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The Fall of the House of Traf
A W40k short story
I woke up with a start, it was totally dark and I was lying on a rough mattress of coarse material with a splitting headache and a disgusting taste in my mouth, I could clearly remember a girl laughing, a voice asking a question, then pain: and an explosion in my head.
I could hear dripping water and I was cold, very cold, an intensely bright light dispelled the blackness and a silhouette of a man’s head appeared. “Tell the Lady our “guest” is awake will you,” the voice said to an unseen companion seemingly from a considerable distance, but at the same time unbelievably loudly. “Emperors Throne don’t shout, any chance of a recaf” I called, his colourful obscenity was cut off by the slamming of the small opening in what I assumed was a cell door, I supposed I could take some comfort from the fact that my captors wanted me alive; if they wanted me dead, I simply would not have woken up, At this point I was I must admit getting worried I had been no idea how long I had been unconscious, where I was, who was holding me or why!
The door opened, the figure standing in the doorway just gestured me for follow him into the bright corridor. My eyes were watering badly; also, my nose was starting to run so I could not make out any details of my jailer, “About time I sniffed, do you know who I am” I asked, “
Stumbling along the bright corridor, I again tried to engage my jailer in conversation. “You should realise you have good reason to be afraid, my man, my family is very powerful, I am sure the Proctors are looking for me. You will be well rewarded if you help me, you know.
I tried to turn to speak to him and received a ringing slap across the head and a shove in the back. Opening a door, he shoved me into a dimly lit room the shadows were pooled around the edges only a chair in the centre was well lit, it was facing an ornate desk with a bright light focused on the desk top, effectively hiding the occupant of the seat, it was so childishly theatrical, I almost laughed, “almost”
The occupant of the seat was obviously a woman, young and shapely, with long dark hair with long Burgundy nails, but I could not see her face because of the lighting, the dress she wore was expensive Moravian Silk imported from off world, like the one`s my sister collects.
“I am not who you think I am, you know”! I spluttered
“Really”, the figure answered, “You are Delas, Scion of the noble house of Traf, son of Delgar, Grandson of Torek the Trader, she replied in a mildly accented voice.
I froze they really did know who I was “Look if you know my family then you know we are very powerful and it would be a serious mistake to harm me”,
“Has it crossed that tiny mind of yours that there are people who would pay us to hurt you, ” remarked the figure who had escorted me to the room. I started to turn and received another ringing slap across the head and was shoved roughly back into the chair, banging my head causing the headache to restart, this was getting tedious.
“Cedor that’s enough, we need him alive and in one piece”, chided the women.
Interesting, I thought she is in charge, this brute answers to her.
“Who would pay you to hurt me” i asked mournfully, “everyone likes me”
“Oh let’s see now, How about the family of the Scioness of Thel whom you promised to wed, got with child, and then rejected” answered the figure at the desk.
“What Arianna, look if it’s about supporting her brat I will pay, not that I am admitting its mine, of course there were plenty of others in her bed, you know, just ask her! Real party girl, just ask her”
“I am afraid that’s not possible! You see she took poison when you rejected her, killing her and her unborn child, her father was devastated, and he went to your father who had him ostracised.
Cheaper than paying her off I suppose”, I retorted spitefully.
I felt rather than saw the figure of my jailer tense up, the figure behind the light took a deep breath, and my jailer seemed to relax slightly.
Anyway, this is not about you, Scion of the house of Traf, it is about your family, the figure behind the light spoke tightly, almost biting off her words
“What do you mean?” I asked? “What do you know about how your fathers business interests” she prompted.
“I have almost no say in my father’s business dealings, he is training me, but doesn’t trust me, I have no real power or authority it all has to be sanctioned by my father or Kirov, his Chamberlin anyone can tell you that, it`s common knowledge in the Souk! ” I answered
“But you are the Heir, Leader of the House of Traf on your father’s death aren’t you” the figure at the desk asked, “Again you are out of luck my father’s in good health, surrounded by lifeguards, “he’s untouchable you low born bitch” “The gentleman, as ever, so when did you last see your father”, “her voice suggested she was smiling again.
I grimaced at the memory, “a couple of days ago at one of his interminable lectures about my behaviour, just after Kirov had bailed me out of some trouble with the Proctors, My fathers a hypercritical old fool, berateing me about my behaviour, when he’s off bed hopping with one of his doxies”
“Well; my doxies to be quite accurate” and then he went about his business, I suppose, she asked “All hale and hearty”, again the voice seemed to smile,
The “my doxies” comment filled me with unease, My Father for his faults had first class security and a paranoid streak a sector wide, if this sump born trash had infiltrated her agents into the house we had a serious problem!
The figure at the desk leaned forward into the light; “it seems he’s met with an accident”, she said her hands crossing on the desk her nails were long, almost like a Sarcat`s
She nodded to the figure behind me, who placed a bag on my lap “Open it” she said, I fumbled with the draw strings something was leaking from the bag onto my legs, with mounting dread I pulled the bag down off the object
“Oh Emperor”, I screamed jumping to my feet my father’s head thumped to the floor bouncing once before rolling to a stop near the desk, face up, his eyes seemed to accuse me, and I stumbled back into my jailer who pushed me back into the chair.
“My Lady, he’s wet himself, Throne what a stink”, laughed my jailer.
“Please don’t kill me, don’t hurt me” I ll do anything I whimpered ,“I do not intend to do either, Delas, Heir to the house of Traf, I am merely a facilitator, about to deliver your soiled pants to someone with a far more pressing reason to destroy the house of Traf than even I do.
A small device chimed on my jailers wrist “my Lady, our guests are on the way” the servant Cedor remarked.
“Cedor, take this “Gentleman” to one of the guest suites and clean him up will you please. I must welcome our guests, you know how fastidious they can be at times” The figure leaned back in her seat again hiding what little I had seen of her in the gloom.
Cedor, my jailer gestured me towards a door dimly outlined in the opposite wall, we walked briefly along a further corridor and came to a door; before it stood the biggest Ogryn I had ever seen he was wearing a well-fitting dress suit, very bizarre. Cedor nodded to the Ogryn, “Chakka, this man is not to leave these rooms”
“YUS BOSS, HIM STINK BOSS, HAHAH”! The Ogryn boomed grinning as he opened the door for me, gently pushing me inside, the door closed and I heard the faint click of locks engaging.
Delas regarded the suite with some considerable distaste; it was an outrage, being treated like a this, the lack of House tattoos on the servant Cedor`s face told Delas quite a bit about his captors, Recidivists, possibly Heretics, certainly criminal scum, to be purged at the first opportunity.
He surmised, he was not the “guest” of a rival Great House, they at least would treat him like he should be treated, like a noble of the house of Traf, to be treated with deference and respect. After all, the Emperor had willed the divine order of things; it was his destiny to be a noble and therefore the lower orders place to defer in all things to him.
Delas reflected on the events since he woke up in that cell, When he got out of this situation, his social position would be considerably raised, it was at the cost of his Father`s life of course, but everyone dies and better him than me I suppose, he thought.
He did agree on one thing however, he did stink he walked to the shower cubicle and stripped off, throwing his now ruined clothes into a corner, showering and redressing quickly in the shapeless poor quality clothes left for him, yet another outrage!
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