Lucifer's Servant

By Olga Kryuchkova

Demon Asmodeus, Lucifer’s son, plays a sophisticated game of time travel. In medieval Italy, he finds the young cardinal Rodrigo de Borgia and his beloved Vannozza dei Cattanei. He decides that this couple is quite suitable for the implementation of his plans. De Borgia’s name becomes a synonym for debauchery, incest and cruelty. During the war in 1945, the demon gives his favourite toy, a magical crystal, to Dmitry Malyshev. And all Malyshev’s wishes come true. He returns home, marries a beautiful lady and creates an impetuous career for himself. Neither the Borgia family nor the Malyshevs suspect that not only they, but also their descendants, will have to pay a high price for all the pleasures and material benefits.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Aug 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9781071563328

Olga Kryuchkova

Olga Kryuchkova began her creative career in 2006. During this time, the author had more than 100 publications and reprints (historical novels, historical adventures, esotericism, art therapy, fantasy). A number of novels were co-written with Elena Kryuchkova.

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Olga Kryuchkova

Lucifer’s Servant

Annotation

Demon Asmodeus, Lucifer’s son, is playing a sophisticated game of time travel. In medieval Italy, he finds the young cardinal Rodrigo de Borgia and his beloved Vannozza dei Cattanei. He decides that this couple is quite suitable for the implementation of his plans. De Borgia’s name becomes a synonym for debauchery, incest and cruelty. During the war in 1945, the demon gives his favourite toy, a magical crystal, to Dmitry Malyshev. And all Malyshev’s wishes come true. He returns home, marries a beautiful lady and creates an impetuous career for himself. Neither the Borgia family nor the Malyshevs suspect that not only they, but also their descendants, will have to pay a high price for all the pleasures and material benefits.

Prologue

Lucifer held a transparent crystal, clear as water, in his right hand and watched the lives of mortals. Overcome by a sense of confusion, he realised that the girl whom he had seen in the crystal before, a mortal black-haired beauty, excited his imagination.

Gwendolyn, the daughter of a simple Saxon farmer, was fifteen years old, and she had already acquired the proper feminine curves which put men into a state of turmoil.

Having realised that the girl was quite ripe for marriage, her father decided to marry her off to a farmer like himself, the only difference being that the boy was from a neighbouring village which was considered more prosperous.

Unaware of her father’s plans, Gwendolyn was strolling through the woods, picking flowers and weaving wreaths as she usually did. She had made two pretty wreaths; colourful wildflowers gave them a summer charm and a lovely smell.

The morning star glittered in the blue, cloudless sky. Lately, Gwendolyn had been noticing the light in the sky more and more often, admiring its ethereal beauty. The star shimmered with blue lustre, forming a mysterious halo around itself.

Suddenly, the star vanished from the sky and at the same moment a young man appeared before her. Gwendolyn shuddered,

Who are you? Why would you scare me like that?

Beautiful girl, that was not my intention at all, the charming stranger replied and smiled, showing his even white teeth.

The girl could not help admiring the stranger who was indeed handsome, tall, well-built, dressed in a delicate dark-blue tunic and, on top of everything, fair-haired and blue-eyed.

Unwittingly, Gwendolyn shivered under the man’s gaze. He approached her and said,

Would you like me to help you make the most beautiful wreath in the world?

Yes... the girl replied timidly. She did not dare look up as she was already under the man’s spell.

The stranger reached out and quickly grabbed several nondescript wildflowers. Then he began to weave them and, as if out of thin air, flowers of extraordinary beauty appeared in his hands. Such flowers had never grown in Gwendolyn’s meadow.

The girl watched the stranger’s movements with pleasure and soon the wreath was done. It was decorated with white lilies, which the poor peasant girl had never seen before.

The girl was surprised,

Where did these beautiful flowers come from?

There they are, the stranger gestured towards the meadow. Indeed, big white lilies swayed in the wind all around them.

Gwendolyn was distraught,

Are you a druid[1]?! Did you come here from the oak grove over the hill?

Oh yes, I come from a grove, the stranger laughed. Just not from the one over the hill. Better try on the wreath I made for you.

