The Noblewoman's Debts 2

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Henry returns after betraying some church precepts and has to cover for the noblewoman that he had gone to interview. He also ends up being a thief.

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The Noblewoman's Debts

Chapter 2

For SaltirePhoenix

By Draconicon

Henry was in a daze when he returned to his place of employment. The Fourth Church in Orlan's central district was a hub of financial activities, and whether one was involved in collecting church taxes, distributing church funds to other parts of the city, or - on rare occasions - interrogating those that were massively in violation of Church doctrine regarding taxation and living within one's means, one could find someone able to take care of those things in the Fourth Church. The bat had worked there for nearly five years, now, and had no illusions that he would see a transfer to any of the other branches anytime soon.

His thoughts were in the past, though not such a far distant past as that as he walked through the wood-framed doors and into the large atrium that served as the first chamber that most entering the Fourth Church would see. The bat slowed his pace as he mechanically turned around as he kept making his way to the main corridor, taking in the three stories of grandeur that marked the front of the church and the accounting offices that were lodged on the second floor. If he ever reached a high enough rank in the church, he would be given one of his own up there.

For now, however, he was destined for one of the group-work areas further back. He ignored the stairs and kept walking through the grand hallway, making his way further into the Fourth Church, and lost himself in thought as he walked along tiled stone and carved wooden walls.

I betrayed the church law...

The church-bat thought it for the first time since leaving Lady Priscilla's house, and he almost stumbled right into the wall as his new reality came crashing down around his shoulders. He caught himself, barely, and apologized to the couple of bear paladins that were walking the other way.

"Long day," he muttered.

In that moment, he half-expected to be arrested for not only lying, but lying to the paladins. Instead, the bears chuckled, giving each other smirking glances as if they shouldn't be surprised that a 'clerk' was so tired compared to them, and kept walking. He watched them go and shook his head, continuing along as his thoughts rushed ahead at a mile a minute.

I betrayed the church law.

This time, he didn't stumble as he remembered what had happened. Lady Priscilla was more than just another noblewoman. She was a warlock, a fiend that worshiped things that the church would exile her for if they didn't outright execute her. The punishments for doing what she did should have been enough to see her locked away forever, tossed into a dungeon until the headsman could be summoned. He should have told his superiors what he had discovered the instant that he had left her house, calling on the paladins to go and get her...

And he hadn't.

Henry barely realized that he'd made a turn, walking past the other accountants of the church to his desk at the far end of the room. He wobbled as he walked, apologizing as he passed between two desks.

He still remembered what she had done to him. The collar, the fucking, her feet pushing him down and locking him into a mindset of utter servility: it had all happened so fast, and he didn't know if he could ever recover from that. She had leverage over him, power, prestige, and the fact that she was a noblewoman meant that even if he accused her, she would be able to deny a bit of it. She wouldn't have to fight as hard to prove her innocence as he would have to fight to prove her guilt, and if he lost that fight...

Well, she was a powerful woman. She could come after him, particularly after the church cut him loose for being an embarrassment. He wouldn't even have that protection any longer, and that was all that he could lean on.

Henry reached his desk, not even remembering sitting down as he rested in his chair. A large pile of work had accumulated in his inbox while he was away, and he could only imagine the things that he'd need to sort out in the coming days. The bat shook his head, adjusted his tabard -

"You're finally back."

He looked up slowly. It was a peacock, though not one that he knew, and he wore an actual robe rather than the simple peasant garb that he and the others at his station were forced to use. Someone higher up, an assistant to some of the greater members of the church of Falina, then. He sat up a little straighter in his chair.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was distracted. How may I serve you?" Henry said.

"Horace wants to see you."

"...Horace. The...The Inquisitor?"

"That's right. He said that you were due to see him as soon as you came back. Why aren't you there already?"

"...I apologize. It was a long day talking to - talking to the nobles."

"Heh, socializing isn't for the likes of you. Don't worry; you'll figure that out before the first decade is out."

