Death Mage's Curse

by Jon Bender

  “You bring me to the nicest places,” Shana said behind him.

  He turned to face her. “You knew this was a brothel?”

  “Of course. This is my city, and this is as good a place as any.” Moving behind the bar, she selected two glasses from underneath before reaching up for a dark bottle on the shelf. “I need a drink.” Filling a cup with dark red wine, she gave him a questioning look.

  Corin shook his head. “I need a clear head,” he said. She shifted her eyes to look questioningly at the other men, who joined her and took seats on the high stools.

  The arrangement of the stools would not allow Corin to address the others properly when they arrived, so he lowered himself tentatively into one of the deep chairs. The smell of perfume intensified as he leaned back. He would need a bath afterward. Shana took the chair opposite his, perching her slight form on the very edge as though reducing how much of it she touched.

  “I made a mistake,” she said, staring into her glass.

  “We both did,” he replied. “Deena out-maneuvered us, but her trap has been sprung and won’t work again. Once we have recovered and regrouped, we will take the palace and your throne.”

  She set the half empty glass on the table. “I am not sure I deserve it.”

  “You do,” Corin said firmly.

  “If you truly believe that, I must wonder why you have not tried to… further our relationship.”

  Corin glanced over his shoulder at the captain and Bash. Both seemed to be making a point of not looking in their direction.

  Turning back, he found Shana still watching him, waiting. “We are at war,” he said.

  “Exactly. If we don’t make the time, we may never have one.”

  Corin didn’t know what to say. He wanted her, there was no denying it. And he had forgiven her. He knew that now. Looking at her, he remembered seeing her fall from her horse, and the reason became clear. To love her was to risk losing her. How did Jaxom do it? In every dangerous situation, Adriana was by his side. In fact, she would be nowhere else. Could he have the same thing? Shana answered the question when she stood and walked around the table before settling into his lap. Then she kissed him. Her hand worked its way from his mail-covered shoulder to the back of his neck as the kiss grew more passionate. He felt her shift as his desire grew.

  She leaned back for a breath and smiled. “I am sure there are plenty of rooms here to choose from,” she said, squirming in his lap to emphasize her point.

  Corin was spared a difficult decision when they heard a throat cleared loudly from the door.

  “Well, it’s about time,” Celia said with a smirk. “I, for one, was getting tired of you two dancing about each other.” Standing next to her, Danika nodded in agreement. “But I thought you might show more…refinement, dear cousin.”

  Shana leaned a little further back but did not stand. She seemed perfectly at ease being caught in such an intimate position. He had never seen this side of her before. “You are just upset that no one has ever thought so highly of you,” he said, hoping his wit would cover the fact that his face was flushed in embarrassment. Tamrick grunted a laugh, earning him a hard look and his sister’s fist in his shoulder.

  “If you are finished,” Alimar, said, entering with Nelix. “I believe we were called here for a reason.”

  Shana paused for a moment, smiling at him, before taking her own chair again. The others found their seats. “Are the men away from the palace wall?” Corin asked the general.

  “Yes. Those who wanted to surrender have done so. The rest were allowed back through the gate. Cribble is figuring out how and where to hold them until this is over. I don’t think we can trust them enough yet to give their weapons back,” Nelix said.

  “Agreed. We are going to need to break through the wall.” Corin looked at Tamrick and Danika.

  “Some damage has already been done, but I don’t think their mages were concentrating on repelling our magic,” Danika said.

  “That won’t be the case next time,” her brother added.

  “You will focus your attacks on three sections of the wall. Only cast to counter theirs,” he said to Alimar. “How long until the dragon has flame again?”

  The death mage regarded him with his usual cool expression. “More than a day, Your Majesty. It has to be fed.”

  Corin cringed. The dragon’s “food” would be slain enemy soldiers, which they had in abundance. When learning the workings of the risen beast, Corin had struggled not to vomit as he watched half a dozen dead men, stripped of armor and cloth, march up to the dragon to be eaten chunks at a time. Corin could not deny the advantage the dragon brought them, and he would endure the cost to keep it.

