The First Cost Of The Deal (Part 1)

The First Cost Of The Deal

The fire raged. It was a gloomy night and oppressive fog surrounded Hett. If it hadn't been for the blazing fire emitting its bright red glow, Hett would not have been able to see ten paces in front of him. The evening reminded him of his first encounter with the dragon that had so dramatically changed his life. It was fitting that it was such a bleak evening for him to meet the dragon again.

Almost ten years to the day had passed since that fateful night. So much had changed for him since then. While he and the other three Lords were still not recognised as legitimate house leaders by the Matriarchs of the other houses, Hett had managed to prosper. His power, influence and wealth had all grown. He had been building and training an army that was beginning to rival that of the most powerful of the Matriarchs. War would come at some point in the not too distant future and his house would be more than ready for it.

Hett himself had changed greatly. He had not known what embedding the dragon scale into his arm would do to him, but the dragon had been right, it was a great gift. He was stronger and faster than anyone on his lands. He could see through people in a way that had come to terrify those that lied to him and awed those who saw it happen. Somehow, he just knew things about anyone he cared to focus on for only a few moments. Their desires, their motivations, the things about themselves that they tried to keep most secret. This ability had served him the best so far and was one of the main reasons for the prosperity of his house. Also, he had not been sick in any way since accepting the dragon scale. His health was beginning to become legend. He appeared to not have aged even one day in almost ten long years.

There were other changes too. All of his emotions had become stronger, even overpowering at times. His love and joy, his passion, lust and anger. His rage was also becoming legendary. He had managed to control it for the most part. He had beaten people, beaten them severely, but he had never killed in pure rage. Not until last night.

Apart from not appearing to age, there were other physical changes. He had more than one scale on his sword arm now. Each time a new one began to grow, it itched abominably. It was all he could do to not tear it out. Slowly, his fingernails were starting to take on the shape of claws and his teeth were growing sharper. His body was also now completely devoid of any hair.

His family had grown too, he now had three sons. All were learning well and would be ready to lead in time, even if something ill should befall Hett unexpectedly. He also had a daughter and his beautiful wife had died.

Looking down into the tiny bundle he held in his arms, he was almost overcome with remorse. His tiny daughter slept peacefully in his arms, oblivious to what had happened last night and to what would happen to her tonight. Hett drank in the sight of her, feeling her calm restfulness and allowing it to fill him. What was done was done, he had to move on. He knew this night would come. There was never any way to avoid it.

When Asengel had fallen pregnant the last time, Hett had been secretly devastated. He had three sons and did not want any more children on account of his bargain, but his lust and love for his wife meant he simply could not stay away from their shared bed. He hid his disappointment from his wife as well as he had hidden the changes in him from her. She truly had no idea. Thinking of his wife woke a very dull ache deep inside him. He knew it should have been much stronger, but something had broken in him when she died. He could picture her now, still in their bed, still covered in blood... He would need to do something about that when he got back home tonight.
His daughter suddenly kicked him through the thick blanket she was wrapped in. Hett looked down on her praying inside that she would stay asleep this night. She tossed and turned shortly, made a brief fitful sound and then went back to blissful sleep. Hett breathed a deep sigh of relief. What he had to do tonight was going to be near impossible as it was, he wasn't sure he could do it if his daughter was awake. For a moment, Hett struggled to remember his daughters name, Ashel. Hett had tried to not get too attached to his little girl as he knew what would come, but he had been drawn to her in a different way than he had to his sons. His sons he had wanted to teach, to help grow, to make them men and rulers. All he wanted to do with his daughter was protect her from all the bad things in this world. Now, he was on the brink of giving her to probably the worst thing of all. Still, after last night he doubted that she was truly any safer with him.

Hett knew, somewhere in himself, that no-one was safe around him any more. He was truly changed and if the changes continued as they were, he was unsure of what he would become capable of. No further proof was needed for Hett after what he had done last night. He had killed his wife in a fit of rage and it had not been clean, not at all.

