"Without a doubt, he's dead."
The words the doctor spoke sounded unbelievable to her. She hated him, that was certain; she prayed for his death every day. For eternal damnation for the monster who had once been her husband, whom she had once loved...
But now, when the longed-for moment had arrived, she couldn't believe it. She was certain that even death had no power over the demon, over the cursed force that had possessed his body.
And yet, at last, her prayers—nay, the prayers of all the subjects of the eternally cursed tyrant—had been answered! God had mercy on this patch of land and would no longer allow the innocent blood of his sheep to be shed. Good must prevail, and light will illuminate even the darkest night.
"Thank you, Lord, for finally hearing me!"
The duchess ordered Rodgar to be left as he died, on the marble floor. Tomorrow morning, she would summon people who would immediately burn the animal's body and scatter its cursed ashes to the wind, leaving absolutely nothing of it behind...
And the ring? She had always suspected it was what gave him this great power. It would melt along with the Prince's corpse. The fire must reach this infernal thing, and no one would ever be able to use its power again.
Now everything would be different... he was simply dead! He was surely roasting at the very bottom of hell. How she hated him! Hundreds of times she had prayed to the Lord for him to die. That dog, for whom nothing was sacred...
It was the first night in many years that the Duchess had fallen asleep peacefully, her heart filled with indescribable joy. Before falling asleep, she thanked God once more that this hell had finally ended, that the Lord had finally shown his great power, and now peaceful times would come.
She died happy.
The fire had consumed the entire palace; no one and nothing could survive after a semblance of Hellfire had swept through it. The Fire of Purification.
And the Duchess's ashes were snatched away by the wind and carried far away, ahead... south.
To the swamps—Rodgar smiled wickedly.
He was now galloping on his great, gray steed across a road buried under an immense amount of pure, white snow, undoubtedly... impassable.
"The Prophet will find no favor among his own people. Where should I go, Lord?"
He heard no answer, nothing, no voice echoing in his head; he simply knew his destination was the east. The barbaric, wild east.
He raced forward, tireless and strong, finding his way through treacherous drifts and majestic, snow-covered trees.
But hunger plagued him, and he knew he had to stop for a moment, lest his horse endure such a frantic run.
"I am hungry, thirsty... Lord, am I still human?"
He looked around. A few dozen meters away was a strange, unnaturally shaped snowdrift. He rode up to it and then noticed smoke billowing from somewhere to the side. He was standing in front of the hut of one of his hunters. Once he found the door, he took his horse by the bridle and went inside with it. "
Prince Rodgar..." said, or rather, muttered, the portly man standing opposite the entrance, aiming at the head of the uninvited guest.
"Put down your crossbow, Kemar." The prince remembered the name of his best huntsman perfectly. "You don't intend to shoot me, do you?"
Rodgar was looking at him closely, searchingly, so... now he could see!
"I see everything, you small, miserable man. You dream of pulling the trigger," he thought, "but you can't. No one can."
They stared into each other's eyes. Kemar was strong. Although his hands were shaking, he held the crossbow steady. The prince saw the clouds of hatred clouding his mind; the huntsman hadn't forgotten how he'd treated his wife. Rodgar had taken a liking to her at the feast celebrating a successful hunt and... he took her in. He simply ordered her to stay in the palace, from which she never left again. Just like dozens of other women.
Pain, suffering, but above all, savage hatred—it all boiled within him now, burning Kemar from the inside. Rodgar felt it perfectly and smiled. This was what he was feeding on.
He had won this battle; he had known from the start that he would. The man lowered his crossbow and sat on the wooden floor, leaning back against the wall, his head buried between his hands. "Come in, my Prince."
Rodgar found everything he needed in the forest hut. The huntsman had prepared a well-done venison for him, and a few bottles of wine were also found somewhere in the cellar.
"Kemar, I have good news for you. I'll stay here until this damn snow melts."
The prince lived in the huntsman's cottage until early spring, almost two months.
He believed he had spent that time usefully, to say the least. Kemar was now his most devoted, and for now only, servant... a servant, a tool, but also a disciple.
Every day they read the Gospel, Rodgar patiently explaining to him what he hadn't understood himself until recently, and in the process, delving into its meaning himself.
Kemar listened attentively, for how could he not listen to such a voice?
"My disciple, you already know many things, and I have taught you many things, but it is still nothing compared to the graces that will be bestowed upon you when our Lord finally emerges from the depths of the earth.
The snows have melted, I must move... to prepare the world for His coming.
" "I know, Master, do you want me to accompany you? Please, let me be with you when it begins!"
"No, Kemar, you are needed here. You are a hunter... just as fishermen were once meant to catch human souls, so you will hunt them. By the Lord's command, you will perform numerous signs, and your favorite will be the burned bodies and broken bones of the infidels!
But try to win as many of them over to our side as possible. These lands are inhabited almost exclusively by peasants; organizing them won't be difficult. They will see you as a great leader, but they are not to love you! They are to respect and fear you! Fear is your middle name now. Do everything here as I have commanded you, and at the right moment, I will summon you to me, along with your faithful army. Just remember, the most important thing is that they understand as you have understood... that they know, as you do, that this is the only possible path, the path to power. The rest carry emptiness! Teach them, you know the Gospel! Spread it far and wide, and all the souls you win will be counted to you."
