The Balance Of Power

The door opened and the Archon beckoned her in. The Succubus bowed from the waist and entered the private chamber. “Well, my dear, that was a very successful raid. Drink?” She shook her head. He poured himself one and studied the glass as he swirled the blue liquid around before swallowing it in one go. “I take it that you have come to pick up your slaves?” “Yes, my Lord” she replied, “10,000 slaves.” “Now, now, we have an agreement; we would split all slaves 50:50, that means 5,000 for the arena and 5,000 for me.” “I’ve changed the terms of our deal. One of the Haemonculi owed me a favour and he gave me a very virulent poison. One of your lieutenants was kind enough to help me slip it into your drink. I’m told it’s very painful and it will take weeks to die.”

Behind her, the door opened and one of the Archon’s most trusted warriors walked in. “5,000 slaves seemed a small price to pay to be the new Archon” he said. The Archon tied to stand but found that he couldn’t, the neurotoxins was already working on his body. “Oh no, don’t get up” the Succubus said, a smile spreading across her face. It lasted less than a second before it was replaced by a look of shock. She looked down to see a blade protruding from her chest. She cast an accusing stare over her shoulder. “I’ve changed my mind” were the last words that she heard, “I’d rather be the new Archon AND keep my 10,000 slaves.” He slid his weapon out and she fell onto her knees, dead. The deposed Archon, still sat in his chair, could feel his lungs filling with his own blood but he still managed to let out a spiteful laugh.