He had been avoiding his wife since she had stopped breast feeding his daughter the week before. He never had told her about his night with the dragon and the deal he had made. He dreaded doing so, but fear that the dragon would think he was holding out on his end of the deal and the possible disaster that could come because of that was more than enough to convince him that it was time to confess all and hope for her understanding. Either way, he would have to give up his daughter, he just hoped to not lose his wife in the process.

He had come up to their bedroom late last night to find his wife holding their daughter in bed and watching her with so much love in her eyes that Hett had almost lost his resolve. Instead of walking away, he steeled himself to what he had to do and approached his wife with as much tenderness as he could muster. “Beloved,” he had whispered, “there is something I must tell you.”

Asengel could tell immediately that what her husband had to say was serious. Concerned, she asked, “What is it husband? You look as though your ancestors have haunted you this evening.”

“What I have to tell you wife, you will not want to hear. You must though. It affects all we hope to do for our future and the future of our children.”

“Then tell me husband and tell me quickly. You are scaring me.”

Hett could see the fear growing in the beautiful eyes of his wife, but that fear could not possibly imagine what he had to tell her. “First, you must understand, what I am about to tell you is for the good of our family, for a better future for our children. You know I am ambitious, probably more ambitious than I have any right to be. That being said, I have done something to take us great steps closer to making those ambitions become a reality.”

“I know all you do is for the right reasons husband, sometimes I do not completely agree with you, but you are the Lord. I always support you. What could you do that could possibly be so bad that I would not like to hear it if it is for the betterment of our house?”

She tried to hide it, but Asengel had begun to shake slightly, her fears were beginning to get the better of her. Hett reached out and put an arm around her and she leaned into him. He gently took their daughter out of her arms and held both his wife and daughter to him as he began to talk about that night ten years ago for the first time. He confessed to his wife about the voice in the night, about the meeting with the dragon. He told her what he had been offered but did not mention the price yet. He could feel his wife growing continuously more tense under his arm as he continued his story, especially when it came to the part about embedding the dragon scale into his arm. Once he had finished that part, his wife apparently could take no more. Breaking away from his touch she said disbelievingly, “How can you expect me to believe this? Do you know how crazy you sound right now?”

Slowly, carefully, Hett got to his feet still holding the baby in his arms. He gently carried her over to her crib and ever so softly set her down in it so that she would continue to sleep. Looking up at his wife he said, “I knew you would never believe this, but I do have a way to prove it to you. I have been dreading this day for such a long time, but now I must show you this.” Hett walked over to stand next to his wife who was still sitting on the bed. He rolled up the sleeve on his right arm and held it out so she could clearly see the scales that were now covering the inside of his forearm. To prove his point once and for all, Hett took out his belt knife with his other hand and without hesitation slammed it straight into the scales that were glittering in the light from the fireplace.

Asengel barely managed to keep her shocked noise down to a whimper. If it weren't for the baby sleeping only a few feet from them Hett was certain she would have screamed, such was the look of abject horror on her face. Tears sprang to her eyes and her hands covered her mouth as Hett moved his scaly arm closer to to her so that she could see that the knife had not even left the faintest of scratches. She began to back away from him slowly, half crawling as she looked at him in a way he had never seen before. “What have you done? What are you?”, she asked indignantly.

“Wife it is as I said, what I have done was for the prosperity of us all. I am still your husband, still the man you married twelve years ago. Can you not see that? I am only stronger, faster, smarter, better than I was all those years ago. Because of this gift I have been able to make our house grow into the power it is quickly becoming!” With his improved insight, he knew his wife was incredulously full of disbelief. She wanted to recoil from him and just run, but she had a question that needed answering and he knew the answer would make her despise him.

“Very well husband,” she almost spat as she attempted to regain her composure. “You have told me what you were given, but you have not yet told me the cost. Gifts like these must have a very high price indeed, so tell me, what did you give up for them? Did it cost you your soul, or have you damned us all with this madness?”