He deftly put the wreath on Gwendolyn’s brow. She succumbed to an inexplicable feeling, not yet realising that she was overcome by desire.

***

Lucifer often visited the mortal beauty until she was married. Although Gwendolyn had been young and naïve before she met the seducer, she had no doubt in her mind that she bore a child unto him.

On Gwendolyn’s wedding night, when her husband first took her, knowing that his relatives would want to find traces of innocence on the sheets in the morning, she hid a bowl of lamb blood under the bed. It came from the lamb her father had slaughtered for the celebration table.

The young man’s caresses were rough and unskilled and lying on her wedding bed, Gwendolyn unwittingly remembered her charming lover. The young woman missed her blue-eyed seducer even though she reproached herself for her frivolity; she did not even know his name.

Two months after the wedding night, Gwendolyn’s stomach started to grow and naturally, her husband had legitimate suspicions; he realised his wife had lost her virginity long before the wedding.

***

It was getting dark. Beaten and bruised, Gwendolyn was walking along the same meadow where she had experienced love rapture in the summer. Not a trace remained of the beautiful flowers, they withered from the cold and frost that bound the earth.

She sank down to the yellow grass, plucked a wilted fragrant flower with difficulty and pressed it to her chest.

Gwendolyn! her name sounded through a daze. She was freezing and falling into oblivion.

If that is my husband, she mused, I would rather freeze and die than go back to him...

Gwendolyn felt that she was lifted into someone’s arms and carried, no doubt back to the house she hated.

***

The young woman woke up because she was warm and well. She sat up a little and saw that she was in a spacious hut on a wicker bed under a fur blanket. A wrinkled old woman was bustling around the hearth, stirring a fragrant broth in a pot with a long wooden spoon.

Gwendolyn leaned back on the wicker bed with relief, thinking, I am not in my husband’s house, that is for sure. It is better to be with strangers than with him...

The old woman turned to her the wrinkled face that looked like a baked apple,

You are safe here. I will take care of you, she rasped as if she had read Gwendolyn’s mind.

...In due time, Gwendolyn gave birth to a strong black-haired boy. The old woman helped with the delivery, which she had done many times before, but the stubborn baby would not leave his mother’s womb and she was bleeding profusely.

Gwendolyn grew weaker by the minute and started realising that her time was running out.

Please... she addressed the old woman faintly. Do not abandon my son...

Do not worry, child. I will take care of him.

Gwendolyn was so weak that she was unable to understand the old woman’s words. She died a few moments later.

***

A blue-eyed handsome man entered the hut. The old woman who was holding the baby bowed obsequiously.

I have done everything you asked, my lord. The woman is dead.

Lucifer nodded.

Let me see the boy! he commanded.

The old woman unfolded the homespun blanket. A healthy, black-haired boy appeared before his father’s eyes. Lucifer touched the boy with his left hand, a bright red ruby ring glittering on his index finger. The child fidgeted and started crying. Lucifer pulled his hand away; there was a nail-shaped burn on the baby’s chest under his left nipple.

Well, Gwendolyn has done her job. He will make a loyal servant. Now you must fulfil your destiny. Here, take this, he took off the ruby ring. Give it to the child on the day he turns thirteen. The child will receive everything necessary for his future status when the time comes. And I dub him Asmodeus[2]!

From the conversation between a fallen angel and a demon:

Tell me, Asmodeus, Lucifer said to his servant, why do you ignore my gift?

Not at all, my lord! the demon bowed subserviently. It has been kept in the tower of Brugenwald[3] castle for seven centuries. I try not to interfere with the course of events...

Let everything take its course... Lucifer agreed. Now tell me, you have come up with a new entertainment, have you not?

You are right, as always, my lord!

Chapter 1

The Vatican, 1472

Cardinal Rodrigo de Borgia, the forty-year-old nephew of the pope Callixtus III, was unusually handsome. He stood out from the rest of the clergy. De Borgia was tall and athletic with thick jet-black hair and almond-shaped eyes. If it had not been for his cassock, he might have passed for a count or a duke indulging in entertainment.

