erec now, Agace grimaced. She had to somehow get Erec to fall in love with her. Agace fumed. What a preposterous condition to give her. She had annoyed Absolon too much in the last few centuries, but still this was just too much! When she made her way back to the heavenly abode she would cry to her older sister.

‘Let’s see how he enjoys sleeping with his hunting hounds for a few thounsand years,’ Agace thought vindictively to herself.

It was raining outside the window of her room. It almost always was raining in Stormbreaker. The Barrier Straight kept the worst of the Everstorm away from the city but being this far north and west, Nevares was doomed to a soggy existence. Agace stopped pointlessly musing about the weather. She was in a real mess. She couldn’t very well get Erec to fall in love with her when she did not know where the man was. She had not paid attention to where she had dropped him off in the world. She had just found a recently dead vessel to deposit his soul in. All she knew was his name. She also doubted that the project of seducing him would fare well if she allowed herself to be married off to some Nevaresian aristocrat.

The problem was that she had no ability to solve her issues. When one is a god there is no call for learning the basic skills a mortal needs to survive. She could not earn her own keep or even cook for that matter. She needed the comforts that came with being a wealthy noble. If she fled the city into the wild, she would be dead within a few days. It would also grate to have all of Pons Martel’s, her father by circumstance, work lost to the king’s care forever.

Agace needed a plan. She needed to find Erec, get him to fall in love with her, and avoid a marriage. She had to do this all in two months or less. First Things first then.

Agace, snapped her fingers to attract her distraught maid’s attention, “Constance I need a mirror.”

Constance was shocked by the sudden change in demeanour of her mistress. Agace seemed calm and collected, apart from the developing bruise on her fine neck. To go from suicidal to this in a few moments was bizarre.

Confused she still hastened to obey, “yes my lady.” Constance shot off to an adjoining room. She came back with a finely wrought silver hand-mirror.

Taking it, Agace was shocked to find that this vessel looked almost exactly as she did in her form as a goddess. The discovery came with a new wave of fury. Absolon must have been planning this for a long time to create the conditions for the birth of this vessel. Agace was also relieved that she had made sure Erec would not remember her. If he did it would have raised too many questions. She was however still a radient beauty. That at least would make her task a little bit easier. It would also make it more difficult to extricate herself from the clutches of this marriage. Her hand would be considered a prize by most of the noble families of the kingdom. Technically Pons Martel had been the lowest of nobility. A mere knight. Only his money elevated him. If not for that perhaps the ‘weakness’ of Agace’s blood would hinder interest in her hand.

Pons Martel had been known as the fool knight. He had been knighted by the last king as a joke. In one of the many border wars Nevares had with Greater Leatus on the kingdom’s eastern border, Pons earned his knighthood. He was a common levy, no more than a boy. The enemy and Nevares’s troops were arrayed for battle. Two lines faced each other. It was close to the end of the war however, and the enemy soldiers were ordered to retreat after the merchant lords of Leatus decided that there was no longer any profit in continuing aggressions.

Just as the troops had turned to leave however Pons had snapped from the nerves of battle and began charging across the battlefield armed only with his pitchfork. This resulted in the appearance that the enemies were retreating out of terror. Running away from a single nevaresian peasant.

The king had been so amused that he knighted ‘the hero of the battle of Naesbrey’. He even gave the new knight a small fief in the northern part of the kingdom. It was a worthless piece of land that could not be cultivated, but it was a fief. Pons had never even visited the place in his life. What he had done was use his noble title to establish a trading company. He then built a massive network which traded with the Empire as well as Leatus in luxury goods.

Thirty years later Pons had died one of the wealthiest men in the kingdom. The nobility still sneered at him. He was barley considered nobility and was still called the fool knight and excluded from high society. That was why he had kept his daughter away from the upper circle of the city.

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Unfortunately, Pons had remained isolated from the levers of real power in the kingdom. His wife had died in childbirth, and he had never remarried. His entre business empire relied on him alone.

“My lady…” Constance said haltingly. She was still scared that Agace would try something to hurt her herself.

“Don’t worry Constance, I’ve figured it out. I am calm now,” Agace reassured with a smile.

Agace started to comb her hair. She had decided that to get out of this mess she would have to play the only card she had left. She did not have the skills to get out of this mess, but Erec most certainly did. She mentally sent a very carefully worded command through the aether to Erec. He would know what was required of him to pay off his favour. Agace smiled, who knows she might be able to have fun with this soul even though she was banished to teranis herself. The man was going to have to earn his second life.

___

Duke Roche cut into a bloody steak. He and his wife were having dinner in the dining room of their estate. They were dining alone as they had for the past few months. There were not even any servants present, at the instance of the Duke. He claimed that he wanted peace as he and his lady ate.

“The fool knight’s funeral was today,” Lady Roche offered as an attempt at conversation.

“I am aware,” said the Duke punctuating his sentence with another bite of his meal.

The duke was a fat man. Everything about him spoke of greed and gluttony. He was crusted with more jewellery than his wife. Behind his eyes though there was calculation.

“That fool’s daughter will have to be married off then a suppose,” the duchess coughed interrupting herself. After stilling she continued, “I wonder which house would be desperate enough to marry that commoner. She has money but such worldly wealth cannot compare to the purity of a bloodline.”

“That would not be a problem if the family already had a few wellborn heirs,” the Duke interjected.

“That’s true I suppose,” the duchess said with a nod, “all of the nobles that would apply to are married though.”

“That will not be a problem for long,” the duke replied with a smirk.

“What do you…” the duchess paled and stopped talking. Her eyes went wide with shock. She stared at her husband with horror and then fell to the floor. Her body spasmed. The duke finished his food and then wiped his lips.

“Sorry my dear, but you were in my way. Just like that fool Pons. At least that fool died easily. He was a common brat but he was too fat and juicy to leave alive, just like a prized goose.”

He stood and approached his now dead wife. He took a knee next to her body and composed himself. He warped his face through a few feigned looks of panic.

Settling on an appropriate face, he took a deep breath and shouted, “Help, guards get a doctor, oh heavenly abode no! Arianne please!”

Servants and guards swept into the room. The duke allowed himself to be pulled away. Now he could enter the penultimate phase of his plan. Nevares would have a new king and that fool’s daughter would provide the funds to make it happen. The duke allowed himself a small smile.

 

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