"My lord, I don't understand," Gideon said, his voice tense. "You have always been... harmless. Why risk everything to save a witch? The Church of the Dawn hunts them, the King burns them and your father supports this tradition."
I thought for a moment before answering. "Do you think the Silk City is a good place to live?"
"No," he admitted, hesitating.
"It's terrible. On a scale of zero to ten, what are my chances of winning the succession against my brothers?"
Gideon did not answer, but I already knew what it was. "Almost zero. So, I can only choose another path. One that gives me a chance to breathe."
My family, the Solaris, is rich and has many contacts. However, this wealth is not reflected in this fief given to me. This region was an important hub for silk production more than 200 years ago, but it was plundered and razed in a war.
Today, prosperity is just a name. Its proximity to trade routes still guarantees income. The population, however, is one of the poorest in the kingdom. That's why the land was purchased by new nobles, like the Solaris.
But having land or not changes everything, and I would not give up my advantages.
I didn't bother to argue that witches were not evil; it would be a waste of time. Gideon was a politician, and politicians care about power. The best way to convince him was with the idea that witches could be used to limit the Church.
The power of the Church was a constant problem for the Solaris Family and for the rest of the kingdom. As for the witches... they were so rare and mysterious that their stories alone were a threat.
"If my father realizes that witches possess extraordinary powers that can be used, his eye for gain will point him in the right direction. The execution orders will become a joke."
He looked at me, thoughtfully. "There's no guarantee of success, but it's not impossible either. Is it worth the risk?"
He didn't seem convinced.
I looked back at him. "Don't forget that both my wife and her guard are mages. And I am a summoner."
"The witch, even if she is a demon, wouldn't pose a threat, don't you think?" I looked at Gideon, waiting for his answer.
Gideon would never understand my true motives.
I tore up the paper I was holding and threw it into the fireplace. Gideon looked at me, confused, as I smiled.
"The witch was hanged at noon," he reported simply.
"Of course — how could anyone know the difference?" I replied, my hand still moving across the paper. "The condemned are always masked."
I had ordered the prison warden to find a criminal similar to Sue for the substitution. In addition to Gideon, Strefan and Eddard, everyone who was in the dungeon received coins to maintain secrecy.
Luckily, the fanatic caused everyone to move away from us when I negotiated with Sue, which made things easier.
Gideon suggested killing the witnesses, but I rejected the idea.
The conflict with the Church would come anyway, and I would not tolerate wasting valuable resources. Other witches would know that there is a city where they can live freely and be treated with respect.
Well, to be clear, I am sure that my magic would soon be seen by the clergy and that this would put us on a collision course. Having the witches on my side could be the way out.
Talent and human resources were my priorities for now, as well as economic prosperity, of course.
"Now," I said, "bring me an account of last year's trade and revenues, and a tally of the city's smithies, looms, and potteries. Everything."
I called the maid. "Tell Miss Sue to come see me."
Then, I went back to my work.
-
A few hours later, time passed in a strange way, accelerated by my decision. Now, Sue stood before me, in a guest room that I had designated for her training.
"My lord, to what do I owe the honor of your presence?" Her voice was soft, but carried a humility that was almost uncomfortable.
I prepared to respond. "I want you to become familiar with your own strength. Try again, until you can master it. Your power can become an advantage for our city."
"My power…" she murmured, her blue eyes shifting to the floor. "You mean… the devil?" Her hesitation was palpable.
"It's not a curse, Sue," I corrected her. I knelt to be at her level, and the proximity made me notice the fragility of her figure. "This is something of your own. Most people fear witches because they see in them something that religion condemns and reason doesn't understand. They are wrong."
"My lord, perhaps you do not know, but the power is truly demonic. But I would never, ever, under any circumstances, make a pact with them," Sue said firmly.
I looked her in the eyes, "So it is in your bloodline?"
She lowered her head and nodded affirmatively in response.
Fiend? Cambion? Tieflings?
The thought caused a lump in my throat.
She looked up, her eyes filled with tears.
"I have already accepted my fate. Please, burn me."
"Blood does not define a person's character," I said with conviction.
"The power is yours, not your ancestor's."
"But…" Sue tried to argue, but I interrupted her.
"I will guide you myself. I will not take 'no' for an answer."
I remembered her laugh in the dungeon.
"I didn't use my power to hurt anyone before," she said, her voice almost inaudible. "Only that man, but even so..."
"Self-defense is not a sin. Their fear comes from ignorance. They know witches are strong, but they cannot explain how. Unknown power is frightening."
She stared at me for a moment, her head slightly tilted. "You... you're not afraid of me, are you?"
Her blue eyes seemed to probe me, and the way she said "you" made my stomach twist in a way I couldn't identify. It was unwanted attention, an intimacy that put me on high alert.
I stood up, seeking some distance.
"No... because this power is yours and does not belongs to demonic entity. If anyone else had your strength, I would be much more nervous."
"Well," I said, breaking the tension. "Let's get to work. There's a job to be done."