Rodrigo was very eager for entertainment, as indeed were all the servants of our Lord gathered there at that time. Had the Lord seen from heaven what his servants were doing, he would have been horrified.

Anticipating his imminent death, Callixtus decided to organise a celebration and enjoy earthly temptations. Although he was quite old and ill, he was content with watching the intercourse between his young Catalan priests[4] and cardinals with fornicatrices[5]. It had been one of his favourite pastimes lately. The Catalans and cardinals would not refuse the wishes of the pontifex and willingly took part in orgies, gratifying the eccentricity of the dying man. Callixtus liked to say to be able to enjoy the life lived is to live it twice.

As usual, this time the celebration gradually turned into an orgy. The priests got drunk and passionate and, at the most appropriate moment, women in red dresses wearing a lot of makeup appeared.

Rodrigo loved fornicatrices; he was especially tempted by them shamelessly satisfying any of his needs. Sometimes he would play little frolics such as shoving chocolates into women’s bodices and pulling them out with his tongue. The chocolate caper was Callixtus’ favourite. He wanted to enjoy it this time as well.

Rodrigo! he called and coughed up some blood. I wish you to taste something sweet.

The nephew nodded knowingly. He took a handful of sweets from a bowl and headed towards a very pretty fornicatrix. She was dark with a copper tinted complexion, her beautiful cheekbones accentuated by artfully applied blush and her eyes expertly made up to look even bigger and deeper.

What is your name? Rodrigo asked the girl.

Vannozza dei Cattanei, she replied, knowing why the cardinal had approached her. She quickly loosened the lacing of her bodice which made her lovely breasts almost completely visible.

Oh, such beautiful flowers! Rodrigo gave her a compliment. Do not loosen any more lacing and do not deprive me of the opportunity to enjoy a little caper.

After those words, he poured the melted confetti all over the charmer’s breasts. Vannozza fluttered her charms a little and the sweets rolled into the secluded place in between.

Rodrigo put his arms around the woman and started pulling them out with his tongue. Vannozza threw her head back; she was pleased with the touch of the cardinal’s full lips; they aroused her.

Finally, Rodrigo pulled out the last confetto to the general delight of the audience. His lips were smeared with chocolate. He wiped them with a handkerchief taken out from the sleeve of his cassock.

Rodrigo licked the chocolate off the charmer’s breasts and clung to her lips. The kiss was passionate and long. Although he did not expect it, the cardinal desired Vannozza with wild passion. Unceremoniously he threw her onto the velvet pillows which were strewn under the trees for such purposes. Several other couples were already indulging in carnal pleasures there.

Callixtus got up from his armchair which was in the deep shade of the trees. He had always admired his nephew’s masculine strength. Even now, the old man was shivering with delight as he watched Rodrigo take the woman, driving her to ecstasy with his strength.

Callixtus approached the lovers.

Bravo, my boy! You are so strong! Show me what else you are capable of!

Rodrigo took off his cassock, tore Vannozza’s dress, turned her on her stomach and entered her from behind.

Ooh! Callixtus drawled.

His face became covered in sweat and with his eyes he devoured the way in which Rodrigo took the fornicatrix over and over again in an animal pose. Callixtus started shaking and Rodrigo and the others became afraid for his health.

The cardinal ran up to the pontifex, his cassock undone to the groin level from where his dignity hung shamelessly.

Are you ill, your holiness?

No! I am fine! And I want to enjoy the last moments of my life! Fugit irreparabile tempus[6]! he almost shouted, looking at the cardinal with wide wild eyes. I want you to continue! All as one! While I am watching!

Callixtus started coughing and sank to the ground. Standing in front of his holiness with his vergogna[7] unconcealed, the cardinal was confused; Callixtus was wheezing and his body was convulsing in death throes.

Fornicatrices got scared, grabbed their clothes and scattered. Only half-naked priests remained in front of the expiring pontifex. Pope Callixtus III died without repentance.

***

Vannozza had almost reached piccola via[8] Pizzo di Merlo where her father’s house was located. Jacopo Pinctori, an artist, made a living by spending his days loitering around Rome, trying to capture images of noble madonnas getting into a carriage. He would instantly grasp the proportions, the oval and the facial features.