Henry put that out of his head. Horace, the Inquisitor. He remembered that the case had been assigned one already, but he hadn't realized that it would be him. This could complicate things slightly.

Or let you out. He wants to take down anyone that doesn't follow the church guidelines. You could get away with this. With him, you could get away with this.

But then he would be breaking his word...and the noblewoman was not necessarily going to let him get away with stabbing her in the back.

"Horace is waiting, you know. Better get a move on," the peacock said, adjusting his robes before turning around, his tail feathers splayed. "And make sure that you get those other accounts done. Don't want anyone to be kept waiting for Falina's judgment."

"Yes...yes, of course."

He nodded again, taking a few deep breaths as he tried to focus himself as he got to his feet. He felt like he was carrying a massive stone on his shoulders as he remembered what he had found out, and more, what he had agreed to.

Shield me from discovery, and you will earn so much more than these simple pleasures, Lady Priscilla had said as she trailed her toes up his shaft, all while dangling her tendrils of eldritch power around his own feet, binding them in place. And if you betray me...

She had never said what would happen if he betrayed her, but it was impossible to imagine that it would be anything good. Someone that could call on the powers of the netherworld was not someone that you wanted to get on the bad side of. Even with all his experience with numbers and finding out loopholes and details to agreements, he doubted that he could argue his way free of that little bargain. And she would know, somehow. She had that sort of power and prestige to her that made him believe that she knew everything as it happened.

Horace. Talk to Horace. Decide when you get there.

Back to his feet, back through the church. Henry tried to think of how he could confess his crimes without getting himself thrown to the dungeon at the same time, but no matter how hard he tried to think of doing the right thing, other, more sinful urges continued to rise through the back of his mind. Desires, needs, cravings that he had never wanted to admit bubbled up from the depths of his subconscious, and each time that he tried to shift his thoughts to something else, it was as if he could feel her feet on his face, her toes curling against his cheeks, pulling him to look back at her.

Obey me, my sweet little church-bat, and you will be given everything that you ever desired. Everything that the church itself denied you.

He remembered her promise, and his cock throbbed beneath his rough garb. He groaned and shook his head, pinching himself to try and drag himself out of it.

It didn't take long to climb the stairs and find the Inquisitor's office. It overlooked the atrium itself and was situated directly above the main corridor, giving the man in question the chance to see every normal visitor that came to the Fourth Church. There were days when Henry wondered if Horace believed that all were sinners, the way that the paladins did, or if he was one of the Inquisitors that took it further, that mortals were not merely sinners, but potential demons, and anyone that fell had to be rooted out before the rest were spoiled further.

He shivered as that thought rolled around his skull, hesitating with his hand near the doorknob. If he confessed his doings...

See what kind of mood he's in. He might be okay...maybe...

Henry knocked. The Inquisitor shouted through the door.

"Come in! It's about time!"

Not a good mood then. Lovely...

Lost in his thoughts, he pushed the door open, and as soon as he stepped inside, he shivered. The air was thick with the power of holy magic, and he could feel the raw intensity of the Inquisitor's medallion permeating the air. It seized hold of him, making him stand up straight, and there were places along his neck, his soles, and especially his cock that started burning with the searing heat of holy light as it passed over him. It was just short of actual pain, and he managed to hide it as the Inquisitor turned to look at him.

"Well, you aren't burning, so that means that she didn't have anything too dangerous on her," Horace muttered, the boar snorting past his tusks. "Hmph. Or she's sneakier than I was anticipating."

More the latter, he thought, though he didn't dare actually say it. If you knew what she could do...

There was a tickling feeling along the soles of his feet, a phantom memory that he did his best to ignore as he shivered from head to toe. Oh, Falina, but it was a potent thought to think of her actually there again, dragging those dancing tendrils along his feet, keeping him on his toes and reminding him of his place.

And yet...that smile...