Hett did not like the tone of voice his wife was using with him. It was dripping with disdain and contempt. She did not understand and would understand what he was about to tell her even less. He felt his anger growing in him and tried to suppress it without much success. His rage was growing dangerous in him again and he wasn't sure how well he could control himself if this continued much longer. He made himself go cold to what he was about to confess. He hated himself for what had to be done, what he had to tell her, but he had hoped that of all people his wife, his lover, could understand him and his heart. In a final desperate attempt to reason with her he pleaded, “Please Asengel, I need you to understand. This is for the benefit of us all. There must be sacrifices if we are to come to have the power we need to stand up to the Matriarchs. They will never accept me as a ruler except through that power. If we are to grow, thrive and prosper, we need to do more than they would ever dream of doing themselves.”

“Enough Hett,” she seethed. Again, if not for the baby, she would have been screaming at him. “I will hear no more of your nice words, just tell me the cost, plain and simple. I have the right as your wife to know this. You should have told me all this years ago, there is no way for you to make up for that. So, just tell me. Tell me now!”

The coldness in her shocked Hett and hurt him deeply. Never before had she been like this. He would never had even guessed she had it in her. He felt the desire to lash out rise in him further. He felt like a wounded animal, trapped in a cage of his own making. There was nothing to be done now except to tell her what was to come. He made himself as hard as he could inside and began his final confession to his wife. “It has not cost me my soul, though you may think me soulless for what I have done. I have not damned us all either. In time, it is my hope that our descendants will forgive me. I hope against hope that you can forgive me too. You were right, the price is very high, higher than you would think me capable of paying. My ambition drove me to it and it cannot be undone. I did not know how much it would hurt me until this moment, but it is time to pay the dragon. The cost is this, all daughters of my line, from direct daughters to granddaughters, even great granddaughters for as long as I live, must be given to the dragon as soon as they are strong enough to no longer breast feed. Our daughter is now no longer breast feeding, so now I must give her to him. She will be his for as long as she lives and we will know nothing of her fate. We will not know what life, or death for that matter, she is being surrendered to.”

Hett could feel the disbelieving rage that was welling up in Asengel and was not surprised by the cold fury that was in her eyes when he looked into them. She turned that fury on him with its fullest force when she said, “You monster! How could you? You are talking about our daughter, our flesh and blood! You came to our bed, came to me, knowing this? How could you? Oh, well I can tell you now that this bed is no longer welcome to you husband!”

The tempest inside Asengel was growing by the second, Hett was amazed the baby was still asleep but knew she wouldn't be much longer if the scene continued. He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. “You disgust me,” she raged. The baby wailed in response to her outburst and a colder, more dangerous light was now in her eyes. “Well, I can tell you right now that I will not just let you take her and give our daughter to a beast! I intend to make sure you father no more children on me. If you come to this bed again then I swear, I shall take off your manhood! You are not worth the air you breathe Hett, that you are willing to give up an innocent babe.... Abhors me!”

Fury was beginning to grow in Hett to a point where he wasn't sure he could contain it much longer. Someone was going to be very badly hurt if he didn't find a way to calm down. Asengel wasn't finished though and he had to turn away from her fury and words that were cutting him so deeply. “You beast! You are nothing more than a beast! You claim you do this for us all? You make me sick! You could not be more selfish if you tried! We would all be much better off without you, the world would have been better off if you had never been born. In fact...”

Her voice had unexpectedly trailed off and Hett turned just in time to see Asengel rushing at him with the belt knife he had carelessly left on the bed raised to strike him down. Incredulous, it was only instinct that saved him from what could have been a killing blow. As she attempted to drive the knife deep into his chest he used the underside of his right arm to block the attack. The knife struck the scales and did not harm him, he didn't even feel pain from the blow itself, but it did not stop her from trying again. With a howl of pure fury Asengel came at him again. She slashed wildly at him and again Hett was forced to react quickly, barely dodging a blow intended for his throat. Asengel had overcommitted this time and fell off the bed. Like a furious lioness protecting her cub she lashed out again though and this time Hett felt the knife cut through his boot and split the skin on his left leg. Roaring with pain Hett lashed out with his right leg, trying to catch her stomach viciously with the toe of his boot. Asengel was faster than he expected though and managed to just roll out of the way and get to her feet.

Seeing red with pure fury, Hett roared at his wife, “How dare you, I am your husband, your LORD!”