Then Pinctori would finish the drawing and went to the given madonna’s rich house and tried to sell it. As a rule, he had to communicate with servants. They would take the drawing, show it to their matron and she, after seeing herself a bit too adorned, agreed to buy it for a couple silver coins. That was barely enough for Pinctori to fulfil his personal needs. He did not even think of his daughter Vannozza because he believed that her upkeep was the job of her husband, Guido dei Cattanei who was also an artist and spent his days in a drunken state.

Vannozza was left to her own devices and there was nothing for her to do but sell her beautiful body. But she was dreaming of something else entirely; she wanted to find a rich lover who would be her ticket out of poverty.

Suddenly someone caught her arm. Vannozza came to her senses. A beautiful man wearing a black velvet doublet embroidered with silver threads stood before her. His left hand was leaning on an elegant mahogany cane with silver serpent knob. The girl noticed a blood red ruby on his index finger.

Signore[9]! What is it that you want? she bowed.

The same thing everyone else wants, the man smiled, baring his dazzling white teeth.

If only my teeth were that colour, Vannozza mused, I would certainly find a wealthy lover.

The man took the woman by the arm and, without explanation, led her to his carriage which was draped with black silk. Vannozza was not in the mood and she pulled away,

Signore, you should be ashamed, offending a poor woman like that! Where are you taking me?

To the place where all your dreams will come true, the stranger replied and smiled again. Trust me.

He opened the carriage door and gave Vannozza a little push. She sat down on a dark red velvet seat. The man settled across from her.

So Vannozza dei Cattanei, you really are a bella donna[10], as they say. I hope you are smart as well.

The woman kept quiet as she realised that the stranger did not want her body, but something else instead.

The stranger who seemed to penetrate her innermost thoughts continued,

Yes, something else indeed! I am offering you a deal.

What sort of a deal? Are you a lawyer? the beauty said at last.

More like servo del diavolo[11]. Are you prepared to sell your soul to the devil? And receive what you want in return?

Vannozza did not hesitate,

Yes, I am very prepared! she replied, raising her chin defiantly.

Bravo! I was not wrong about you, Vannozza! Let us seal our deal.

The stranger looked at his ruby ring, the stone turned a rich red, giving the impression that human blood would start pouring out of it any moment.

Vannozza felt unbearable pain under her left breast.

***

Time went on, but nothing changed in Vannozza’s life. She thought about the meeting with the mysterious stranger a lot. It must have been some perverted count having some fun. Simple lovemaking is not enough for him so he burns women’s breasts.

She vaguely remembered their meeting and had finally convinced herself that that had been a temporary follia[12] and the count a simple pervert.

Vannozza’s husband, Guido dei Cattanei, finally drank himself to death. Sometimes he would not come home for several days in a row and that did not bother the young woman. Her husband was a burden and she prayed to both God and the Devil to take her husband. And finally her prayers were answered, but she could only speculate by whom. Guido was found dead in the neighbouring street next to a tavern. There were no signs of violence on his body and his death remained a mystery.

The young widow was in mourning for a short time and almost immediately married a Milanese called Giorgio della Croce. The merchant arrived to Rome on guild business, could not resist and got tangled in Vannozza’s auburn hair. He married her in the end. Della Croce was much older than Vannozza but despite this, the woman became attached to him and felt a sense of gratitude for helping her to cease her engagement in the shameful trade.

The financial situation of madonna della Croce had improved; the Milanese bought a small, but sturdy house on Via Ricasoli, near the Colosseum.

Madonna found the long-awaited peace and led a decent life. Giorgio della Croce constantly travelled to Milan, Florence, Siena and the young woman would be left alone for long periods of time.

One June afternoon, on the threshold of signora della Croce’s new house appeared the very same handsome cardinal who had entertained her at an orgy almost a year ago.

The woman became confused and agitated; her flesh desired the handsome cardinal, but her mind told her that she should behave with dignity.

How did you find me, your eminence? the woman asked.