He remembered her toothy smile, a far cry from the suspicious, flat-mouthed glare that Horace gave him as the boar finally turned to face him properly. He could tell that the other man was not entirely buying that the whole thing had gone as well as it had, and he knew that the Inquisitor wanted a story of guilt. His, or Priscilla's, either or. He didn't want to hear that something had gone wrong.

"Well?" Horace grunted. "What'd you find?"

"...It was nothing but clerical error," he said, only to have to clear his throat to speak loud enough to be heard. "Clerical error on the part of some of our other accountants."

"...That's impossible."

"I'm afraid that her books and our records show the same numbers. Someone else along the line managed to mess up their own basic math, which means that we've wasted church time and church resources chasing after something that isn't there. At the very least, Lady Priscilla has not committed any sort of financial fraud against the Church of Falina at this time, and I doubt that she plans to do so in future."

"...Hmmph."

Horace turned, leaning against the desk that was pressed up against the wall that overlooked the atrium. Despite the other man's sour demeanor, his green eyes seemed to flash every time that he looked at something new, and his body language screamed a sense of fury. Henry didn't dare move; for all that Horace was a chubby man, thick-set and dressed in gray robes rather than the holy armor of the paladins, there was a reason that everyone in the temples knew his name. His skills at rooting out iniquity were second to none, and he was a determined, if spiteful, officer of the church.

And if he finds out I'm lying...

Henry just stood there, keeping his hands at his sides and showing no more than the mild discomfort that he knew that anyone called to the Inquisitor's office would show. Some was fine, expected even, but anything more - and any nervous explaining - would call attention to himself. Instead, he just stood there, letting time tick on, and waited for the boar to -

"You're sure?" Horace asked.

"As sure as I can be without truth spells, but the books showed no signs of tampering, and everything added up and matched. She was willing enough to be interrogated in a polite fashion, but there was nothing there. Nothing that might have shown her as doing anything against the church laws."

Which wasn't the same as saying that she hadn't committed fraud. If anything, it hinted that there had been suspicions of other things, and he immediately regretted saying that. Horace turned toward him, one eyebrow raised, but the boar didn't say anything. If he had caught that hint, he kept it to himself, looking back down at his desk, instead.

"...A pity. It would have been good for the church and the city to bring another of them down."

"We should be trying to help stabilize the city, not rip it apart."

"The nobles do that on their own," Horace muttered, shaking his head. "Richer than they need to be, and barely paying lip service to Falina. They're the ones that don't understand how the country works, no matter how many times that they look down on us, instead. Seizing her assets and putting them to work for the good of the people..."

Henry could imagine that would fund a good number of works throughout Orlan, but he doubted that it would be so simple. Priscilla was as much a hedonist as she was some sort of mage, and she was not going to give up her means to an end. She wanted to do what she wanted, and her money was part of that means.

But he didn't say that. He just waited.

"...Hmmph. If there's nothing, then there's nothing. I'll have someone else look over the books - you brought copies of hers back?" the boar asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Send them along to my office and I'll see to it that they're checked properly."

In other words, by someone that he trusted more than Henry. It stung slightly, but he pushed that down. Better to be insulted than to be arrested, and he knew that there was a barb in there, a hook to catch him. He bowed his head slightly.

"As you wish, sir."

"And Henry?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I know that you were told to forget about ever being a paladin, but that order didn't mean to become incompetent. Either embrace your station, or find another job."

"...Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

He nodded, bowing his head before turning to leave. Walking back down the stairs, he lost himself in his own head once more, barely keeping hold to the instinct to start hyper-ventilating as he walked back down the stairs and then along the other halls. His eyes were half-closed but he didn't see where he was going. His legs moved automatically, carrying him further and further from the Inquisitor, but no matter where he went, he couldn't get away from his thoughts.

I just defended her. I just...I told a lie to the Inquisitor.

