“I thought I might take up poetry,” said Wichtig.
“I’m going to unite the city-states. One holy empire. Want to be the First Sword of the Geborene Damonen? Want to be loved and respected by the entire world?” Morgen locked eyes with the Swordsman. “Want to be worshipped? At my side, you will Ascend to be the God of Swordsmen.”
God of Swordsmen. Wichtig breathed deep and let the air hiss out between his teeth. Of course he wanted all of that. And he knew Morgen knew he wanted it all. “You want Bedeckt pretty bad, don’t you?”
“You have no idea,” said Morgen.
“I have two conditions.”
Morgen raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Wealth.”
“As First Sword of the Geborene you will never pay for anything. Ever. And you will be paid more than you could spend in a lifetime.”
“And I never die again. I don’t ever want to see this,” he waved as if encompassing all the Afterdeath, “again. Ever.” He sat tall, straightening his shirt. “I’m an artist, a poet. Grey is depressing.”
“Agreed,” said Morgen.
“I’ll need better clothes,” said Wichtig.
Morgen dropped a pouch of coins on the table, conjuring it from nothing.
“One last thing,” said the Swordsman, pocketing the coins, hearing the satisfying clunk of gold. “Stehlen.”
“What about her?” asked Morgen.
“She’ll be angry. And Bedeckt abandoned her as much as he…” Just like he abandoned me. He couldn’t say it. “She’ll be angry,” he finished.
“You’re afraid of her.”
“Of course not,” Wichtig lied, “but she might cause trouble for you here in the Afterdeath.”
“I’m a god,” said Morgen. “She’s just a Kleptic.”
Just a Kleptic? The boy was an idiot, but that was hardly Wichtig’s problem. She’d be stuck here in the Afterdeath and he’d be alive. It stung to give up on his plan to steal Lebendig from her, but this seemed a fair enough trade.
“You’ll make sure the hideous bitch doesn’t come after me?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll do it,” said Wichtig. “You can really do it? You can return me to life?”
“I’m a god.”
“Aren’t there rules about that?”
“Everyone believes a few special souls return from the Afterdeath to complete unfinished business.”
Well, obviously Wichtig was a special soul and he had yet to achieve his destiny and become the World’s Greatest Swordsman. The boy-god made sense.
“Bedeckt has a head start on you,” said Morgen.
Wichtig snorted at the boy’s concern. “He won’t be hard to find. I’ll look in the first whorehouse and there he’ll be. Failing that, I’ll listen for the crackle pop of his knees.”
“I still can’t see the reasons,” said Morgen.
What the hells does that mean? “I know,” Wichtig said.
“Reasons matter. Or they should. Especially for a god.”
“Right,” agreed Wichtig, confused but playing along.
“With every decision I might snuff someone’s chance at happiness or a better life. Or redemption.”
“Such things are myths,” said Wichtig, thinking he finally caught a useful thread of the conversation. “Happiness is the kiss of a pretty girl, gone before you enjoy it.” He noted the boy’s blush. Unlike every other grey soul here, the god painted the world with his emotions. “Redemption is the honeyed bait or the switch lashing your back bloody. It all depends whose hands it’s in and what they want from you. As a god, you’d best be comfortable with both.”
Flush fading, Morgen examined him with nervous eyes. The boy looked like maybe Wichtig brushed against an uncomfortable truth. Wichtig tried to remember what he said, but he hadn’t been listening to himself. He shrugged the thought away. No surprise the boy finds wisdom in my words.
“I think the reasons people do things should matter,” said Morgen. “Maybe, if I knew those reasons, I might make different choices of my own.”
“Basing your own choices on the whims and needs of others is foolish.”
“I still believe in redemption.”
Wichtig laughed. “You might be a god, but you’re still a na?ve little boy.”
Morgen leaned back in his chair. “Kill Bedeckt. I’ll give you everything you deserve.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Rotting heart, cut from chest
Taste the cold of love’s last breath
Stealing love but never rest
No escape from living death
—Halber Tod - Cotardist Poet