  “Without it, we will suffer heavy casualties against their mages in such tight quarters,” Corin continued. “I want your risen soldiers to be the first through.”

  “We will lose many of them that way, and it will take a long time to restore their numbers,” Alimar said, his brow furrowing.

  “You will have ample time to create more once we have taken the city. We must establish Shana’s authority before moving on, and living soldiers will be harder to come by the farther east we move.”

  Alimar spread his hands in surrender. “The death mages will do their part.”

  “Good. You all know what must be done. I want to be ready to breach the wall in one hour,” Corin said. When no one spoke, those assembled filed out through the double doors.

  Shana drained the last of her wine. “What should we do until then?”

  Corin stood and took her hand, leading her to the stairs. “What I was too stubborn to do before.”

  It only took Nelix half an hour to get the alliance forces in position and come knocking on the door to inform Corin. With Shana’s help, he quickly donned his armor, and they returned to the palace wall with both their escorts following closely. The risen soldiers were standing in the front ranks, with Alimar, Warin, and Kasric standing behind each of the three units they had been broken into. On the wall, the Bruxan soldiers and mages shifted nervously as they looked into the glowing eyes of hundreds of dead soldiers. Corin was sure they would have heard stories by now about the risen, that they felt no fear or pain, would not die as men did, and above all else would offer no mercy. Mixed among the dead soldiers, Corin noticed that the few risen mages under Alimar’s command had also joined them. A few of the risen bore fresh wounds from when the outer city had fallen. One of the dead mages was little more than a charred husk of red and black meat that stood unmoving near the rear. The living soldiers had given more space to that one, creating a small gap in the line. Corin could hardly blame them.

  Shana was speaking quietly to Lord Bash, who had joined Corin’s entourage by default when he appointed himself the captain of her personal guard. She finished speaking, and Bash brought a fist his chest then moved out of the circle of protection, calling to his men.

  “What was that about?” Corin asked. Shana looked over to him with a satisfied smile, and Corin reflected that he was wearing a similar smile after their short but enjoyable encounter. He spared a silent curse for Nelix’s efficiency.

  “I gave him orders to do everything he could to find my sister and bring her to me.”

  “Alive?”

  “If possible,” she said, shifting her gaze to the palace.

  Corin wondered about her motivations. Perhaps she simply wanted to gloat or to execute the would-be queen herself. Corin did not think such malice existed in Shana’s heart, resolved not to concern himself with Deena’s fate. He would leave that to Shana. He looked to Nelix and nodded. The general waved his hand at the signaler, who lifted a horn to his lips and blew a long, hard note. When the sound died away, it was repeated by several horns throughout the city. The mages and archers on the wall were the first to respond. Waves of magic and arrows arced out toward the alliance and were met by the same. Mages assigned to ward off the attacks did their best to do so as his own archers loosed their arrows. Other m
agic was already blasting into the wall itself, tearing out chunks of white stone, which seemed to heal itself as quickly as it was damaged. Corin had expected the Bruxan earth mages to protect the wall but was shocked to realize that they were not participating in the battle at all. There were no hunks of stone flying out from the defenders, and no massive golems. The breeches continued to form, allowing them access, but it would only take longer and cost them more lives this way. Corin had hoped that the gate itself would be the quickest opening, but it had not taken long to realize that the earth mages had placed more stone directly behind the iron-bound wood and portcullis.

  The alliance mages realized what was happening and several shifted their attacks to the gate. The effect was almost instantaneous as the earth mages repairing that section were quickly overwhelmed, and the barrier crumbled under a hail of fire, stone, and flashing bolts of lightning. When the breach was complete, Celia looked to him expectantly, and he shook his head. He wanted all three open to ensure they were not bottlenecked. It would take longer, more time for his men to die from arrows or magic, but it was necessary. To keep the most men alive, they needed to attack as one on multiple fronts.