And the lie burned on him. He could feel it just under his heart, almost like there was a fire burning in his rib cage. The Inquisitor spells didn't cause the room to light up when someone defied them, but rather set pain to the liar in question. It was meant to show that they were guilty and punish them for it, but it did have the slight downside that if you were able to take the pain, you could hide it.

Henry could.

Henry did.

I lied. I defended her. What is wrong with me?

It didn't help that Horace just had to remind him that he had failed the test to become a paladin. That had been five years ago, five years in the past where he had hoped to be something more than a pencil pusher and number cruncher. He had done all the right things, but his body hadn't been enough, or so the higher-ups had said. They'd refused to go further, telling him that this was his only option.

He'd taken it.

He'd embraced it.

And now -

Thump.

The bat stopped, woken by running into a tree. He looked around, saw that he was in the third of five gardens that the church maintained behind its main structure, and he slowly turned, resting his back against the tree and letting his wings spread out along its trunk. He didn't quite sag down the trunk completely, but he did close his eyes and take a few deep breaths.

_They're going to kill me if they ever find out. They're going to kill me, and I'm going to deserve it.

Oh, little church-bat. Do you really think that I'd let anyone find out that my little tool has been bad?_

It was her voice. Lady Priscilla was in his head, and his eyes went wide.

_How -

You didn't think that I would let you go through that alone, did you, little bat? Mmm, no, no. I wanted to make sure that you did it properly.

What if they detected you?

Well, they clearly didn't, so I would say that worry can be forgotten. And besides, I should congratulate you. Not many could stand up to someone like Horace. You have done very well for me, little church-bat.

...I don't feel like I've done well.

Well, those feelings can be learned, earned over again. But for now, you can do something more for me. Something that will secure your place in my service, and something that will let you feel all the more accomplished._

Henry groaned. He should have known that she would find some way to make this even worse. As he rolled his eyes, he felt something pushing into his head, an image that he felt was almost familiar.

_I want this book. It is known as The Undertaker of the Underworld. Do you know it?

I... I have heard of it.

It is relatively harmless, insofar as the books of the occult go, but there are some key pieces in it that are very valuable to me. And more to the point, they will shorten the experimental phase to a number of my spells. Think of this little retrieval mission as a service in ensuring that the lives of others are in less danger than they would be otherwise._

What kind of -

Oh, you know. Raising of spirits, finding means of hosting them in different places, ensuring that only small pieces of the living are taken. Dear, dear, do you know how many people would be hurt if I had to experiment on my own to find out what the book's writer learned all those years ago? It would be devastating.

He could only imagine. A shiver ran down his spine as he tried to think of what would happen to the city as a whole. Orlan was very large cluster of people and brick and cultures, and if someone was determined enough, they could spread that suffering out among quite a few people before anyone raised the alarm about what was happening. The panther could end up putting more than a hundred people in the ground before anyone saw anything wrong with the city running as it always did.

_I think that you see my point, dear bat. Now, why don't you mosey on down to the vault, and retrieve that book for me? I will take it from you tonight after you finish the rest of your work.

This is...this is..._

Mmm, my little bat. Surely you aren't thinking that it would be a good idea to change your mind now? Not when you've gotten so much out of me already. Wouldn't you like to see if you could get even more?

...You...

The pleasures of the body are great, little church-bat, but there are other things that I can give you. Other things that you have probably given up on after so long. Things that you might believe forever lost.

...

Get me the book, and I will see to it that your dreams may come to life once more.

And then, her voice was gone. He was alone in his own head again, and he wished that it was as comfortable as it used to be. Once, that silence meant that he could pursue his faith, his ideals, his sense of self once more, but now...

Now, it was just a reminder that he could be intruded on at any moment. She was part of him, and he had no way of being alone once more.

He looked back the way he'd come, debated making one last trip to Horace's office...but it was that offer that teased him. He wished that he could say that it was his morals, that he was unwilling to risk the lives of hundreds of people against the experiments that she would try without the book, but no. It was the offer, the offer of bringing his dreams back to life.