“I dare this and more my lord! I will be Matriarch tomorrow and lead this family a better way. I will do it while your ashes are still cooling from the funeral pyre.”
She lunged toward Hett again and this time targeted his heart. Hett was ready and balanced this time though. Full of rage and heartbreak, he parried the blade away and struck with his right fist, driving it deep into her belly. The knife fell from her hands as she crumpled in a heap at his feet. He could hear her trying to desperately get her breath back, the wheezing reminding him of a dog with kennel cough. The sound of his daughter still wailing intruded into his awareness though and he could feel his heart almost shattering in his chest as he began to take in the scene before him. In a rush, his rage evaporated and all he could see and feel was the distress of his daughter and the pain of his wife.

He dropped down onto his knees beside his still crumpled wife and reached out to her as tears began to roll down his face. “You have no idea how sorry I am, please forgive me. I was wrong to pay such a price,” he begged his wife. “I cannot undo what I have done, please understand, if I do not do this then we will all be destroyed.”

Asengel barely managed to bring her eyes up to look at the husband she had so quickly come to despise. Finally regaining enough breath to speak she croaked, “There can be no forgiveness for this Hett, you are giving up a defenceless, innocent babe. Are you so twisted that you can't see how wrong this is?”

“I know wife, I know all too well. The price must be paid though.” He took his wife firmly by the shoulders and brought her up with him to their feet. Embracing her resisting body he said, “Come Asengel, let us comfort our daughter and spend one last night with her.” Hett could not stop the pain inside him at what he was saying, but he knew he had to do this. His entire family was at risk now, not just one daughter. With tears silently rolling down his face he began to turn them both towards their still wailing daughter.

Sharp pain exploded in Hett's stomach and he doubled over, shocked at its intensity. Asengel pulled away from his now feeble grasp and kicked him where she had already cut his leg forcing him to tumble to one knee. She sprinted to where the knife had fallen from her grasp only moments ago. Belatedly Hett realised that she had just caught him totally off guard and kneed him in his groin with all the strength she could muster. His awareness filled with the throbbing pain from his groin and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. The sharpness of the pain from his leg surprised him. He had no idea she had managed to cut him so deeply. Too late, he could feel the blood flowing freely from that cut. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Asengel pick up the fallen knife and begin to pace over to him, a lioness now stalking her prey.

It was Hett's turn to struggle for breath. His wife could sense his momentary weakness and was made bolder by it. “Spare the tears husband, you will not need them much longer.” With that statement, she lunged again. Desperate, Hett rolled out of the way. Asengel was still quicker than he anticipated and managed to keep up with him, only one step away. Hett lurched to his feet as Asengel struck out once more, the knife gleaming in the firelight as the point again seemed to hone in on Hett. Suddenly Hett felt his left leg slide out from under him as he slipped on the blood that was flowing through his boot. The slip saved him though as instead of the knife biting deep into his chest, it went into his right hip. His vision went into a white haze as he felt the tip of the blade break off in his hip bone. Pain turning again to rage, Hett somehow got to his feet again as his wife made another attempt to kill him. Something broke inside Hett and he went as cold as death.

All the pain suddenly evaporated and he felt strong and sure of his body. His awareness barely registered this though as his focus was purely on the now damaged knife that was coming at him again. Cold fury boiled inside Hett and this time he did not wait until Asengel could strike to her advantage. He struck out with his right hand and he felt her tiny wrist crack under the vicious blow. The knife clattered to the floor and bounced away, leaving a small smear of his blood on the floor stones. Again, all this barely registered to Hett, it was as though his mind was cataloguing all the minutiae for recollection later. Hett was consumed by his rage and barely gave Asengel time to whimper before catching her with a full force backhand across her face. Teeth and blood flew out of her once beautiful mouth as she fell in a heap to the floor, dazed and barely concious.

Hett felt as though burning ice was running through his veins such was his rage inside. His heart was burning the same way chilled skin burns when first touching too hot bath water. His fury coated his heart, shielding him from any sense of wrong doing or remorse. He was pure anger, cold to his core and now out of control. A tiny alarm bell sounded in the back of Hett's mind but he paid it no heed, this new feeling of numbing rage had consumed him and he felt a purer sense of purpose that would not be denied. Again he lashed out with a vicious kick and this time Hett connected. A sound not dissimilar to that of roasted chicken wings being broken apart came to his ears as he felt Asengel's ribs collapse under the impact. A half choked, half gargled grunt was the only noise that came from her still folded body and somehow, Hett wasn't satisfied by that.

