The Rotunda contained only a single demon in attendance to the Prince. Sitting cross-legged in the blood before the flesh-throne was Faraii, and as Adramalik approached him he could see that something was not quite right about the Baron. Motionless, still clad in the dark and tattered garments he had worn on the battlefield, he made no move to indicate that he was aware of the arrival of the Chancellor General and the ex—Prime Minister. Adramalik narrowed his eyes as he looked at the seemingly oblivious figure, as he began to more fully appreciate the extent of the Prince's plans for Faraii. The fly that invaded him ... it has hollowed him out. Now he is nothing more than a vessel. A fighting husk. Husk Faraii!
Adramalik stepped closer to the throne and knelt down on one knee while Agares squatted nearby in what had to be an uncomfortable position. The Battle of the Flaming Cut had changed things; a degree of subservience was now demanded of him that had never been necessary before. He was unsure whether this new requirement would remain in place even after his ongoing punishment subsided. As the thought crossed his mind a jolt of withering pain sliced through; they were fewer these days but no less intense. When it subsided he looked up and saw the headless body of Prince Beelzebub seated atop the rotting pile.
A muffled howl arose from deep beneath the bowels of the Keep. The Watcher had been unusually restless these past few weeks, Adramalik thought. Was it a portent, some sign of impending disaster? The dying sound reverberated through the Rotunda, creating myriad concentric ripples in the puddles. He looked back at Husk Faraii, who gave no evidence of having heard the sound; instead a familiar buzzing now seemed to be emanating from within him. Adramalik noticed a large pool of saliva gathering inside the gray-blue Husk's slackly opened mouth. Due to a slight tilt in his gaunt head, the saliva began to drop in a slowly lengthening rivulet from his mouth until it touched his thigh.
As Adramalik watched, he saw a few flies appear inside Husk Faraii's mouth. Emerging from within, they perched for a moment upon his lips and teeth and then took wing, rising higher and higher until they were directly over the shoulders of Beelzebub's waiting form. An improbable number of them began to issue forth, a steady stream adding layers of solidity to the featureless head that was forming and then, once the last of them was in place, refining itself into the Prince's countenance.
Without preamble, as the last flies were settling themselves, the Prince asked, "What is noble here in Hell?"
"Nothing, my Prince," Adramalik said. "Nothing can be noble in such a place. You have always said that nobility has the stink of the Above."
"And yet ... and yet somehow Sargatanas can create the illusion, through his actions and aspirations, of nobility?"
"No, my Prince."
"How else can you explain, then, the sudden flocking of allies ... important allies ... to his side?"
Adramalik paused. Whatever he thought, he must tell Beelzebub what he needed to hear.
"They are weak and stupid," Adramalik ventured. "They are cleaving to him because they think that aligning themselves with a new, defiant power in Hell will bring about a chance to topple your court. They do not care at all about his 'cause.' "
"Well, Adramalik, there is a chance. This court now stands upon shaky feet. I, Beelzebub, the Prince Regent of Hell since its founding, must accept the fact that there is now a rising power that threatens my sovereignty. A demon has come to shake me from my throne!"
The words hung in the air. Adramalik looked over at Husk Faraii and saw that the saliva had pooled upon his thigh and was now slowly dribbling downward. Agares, too, was staring at him.
"Dis is now deprived of Moloch's standing army; it is ash upon the winds as we speak. My Great Summoning Pits are, for the moment, impotent ... my conjurors sit idle at their edges, waiting for them to bestir themselves. But I am sure the same can be said for him; it will take some time for his allies to gather their armies. It was nothing short of genius for him to use his souls."
"It was disgusting, my Prince," said Adramalik vehemently, forgetting himself. "An army of skin-sacks! It was an abomination worthy of no demon; imagine, demons ... no, angels Fallen ... destroyed by that filth!"
"You speak of 'angels' and 'abominations.' Just where do you think you are?" asked Beelzebub.
"But to use them as he does is to become as dirty inside as they are."
"To use them, you fool, was to annihilate my army!" Beelzebub roared, the buzzing making the Chancellor General's painful head throb. Agares splashed backward as the Prince rose in a roiling cloud from the throne and rematerialized seconds later below, before Faraii. High above, the hanging skins flapped agitatedly. Slowly and with apparent affection Beelzebub reached out a hand and began to caress the seated demon's face, wiping the drool from him with the fluttering wings of a hundred flies. The act seemed to soothe the Prince. He turned to the Chancellor, who had bowed so low that his upper robes hung well into the crimson puddles.
"I was there," the Prince said. "I was at the Flaming Cut. At least,part of me was there. Look and understand, fool." He extended his left arm; it ended in a stump of angry, milling flies. "I wanted to see Sargatanas for myself, see his 'brilliance' with my own eyes, and so my Hand, formed into a simple legionary, marched just behind you ... no farther than I am to you now ... all the way to the Cut and into battle. Did you think Faraii chose his own moment to betray his lord?"
Adramalik shook his head. He had truly never guessed.
"In the chaos of Moloch's destruction I changed sides, I became one of them and returned with them to their city, and even now, even as we speak, I search the streets of Adamantinarx. Do you know why?"
Adramalik knew what was coming.
"Because you failed to bring her back to me!"
Adramalik staggered. In the haze of pain that suddenly swept through him he wondered if he was going to walk from the Rotunda or finally be destroyed.
But the moment passed. Beelzebub continued to stroke Husk Faraii's face.
"What have I done ... ruling in Lucifer's stead ... to deserve this ... but what Lucifer himself would have done?"
"It is as you say," the Chancellor General uttered through clenched teeth. "You have ruled just as Lucifer would have done. With firmness and steady resolve."
"And so I shall continue. I fought at Lucifer's side against the armies of the Above. If I cannot destroy the rebel Sargatanas I do not deserve to rule in this place. I will not use the souls of Dis to fight a demon ... their lot is punishment, not empowerment. But I, too, can call upon allies."
He would risk everything to compete with Sargatanas! He will bring Dis to its knees!
But Adramalik glanced over at Agares and held his tongue.
"Allies, my Prince?"
"Lucifuge Rofocale, Lords Berith, Carnefiel, and Malgaras, all have pledged their support; their legions are forming at this moment. Together they will form an alliance that will bring my army back to full strength and more."
"And who will coordinate them, my Prince?"
Adramalik sensed the answer and felt his spirits sink lower than he could have imagined. This responsibility would surely take him down the path to his destruction.