It's impossible, he thought, even as he stood up straight once more. You can only become a paladin in a church, with the aid of Falina themselves. There's nothing that a mage could do to help you.

But what if there was? What if there was something that Priscilla could do to make his dream a reality once more? What if there was a way to move from counting numbers to doing something that really meant something in the world, rather than just giving the real doers the evidence that they needed to act? What if, what if, what if?

#

Henry had told himself that he would leave the vault behind if the guard looked at all dangerous, but it was his (un)lucky day. Not only was the guard in question one of the more matronly, motherly mares of the church - and someone that had gone out of their way to tend to most of the students waiting for the chance to become paladins during their training days - but she was fast asleep. Her legs were crossed, her feet on the small check-in desk in front of her, and her head was tilted down, chin almost sliding into her bosom.

Her toes curled and released as he snuck up to her, one of her sandals fallen to the floor without her notice. He didn't say anything as he knelt at her side, pulling the heavy metal key from her waist, and turned to the door in question.

That was quite simple, Priscilla said. _I thought you would have to work harder for that. Perhaps I should adjust the reward that I had in mind.

I was lucky. If it had been anyone else...

Mmm, I suppose that's fair. Keep going, little bat._

The vault door was the only barrier of metal in the entirety of the Fourth Church, and it was made of heavy iron that was shaped with various holy sigils across the front. None of them did anything to hold back the curses of the locked away items inside, but rather spoke to the power of the church that would hunt down anyone that entered without the consent of the higher orders. It was one of many stories that circulated among the faithful, and he had to force himself to actually insert the key into the hole in the precise center of the door and turn it.

They won't be real. They won't be real.

The door clicked, and he returned the key to the mare's waist before pulling the door open. A single lamp lit as soon as he stepped inside, and he took the bespelled illumination from its hanging place by the door.

You have been here before, his temptress said. _Are you keeping secrets from me, little church-bat? Has my little accountant been sneaking out in the past?

It was part of our lessons. We have to see the vault to know what we're protecting.

Mmm, now isn't that an interesting fact..._

Henry shook his head, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths before looking around for the inventory book. Everyone that brought something to the vault had to log what was brought in and where they'd placed it. While it ostensibly made it easier for thieves to know where the goods were, it was also required so that they could find where the cursed items were. It should be -

There. He found the scroll and quill that went with it a table down from the door, just before the start of the main aisle that eventually splintered off into a dozen others further in the room. The dark ceiling seemed to consume any light coming off the lamp in the bat's hand, and he leaned down, letting the lamp illuminate the map and the key beside it.

As he panned down the list, he read through a number of cursed items. Some were other books, tomes that were against the teachings of Falina, while others were actually items that had been seized from monsters, raiders, and evil beings on the adventures that the paladins went on. Swords that fed on blood, daggers that drained the will to live from others, and even necklaces that held souls of those that were sacrificed to evil spirits were held in this vault, and Henry could only imagine what someone could do with some of those more horrible things.

But eventually, he found the title that she had mentioned. The Undertaker of the Underworld was down the main aisle, then to the second right, and four shelves in. Not that far, as things went. He'd heard of others that had been sent down veritable mazes in the vault in the past, and he had dreaded such a thing for himself.

What is the book for? he asked as he walked along the aisle. _Why do you want to know about the underworld?

It is less about the underworld, and more about the Undertaker. You see, he found ways of taking not just a whole soul from a person, but small segments, and from that, extrapolating various things that others never would have thought possible._

And what kind of things were those?

Interested in heresy, are we?

Hardly, he thought, taking the first turn along the darkened, misty covers of the shelves. If the ceiling consumed light, then the shelves turned it to mist and smoke. They were impossible to see; if one didn't know what they were looking for, then they had no chance to find them in this place of forced darkness. _I want to know what you want.

It seems a trifle blunt to pry into a lady's affairs, but I suppose that you should know. He found how to pull segments of faith, and from there, the divine power that resides in mortal beings._

Henry blinked, coming to a halt at his turn. His breath caught in his throat as he imagined the implications.