He reached down, taking a fistful of flowing blond hair and pulled her to her feet none too gently. Asengel was feebly trying to untangle her hair from his fierce grip as he slapped her harshly across the face and let her fall onto the bed. The slap seemed to have brought her a little more to her senses and she tried vainly to dig her nails into the skin around his neck as he mounted her, putting all his weight onto her chest not caring how his knees pressed into her shattered ribs. An airy gasp escaped her bloodied mouth at this new onslaught of pain. Hett though was untouched by her agony, cloaked in his cold rage. Numbness was a blanket draped over all of his thoughts and emotions.

Suddenly, from somewhere deep within him one thought began to grow. It started out as little more than a mote in his awareness but rushed up in him like a volcano erupting and seemed to burst out of him. “WHY?” he roared. He did not know who he was asking, he didn't even know what he was asking that question to. Again he roared the word, all the pain and fury inside given voice in one simple word. No answer came to him, not from within or without. One last time he howled the word, his voice taking on an almost hysterical edge.

The only sounds that came to him after that final visceral howl were that of the fire crackling away and his daughters ceaseless wailing. Despairing for the answer to a question he himself didn't fully understand, Hett almost missed his wife's final words coming to his improved hearing. They came in ragged gasps, broken by the wet sound of air being painfully taken into blood filled lungs. If it weren't for his unnaturally good hearing he would have had to put his ear right next to her mouth to make out any words, but with a little focus, Hett could hear her from where he was perched on top of her. She appeared to be saying the same few words over and over, “You said, as long as you lived, as long as you lived.”

She was repeating herself over and over again, her mind apparently no longer able to cope with what had happened tonight. In between repeating her words her breaths became more laboured. Life was slowly fading from her. She managed to turn her head up towards him and open her eyes. The face that he looked down upon barely resembled the wife he had always found so beautiful. Blood, broken bones, bruising and swelling made her almost unrecognisable. She was still repeating herself and Hett found he did not like the way she looked at him. Her eyes seemed to accuse him of all the same things she had said earlier tonight leading up to this point. Combined with the same words being said it was more than Hett had any temperament to deal with, “Shut up,” he commanded. She did not.

“I said shut up!” Hett roared. The life was slowly fading from her eyes and her words were becoming more slurred, yet she continued repeating herself. Not knowing whether she was doing it on purpose or was just incoherent made Hett even more irrational. “Shut up!” he almost screamed as he wrapped his hands suddenly and firmly around her throat. Her eyes seemed as though they were going to pop out of her head as he choked her. It did not matter to Hett, all that mattered to him was that she was no longer speaking. Gagging, trying and failing to cough, but no longer speaking. She was feebly trying to pull his hands from around her neck, but she may as well have been a flea trying to knock over a castle wall for all her strength. Slowly, the pathetic resistance in her stopped, the gagging stopped, everything stopped. Hett never did know how long he choked her like that, but when he let go Asengel was dead and he could see the imprints on her once fine and slender neck of his thumbs where they had crushed her wind pipe.

Her eyes still stared at him though, empty and lifeless. They accused him of killing her. A new fountain of rage and heartache welled up in him and he couldn't bear those eyes just staring at him. Hett felt as though a whirlwind was rising in him, howling through his mind. Hett closed his eyes and could almost see the gale forming in his mind. It was grey and shapeless, howling madly inside his head. Slowly though, that greyness began to take a shape, the howling began to become words. Hett reached for it, his awareness possessed with having to know what was now spiralling through him. Abruptly the grey, howling mass took on its final form and it chilled Hett to his core. It was Asengel, grey, battered and beaten, staring at him with lifeless eyes. She pointed at him and the howling became her screaming, screaming his name and calling him murderer.