It was very simple. Despite the fact that Rome is big, if you have money, you can find anyone you want.

Vannozza smiled,

I am not a fornicatrix anymore. My husband, a merchant from Milan, is Giorgio della Croce, a worthy and kind man.

And let him stay that way, Rodrigo laughed. You do not have to sell your body anymore. I have a suggestion for you; become my mistress and you will not want for anything!

What a wonderful beginning of a conversation, Vannozza raised her eyebrows in surprise. My husband is away on business and he will be gone for a week so I am at your disposal.

Vannozza went into the bedroom and motioned for the cardinal to follow her. Rodrigo de Borgia was insatiable.

***

In due time, madonna della Croce had her first child and Giorgio named him Juan. Sior[13] Giorgio della Croce was perfectly convinced that the strong black-haired boy was his son and Vannozza did not dissuade her husband.

The cardinal visited madonna Vannozza often, almost every time her husband was away. Rodrigo was happy that he had produced a son and decided not to limit himself to one child.

Giorgio della Croce was a smart man and suspected that his wife was having an affair with Borgia. But he kept silent; the memory of the late pope Callixtus III was still fresh in Rome.

Two years later, Vannozza gave birth to the second son – Cesare. De Borgia was delighted and gave his faithful mistress a bill of sale for a real estate. Vannozza della Croce became a wealthy woman, owner of inns and houses, which she rented out to artists and women of easy virtue. Her husband knew nothing of this; she kept him in the dark...

Chapter 2

Thuringia, Brugenwald Castle, spring of 1945

In March, the valiant Soviet troops entered Saxony and, having liberated Magdeburg, Halle and Hildesheim, advanced into Thuringia as far as Hannover and Celle. The Second world war was coming to an end. Large fascist groups were defeated, many of them having been captured as entire divisions. But unfortunately, not all of them. On the territory of Thuringia, especially near the Harz mountain range, the remnants of the once powerful and intimidating SS had settled down. The Nazi lowlifes appeared in different places, fighting guerrilla wars and striking unexpectedly and accurately, which entailed human casualties, not only among our soldiers, but also among the German civilian population.

Alongside the leading troops of the Soviet Army went communications officers who methodically did their job. They were not distinguished by heroism in the battles on the front line, their service was unobtrusive and almost unnoticeable. The communications officers were only remembered when the connection was broken by yet another Nazi raid.

Dmitri Malyshev went through almost the entire war, starting in 1942, working as a communications officer. He had laid thousands of kilometres of wires along Ukraine, Poland, Czech Republic, Saxony and, of course, Thuringia. The war was coming to an end and Dmitri often dreamt of returning to Moscow to his fiancée Irina.

During all the years, he had been sending her letters full of love and hope. After tiresome days and sometimes nights subordinated to only one thing – accurate telephone communication between the advancing troops and the command, Dmitri imagined Irina in a dazzling white wedding dress and a transparent veil decorated with flowers.

Before the war, his neighbour in a communal apartment had gotten married and his bride was wearing that exact outfit. Dmitri had been struck by the beauty of the bride as well as her dress which brought back memories of a kind fairy tale his grandmother used to tell him when he was a boy. So he firmly decided that his Irinka would walk down the aisle wearing the same classy dress or maybe even a better one.

After the war, Dmitri dreamt of getting married, having a professional career in communications, earning a lot of money and pampering his wife in every possible way; buying her beautiful dresses, shoes and hats so that all the neighbours would be green with envy.

He often remembered his communal apartment in Lefortovo; his mother worked shifts in a car-repair factory, earning little money and they had been constantly poor...

His father died when Dmitri was ten, the wounds from the civil war had taken their toll. One day his father wound up in a hospital and never came out of there again. Dmitri remembered his father’s funeral; it was in the winter and it was minus thirty degrees Celsius. His nose froze on that day and would later turned red in the slightest cold. His mother was working constantly and his grandmother was raising him. She graduated from the Tsar's gymnasium, receiving a decent education, which she tried to pass on to her grandson, especially her knowledge of the German language. When Dmitri was just a boy, his grandma read him stories. So he believed in them