Yes, yes, you see? You aren't so dull, are you, little church-bat. These spells would allow someone to reach into the soul of another and remove the faith that they had in someone else. In the gods of good, in the demons of hell, or whatever else one might want to see removed. A potent means of seizing control of another, wouldn't you say? Or perhaps, rather, of correcting someone else.

It wasn't just that. He imagined others seizing hold of the divine faith and the power of Falina in others and pulling it out, not merely taking that faith from another, but giving it to someone that would use it. Perhaps even to the paladins to make them more powerful, more suitable for hunting down others, or...

Or removing it from those that...that they don't think would make...

No, no, he wasn't going to go down that route. He needed to get the book and get out before someone higher up did come down to the vault for something. The bat forced himself to keep walking, moving along and counting the shelves until he came to the right one.

The darkness that covered the shelf made it impossible to tell if it was the right one or not, but the map had promised it was. He took a deep breath, pushed his hand through the shade, and kept fumbling around until he felt paper. A little further up, he found leather, and they were seemingly bound together.

It had to be the right thing. He pulled his hand back, and a black-bound book came free of the darkness around the shelf. Turning it on its side, he confirmed the title and turned back, following the aisle back out with a faster step than he'd had coming in.

His mind was still racing as he imagined what he would find out when he brought the book to Priscilla, but more, it raced to think of what the church might have done with this book. It wasn't just something that they could have used to empower their paladins; they could have used this to strip the faith in the ancient devils and other gods that the world had once worshiped, removing the belief that others had in them in order to make Falina more of an appealing alternative. A foe that had their faith stripped away was hardly the danger that they had once been, after all.

And if they had stripped those that believed in Falina of their faith, in order to give them enemies to hunt...

If Horace used this to bring down the nobles one by one...stripping them of their faith to make them enemies of the church...

No, the point was to keep moving. Keep moving, put this all behind him, get back to his desk. He picked up his pace until he left the vault and shut the door behind him. As it clicked into place, so did the locks on the other side. There was no need to turn the key. It was done. It was done.

#

Henry sat at his desk with his hands folded over the top of it. He was ever more conscious of the book in one of the drawers, doing his best not to think about it while hoping that it wasn't putting off an unholy aura that would draw the other faithful to find it. If the paladins found him with it -

Relax, little church-bat. I have already taken care of that. You are marked against their power. My magic keeps you safe. Consider it a reward for doing so well the last time that you visited me.

His cheeks burned at the thought of having earned his protection with that, but at least it was something. He swore that he could feel the panther's hands on his shoulders, rubbing them gently as her voice whispered in his ears.

_You have done me a great service. Mmm, and I will see you rewarded for it. You will have much pleasure tonight, and we shall talk about what else I can do for you. A servant like yourself will help me a great deal...and I will see you compensated. You deserve that, after all, do you not?

I...I shouldn't..._

Perhaps not, but you have. And I doubt that you want to stop there, do you? Not when there's so much more you could gain.

The bat didn't want to admit that it tempted him, but he could no longer deny that his faith had been...shaken, to say the least. Not only had the panther noblewoman gone out of her way to take care of him and ensure that he would be safe in church, she had made sure that he knew just what he was getting from her. Pleasure, protection...and perhaps something more.

He looked at the drawer once more. The book promised many things, from how she described it. Things that would keep the public safe from her experiments...and things that might give him the life that he had always wanted.

_...I can't believe I'm thinking this.

Believe it, little bat. Unlike your current masters, when I say that I'll give you something, I'll follow through. I'll see you tonight...bright...and eager._

The End

Summary: Henry returns after betraying some church precepts and has to cover for the noblewoman that he had gone to interview. He also ends up being a thief.

Tags: No sex, Embarrassment, Turmoil, Story, Character Development, Series, Barefoot, Bat, Magic, Mistress, Panther, Boar, Various Species, Church,