The Nightshade Terror (BL Harem)

Valentius entered the lord's chambers with a tight grip on a broom. He knew that the lord knew what he looked like, but the boy was still just a servant in the man's eyes.

One who was obvious.

The lord in question was forty-three years old. Of that much, Valentius was certain.

The man was in bed, looking at him with a smile that not only didn't reach the eyes, but it also didn't do anything about the shadow which had taken over the lord Claudius' face.

Valentius bowed.

"Ah, Valentine!" The lord's voice was so greasy that Valentius couldn't even muster up any regret for what he was going to do next.

Besides, he knew that the lord was using the nickname Bartolomeo had saddled him with just to be mean.

The bruise on Beth's arm flashed before Valentius' eyes. He began to look around, as he did a bow.

His broom clutched in his hands.

Back in the academy, they were taught how to use branches as weapons. After all, if you dropped your real weapon, you had to think on your feet.

No mob was going to just wait for you. No dungeon was going to show you mercy.

It had been the very first lesson their instructor had beat into them.

Valentius knew that a broom was no branch, but it could be used as one.

He needed just one hit. One well-placed hit on the head.

He had one shot. If he couldn't knock out lord Claudius with the first hit, the man was either going to fight back or scream.

Neither option was something Valentius could afford.

The lord was a war hound. Everyone knew that he trained in the yard from sunrise to sunset.

And apparently, most days he used the skills learned in the training yard to beat up and force himself on kitchen maids.

Valentius' blood boiled.

He didn't think!

With a scream, he charged. The lord's eyes widened, but the boy had a fury that had a lifetime to grow.

He hit the lord on the head once, then twice.

It didn't even register to him that the man was slumped in bed. He kept hitting and hitting.

Not even registering that no one was rushing to see what was happening. Not even the guards who must still be stationed by the door.

The ones by whom Valentius had come on the way in.

By the time the broom broke, the thing on the pillow near the chains, which were surely meant for Valentius, didn't look like a head.

The boy blinked.

The only thing he could think about was a peaceful summer, back when he still had parents, when he had dropped a watermelon on the ground.

One he had wanted to eat all by himself, even though he had been a ten-year-old and sure to be sick from eating that much.

He backed away slowly.

It was then that the door opened!

Beth was there; the guards were behind her.

"Is he dead?" She asked, her hands shaking.

Valentius stepped to the side, showing her the gore.

"Well… let's hope the Archdemons don't make a fuss when his cousin comes from the monastery," a guard said, as he pointed at a far wall. "His bottomless bag is over there. It might still have something of his inside. Get out of Wendel, kid. And… thank you."

Thank you?

For murder?

Valentius bent over and threw up the meager breakfast the Head Maid had allowed him that morning.

A slice of bread and a baked potato from the lord's supper the night before.

The waste mixed in with the gore on the pillow.

"Darn, kid," one of the guards chuckled, as Beth let out a giggle. "You'll get a stomach for it. Look… go in the forest. Find somewhere to hide. We won't tell anyone until the morning. But we must tell the Head Maid. Otherwise, it will be our heads!"

Valentius froze. They were going to tell! People will know that he was a murderer!

"Look," Valentius recognized the helmet of the Guard Captain. A man the lord Claudius had loved to beat up. Everyone knew that. "You did a good, but bloody thing. Life is full of good, but bloody things for those who don't want to be victims. Just… don't forget why you did it."

Guard Captain Adam nodded at Beth, who was looking at the corpse on the bed with a crazed smile.

Valentius looked at the bag.

A bottomless bag. Even one could set him up for life if he chose to sell it.

And if he chose to keep it, then there were no limitations to how much loot he could get out of a dungeon!

"May I take some books?" Valentius looked around. Trying to see the famed door to the library.

"Books? Ah, you bought the whole Master Claudius has a library with skill books crap? Kid… the guy couldn't read. You think he'd risk getting cheated by some peddler? Skill books are rare. And he had none."

Valentius didn't know if the bitter taste in his mouth was from the aftertaste of the barf or from the fact that he was not going to get anything out of this.

Nothing.

But… what if he did?

"Surely, you know where the treasury is?" It was a bold move. A move that was too grasping.

But he still had to try.

"You have no time for that," Adam told him, as he gently nudged Beth. "Go back to your bed, girl. If that harpy asks, you slept through the whole night."

"Take the bag," the younger guard told him. "He might have stashed a whole coin bag inside! You might even find some of his field rations. He loved to hike, that bastard."

"And hunt," Adam spat the word out so, as if the man had hunted more than game.

Or, maybe, a game of a more tragic variety.

Valentius looked at the reddening skies, then at the two guards.

He took the bottomless bag, slung it over the shoulder, and then followed them out.

Leaving the broken, bloody, broom behind.