Kemar watched him, listened, and knew he was the path that would lead him to glory. He knelt on one knee.
"Master, you can count on me. I will hunt as many as I can... and slaughter the rest," he added quietly.
The prince had stocked up lavishly. He had food for at least a month, as he no longer wanted to stop anywhere along the way. He would race through the wilderness, always eastward, until he reached his future capital, the place from which the procession would depart. A procession bringing death...
Just as he had predicted. The Lord had led him; he had never been here before, but he knew the direction perfectly.
"This is the last camp before the city; tomorrow will be the day of trial," he mused over the fire, ignoring the black smoke billowing towards him. For what was it compared to the all-too-familiar stench of burning human bodies?
When he lived with Kemar, he had pondered much. No, he wasn't afraid that people wouldn't follow him. He knew the Lord would speak through his lips, and therefore he didn't have to worry about tomorrow.
He woke very early; the day was cool, and rain was imminent, but that didn't matter. This day would be remembered, and remembered forever for a completely different reason.
He didn't know how he imagined his arrival in this vast, unknown city. Some grand entrance? No... there would always be time for that; first, he had to get his bearings.
Even from a distance, he could see the solid stone walls surrounding the fortress. But this time, they wouldn't need to be conquered. He headed straight for the gate.
The mounted knight aroused no suspicion; the guard gave him a mechanical glance and waved a careless hand, indicating that the road to the city lay open before him. Eregoth was not impressive. The first thing he saw were the utterly ordinary, mostly stone buildings, somewhat haphazardly arranged. A few uncertain glances, and he knew the road ahead led to the castle. Now he had to get to know this city, become a part of it, and only then could he begin.
He rode slowly along the main road, carefully observing his surroundings. He passed four taverns, two brothels, a carpenter's shop, an armory, and, of course, five, maybe even six, large churches. Finally, however, he reached the main castle. He smiled at the sight; his future residence looked quite pleasant. The fortress, situated on a small hill, was additionally fortified by a thick stone wall. Within the Prince's sight, three towers proudly rose from the castle, capable of housing a considerable number of crossbowmen if necessary. Beyond the wall was undoubtedly a garden, but Rodgar couldn't see that. In the center, however, stood a tall, representative part of the castle, likely residential. Adjacent to this, in turn, were two towers and several lower buildings, well-maintained like the rest. In short, the whole thing looked truly solid. For now, however, Radgar had nothing to look forward to.
In good spirits, he returned along the same route and decided to finally get to work. He had a task before him, one he intended to accomplish, for the glory of the Lord.
Now he observed more closely the people passing by obliviously. A common rabble, a herd of animals he so despised. Some women stood along the road, shouting at the top of their lungs, boasting about their wares. Peasants drove past in their primitive carts, pulled by emaciated mares or ordinary cows. The prince had to be careful not to anticipate the inevitable and start the slaughter with these wretched, worthless creatures. He restrained himself, however; he still had control now. He hurried toward the nearest tavern, handed his horse over to the stable boy dozing outside, and went inside.
He was immediately struck by the typical smell of such places, a mixture of cabbage, sweat, and beer.
Despite the early hour, the interior was dim and already relatively noisy. He ordered a beer that bore no resemblance to the drinks he usually drank and sat down in the corner. And the Lord had granted him the grace to truly listen... unfortunately, the mostly drunk guests weren't discussing anything important. Rodgar had to start thinking... but he preferred to pray.
"Lord, help me, for I don't know what to do. I don't know where to begin..." For a moment, the prince felt like nothing but insignificant dust again. – I want to spread the faith among unbelievers, I desire it, but...
"There are no buts!" He heard that low, ominous voice again. "You've been anointed, that's true, but that doesn't mean you're just a puppet now! Although... it would be so much simpler. You have your own mind and you must learn to use it! Not long ago you wanted to do great things, you despise the common people, and yet you... look at yourself! Great people aren't indecisive, they don't have moments of weakness! If you want to fulfill my will, read the Gospel. If only you understood what you're reading... Kemar, the man you chose for yourself, has already done more than you! Start thinking!
" "Lord, I...
" "Listen! What do you think happened in the palace when I first appeared to you?
" "I... I lost consciousness... but a moment later I woke up... and then everything caught on fire. I only remember leaving... that fire...
" "Fool! You understand nothing! Absolutely nothing... You were dead!
As dead as you can imagine. And you would have remained that way if it weren't for one woman... your wife." So good and saintly that she was consumed with hatred for you to the marrow of her bones. Yes, you were a monster, but what was hidden in her soul, almost holy even in life...? What is good? Ha! If she was good, then Heaven is on our side. You should have known long ago that what gives you the greatest strength and power is hatred. And the evil hidden behind the veil of love and apparent goodness is what gave you power the likes of which the world has never seen! Which, you wretch, you cannot harness...
Perhaps you will finally realize that it was she who made you what you are now... and will undoubtedly receive her eternal reward for it... Her hatred, her holy hatred, allowed you to return to life! She resurrected you! I could not have done that...
And the fire that accompanied it remains a mystery to me for now...
Most importantly, do you now finally understand what your greatest weapon is?
- Oh yes, Lord... thank you... thank you for speaking to me.
And then the Prince awoke, his head resting on the long-unwashed table. Now he knew how to bring glory to his Lord. He drank the last of the filthy beer and left to begin teaching... to spread a Teaching the world had never heard of before.
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