Hett screamed in pure emotional agony, “Stop! Leave me alone!”. He lashed out, unable to contain himself. He could see and hear his fists rising and falling but he could not feel them. He couldn't stop them even if he tried, and he didn't. Distant noises came to him, the muffled sounds of his fists hitting the bedding intermingled with the wet sounds of his fists hitting something else. Again and again he pounded, the sounds of the bedding tearing under his thrashing and other sounds that he refused to even register becoming more and more distant to him, his arms swinging up and down like distant hammers. Somehow, with each of those strikes, the image in his mind grew less ominous, held less power over him and the howling grew just a little quieter. Like a drowning man swimming for the surface one last time, Hett could feel the relief that was coming with the use of his arms in such a primal way and began to focus on it as much as was possible. Slowly, surely, his arms became more real to him, somehow a part of him again instead of something just attached to him.

He desperately held onto that new found connection to his arms, focused on the pumping of his muscles, the feel of the impact whenever his fists hit something. The feel of the air rushing over his skin as he struck again and again and the feel of his fingernails biting harder into his palms with each of those impacts. He began to feel as though he was regaining control, the image of Asengel was fading taking the terrible, accusing howl with it. As he grew in strength, he struck out harder, feeling his control returning faster. It began to get very quiet, very quickly. He could only barely see that grey form of his now dead wife. Hett roared in a purely bestial way, completely incoherently, and lashed out with both his fists at the same time. The moment his fists made contact, it suddenly became deathly silent. The howling had ceased and Asengel's ghost was gone.

Hett existed inside his own personal bubble. Nothing from the world around him intruded on this new mental zone he had discovered for himself. All was quiet, blissfully so, and then the bubble burst. All the emotions he had somehow managed to keep outside of himself for a brief moment of peace rushed into him all at once. He began to shake uncontrollably. His eyes filled with tears as he looked down on the broken body of his wife. The wailing of his daughter intruded on his own personal misery and despairing, Hett simply wept silently. The tears fell down his face, hot and real against his skin.

Through his blurry eyes, Hett looked at what had once been his beautiful wife. All that was in front of him though was a battered wreck of a woman. He truly had grown in strength over the years, no normal man could do the damage he had apparently inflicted with just fists. He could make out some of the features that had once made his wife so beautiful, but they were almost completely lost in the destruction he had wrought. Suddenly disgusted, Hett wiped away the tears that had stopped flowing and got off the bed. Slowly, he walked away from his now mangled wife and went over to where his daughter lay screaming in her crib. Ashel had tiny tears running down her chubby cheeks and Hett could not help but reach out in an attempt to comfort his distressed daughter.

As his fingertips brushed her cheek though, he left a smear of blood on his daughters face and Hett recoiled his hand in shock. Without hesitation or thought, Hett licked his thumb clean and then began to clean away the blood that so badly marred his beautiful daughters face. After each little wipe to clear away some of the blood on Ashel's face, he would lick his thumb clean and keep cleaning up his daughter. Eventually though, his daughters face was as clean as it could possibly be but Hett had progressed from licking his thumb to licking the rest of his fingers and hands to clean them. Hett had not even realised what he had been doing until his mouth touched the scales on his arm and the wrongness of their feel in his mouth jolted him into awareness.

Shakily, Hett quickly threw off the outer layer of his clothing after realising it was covered in blood. He gathered his still distressed daughter into his arms and went over to one of the two chairs beside the fireplace. He curled up into the chair cradling his daughter tenderly in his arms. Hett was vaguely aware of his wounds, but was certain he would be fine. Slowly, Ashel settled into a fitful sleep in Hett's arms and he wasn't too far behind. As he began to doze off, Hett was trying to figure out what exactly the most disturbing point of the evening was. As he finally went into a restless sleep full of tormenting dreams, he decided it was the blood. Not that there was so much of it, but how he had enjoyed the taste of it. The worst part of it all was, he wanted more.

Hett shivered at the memory of the night before and forced himself out of his reverie. He stared into the still raging fire and waited, its bright red glow soothing him. It somehow managed to take away the longing for the taste of blood which had lingered with him ever since the night before. The wait didn't last much longer though before he could hear a sound familiar to him from ten years ago. First far away, then rapidly getting closer, the unforgotten sound of massive bellows being pumped came to his ears. The dragon was coming for his prize.