  With the first section down, another breach formed and then the third. Corin watched with satisfaction as two mages who had been standing atop the wall tumbled down amongst the cloud of white dust. They were two his army would not have to face inside. He waved his hand, and the signal for the charge blew out across the city. The sound was quickly drowned out by the voices of thousands, who shouted and rushed forward, following the risen. Soon, the first dead soldiers were climbing over the rubble. Archers on the wall loosed arrows in a panic, but they had no effect on the risen. The durgen arrived, the swift riders firing down and targeting the enemy mages. The first group of Bruxan soldiers rushed forward to seal the breaches, and Corin saw risen leap forward. Ignoring the swords and spears that pierced their bodies, they hacked brutally at the Bruxan defenders. It was an amazingly horrific sight to behold as the risen, controlled by one mind, cut down a rank of defenders and stepped forward as one. Then again and again, each of the dead who fell instantly replaced by one behind. The advance slowed as the defenders discovered that only destroying the head would stop these soldiers, but this was no easy task with the steel helms they wore. The charred mage moved forward then, the defenders nearest recoiling at the sight. Raising both its hands, two flaming whips formed and the risen laid into them, unconcerned with the damage it caused to the risen soldiers on either side in such close quarters. The defense shattered, and the living alliance soldiers flooded through.

  Corin drew his sword and began advancing. “The walls have not been cleared yet,” Nelix said.

  “So clear them,” he replied. Nelix cursed and started shouting orders to the signaler who relayed them through his horn. The riders and mages answered the calls by aiming for any who remained on the wall. When he saw Shana beginning to follow him, he met her eyes and shook his head. “Stay here,” his tone brooking no argument. He could not spend time protecting her when his men needed him to lead. A look of defiance flashed across her face before she nodded.

  Celia moved beside him with her own sword bared. “You will pay for that later.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you were hoping to visit her bed soon, you are going to have to work for it now,” she said, laughing.

  Shrugging in momentary regret, Corin put it from his mind. Concentrating on anything other than the battle before him would get him and a lot of others killed. By the time he reached the breached gate, the alliance soldiers were already pressing forward. He dismounted just inside. The main doors to the palace and several side gates had been destroyed, and the risen were forcing their way through. At the top of the white stairs, two risen grabbed a Bruxan soldier and heaved him down behind them. Corin watched the man’s face as he stared up at the glowing eyes around him. The soldier dropped his sword to the side and raised his hands in surrender just as the first blade hacked into his leg. He was swarmed by the dead, blocking Corin’s view. When the risen finally moved on, all that was left was a pile of unrecognizable flesh and bone. Blood flowed freely down and pooled on the white steps.

  “I know Jaxom’s forces will help us win, but sometimes I hate him for it,” Celia said. Corin did not answer. A part of him agreed, but the death mages had not brought this battle about. Jaxom and Alimar had given them weapons. Corin had decided to use them.

  He and Celia pushed past the living soldiers and up the stairs just behind the risen, puddles of blood causing a slight suction on his boots. Reaching the threshold, he found himself standing next to the charred mage, the smell of burnt human flesh strong in the air. When he looked into ruined face and glowing eyes, it took all of his will power not to vomit. Then, even more disturbing, the dead mage smiled at him, blackened skin cracking open allowing old blood to flow out.

  “Do wish me to continue pushing forward or allow your men to take the lead?” the risen spoke. The words cracked and gargled from the ruin of its throat.

  Corin’s first reaction was to lash out with his sword, but he realized that this was likely Alimar speaking. Corin could not see either Warin or Kasric purposefully trying to scare him. Getting over his shock, he returned the smile with confidence. Maybe the reserved and calculating death mage had a sense of humor after all. If a twisted one. “Yes, pull your risen back. Many of the Bruxans will be surrendering, and I want to spare as many as possible.” The burned mage saluted, almost mockingly.

  “I would have a few strong words with that man if I were you,” Celia said, when the charred mage moved off. She looked more upset than he was.

  “Perhaps you are right,” he said, turning back to the battle.

  What he saw before him removed any levity he felt. The risen were holding position as men flowed around them. Dozens of bodies littered the floor and alliance soldiers were stacking them in piles to a clear path. Hefting his sword, he moved deeper into the palace with his escort. Nelix caught up with them, bringing two storm mages. Corin was glad to see them. There were still likely to be many casters throughout the halls of the large structure.

  Their advance went swiftly. The Bruxans began surrendering hundreds at a time. Corin knew that Deena was likely to make her stand in the royal family’s rooms as it was the most defensible position. Now leading the large group of soldiers, Corin went on to the next level. They were met by a defending force that clogged the wide hall shoulder-to-shoulder, weapons bared and stern faces showing no sign of capitulation. They were outnumbered four to one. Nelix and Celia were beginning to draw Corin back when fighting broke out to the rear of Bruxans. Magic flashed out, and the Bruxan soldiers looked nervously over their shoulders. They could not see what was happening any more than he could. Men deeper down the hall began turning to face this new threat. Corin knew the smart thing to do would be to retreat and come back with more men. Instead, he shrugged Celia and Nelix off and raised his sword. Shouting a wordless cry, he charged forward. Whoever was behind the Bruxans would only benefit from having them pressed from the other side.

  He was hardly aware of those around him joining his dash, his concentration solely on the man he was about to meet. Balls of flame sped over the Bruxans, headed straight for him, and in that moment, he wondered if this was the end. Bolts of lightning flew from behind him, intercepting the cast. The bolts collided in a blinding explosion of white and red. The magic shattered, raining down on all nearby. He felt a burning at his neck and shoulder but ignored the pain as he took the final steps. A soldier before him, a boy of no more than sixteen, met his eyes with fear. Corin readied himself to slay the youth, and at the last second, plunged his sword into the unsuspecting man behind. The lad dropped his sword and went to his knees in surrender. Corin grabbed the boy and threw him behind as he stepped forward to meet the next, his escort crashing into the Bruxans half a step behind. The faces and swords were a blur as he used short and stabbing strokes to cut a path, gr
abbing any who surrendered and handling them as he had the first. Magic flared around him. More and more Bruxans discarded their weapons and fell to their knees. Corin cleared the last line near what he thought must be the center when a mage in blue turned to meet him. Corin charged forward, and the mage raised her hand, preparing to kill him. Something large and reflective flew past him, forcing the mage to raise her arm. The reaction saved her life as the sword sliced through her arm instead of her chest but bought Corin enough time to drive his sword through her stomach. Pressed close to her, he could smell her perfume mixing with the scent of sweat and blood. He watched the light leave her eyes.

  The fight lasted only minutes more as the Bruxans soon realized they were outmatched and began surrendering in droves. Moving to the end of the hall, Corin found Lord Bash leading the force of Bruxans wearing the blue armband. Standing behind him was Shana, blood staining her shirt and her dark hair unbound in disarray. She had found a sword somewhere, and its surface was coated in blood.

  Corin moved between the kneeling men. Bash stepped quickly out of his way but did not go too far. “I told you to wait outside,” he said, stepping in close and lowering his voice.

  Shana lifted her chin and met his angry stare with one of her own. “You had no authority to do so. We are in my home, and I have not sworn fealty to you or anyone else.”

  Corin paused as her words sank in. He was helping her obtain the throne, but they were partners, not lord and vassal. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. “We are equals in that respect, but when it comes to this campaign, you must heed me. If you had been killed, you would have left no clear line of succession. That would have delayed us while I found someone I could trust to take the throne. Worse still, it would have meant contention, even civil war.”

  His controlled demeanor and reasonable argument seemed to take some of the defiance out of her. “This is my kingdom. I cannot allow others to die in my name without taking the same risks.” Corin had no argument for that. How many times had he said the same?