Chapter Thirteen
Jerrie’s New Friend
Jerrie woke up on a large down mattress underneath the finest silk bedding he had ever seen. The last thing he remembered was everyone bowing to Boris as he accepted his Kingship. He remembered going down to a knee and then everything was hazy after that. He felt like he remembered bits and pieces, but nothing definitive. He did remember Crissy arguing with someone at some point. Thinking of her, he immediately scanned the room. His boots and weapons had been removed, but they lay right next to the bed. Whoever had put him in the bed had at least had the decency to leave him in his clothing.
The room was empty, but light was still coming through the two big windows. The sun was low in the sky. From the aching in his stomach, he was certain that it was past supper. He threw his leg over the side of the bed and started sliding his boots on. He may have missed supper, but he was going to find something to eat. He stood slowly and realized that he felt much better. He didn’t get dizzy as he stood. He tucked all of his daggers away and made his way to the door. When he opened it, he found a guard standing on one side of the door and Crissy sitting in a chair on the other side.
“Oh good, you’re up,” she said excitedly.
“I’m hungry,” he stated.
“I would expect you to be. This buffoon will take us to the kitchen now. Your friends have all eaten already, but they have all been waiting for you to wake up. This one is supposed to send word to them that you are awake, but he can wait until we get you something to eat.” Every time she mentioned the guard, she gave him a look that would make a battle-hardened soldier feel like a small child. This was confirmed by the fact that the soldier, who was easily a head taller than Jerrie, shifted nervously every time her eyes fell on him.
She turned from Jerrie back to the guard. “Well, aren’t you going to lead Master Jerrie to the kitchen?”
The guard turned to look at Jerrie, who gave the soldier an understanding smile and nodded. The guard turned and led them down the hall to a stairwell. The stairwell must have been a servant’s stairwell because it led straight down into the kitchen. When they walked into the kitchen, the guard made his way over to one of the servants and Crissy made her way toward the cook. Jerrie followed her.
“You should start with something easy. Your stomach hasn’t had much real food lately. Start with some soup or broth and then you can try something more solid.” She looked to the cook. “He’s been very sick, so watch the spices.”
The cook was a short man. His head was bald on the top and quickly thinning around the sides and back. He obviously didn’t like other people telling him how to do his job, but he was at least smart enough not to protest. After staring at her for a moment, he nodded his head and turned toward Jerrie. “Do you have any preferences, sir?”
“As long as it’s warm,” Jerrie said with a smile.
The cook nodded and made his way over to a large pot. He stirred the coals inside his stove and threw in a couple of extra sticks on top of them. He opened the cover on top of the stove and placed the pot over it.
Jerrie walked out of the kitchen and made his way into the small room next to it. The room had a table that was about ten paces in length with a bench on each side. This was where the servants ate. It was still much better than most of the places Jerrie would have eaten outside the palace.
Crissy came in a few steps behind him and took a seat across the table from him. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“A lot better, thanks to you.”
“Don’t start thanking me yet. I put a lot of effort into putting you back together. If you don’t let yourself heal, you’re going to start upsetting me,” Crissy said.
“Trust me, you don’t want to make her upset,” Rundo said, walking into the room. Grundel walked in behind him.
Jerrie stood up and moved to his friends. Rundo wrapped his arms around Jerrie’s waist and then stepped back and looked at Crissy. “She nearly tore our heads off when we tried to make her leave so the palace healers could look you over. Boris finally just gave in and let her stay. I think those healers would have been more comfortable trying to put a man’s heart back in his chest. She stood behind them telling them how wrong they were doing everything before she finally just pushed them out of the way and did it all herself. By the way, where have you been and how did she end up getting stuck with you?”
Jerrie hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain why he had gone out searching for the poppy and how it had gotten him attacked.
Crissy stepped forward and explained for him. “Jerrie was attacked by some very evil men after leaving a tavern near my home. The men have killed dozens of others, but Jerrie fought all four of them off. One of the men had a poisoned dagger. When I realized what had happened, I brought him in and treated him. The treatment kept him asleep most of the time. He is mostly recovered but his body had become accustom to the poppy, which has slowed his recovery.”
Grundel looked at Jerrie suspiciously. He had fought with him on multiple occasions, and he had trouble believing that four street ruffians would have been able to get the jump on him. When Jerrie looked at him, he saw something in his eyes that confirmed his suspicions. Jerrie didn’t want to talk about it, and Grundel didn’t want to push it.
The cook came in, carrying a platter with two bowls on it and two chunks off of a loaf of bread. “Will the rest of you be looking for something to eat as well?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to a little something,” Rundo said with a smile.
“You haven’t ever said no to food in your life,” Grundel joked.
Jerrie couldn’t help but laugh.
“And you, Your Highness?” the cook asked Grundel.
“I’ll take whatever you have already made. Don’t make anything special.”
The cook nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. A moment later, he returned with two more bowls. The four of them sat down and ate as Rundo and Grundel filled Jerrie in on what had happened over the last few days. When they mentioned Boris’ promise to help get them a meeting with the necromancer, Jerrie interrupted, turning to Crissy. “Didn’t you say something about knowing the necromancer?”
“I wouldn’t say I know him, but I have met him once. He doesn’t get out much. We didn’t really talk, but I got the impression that he wasn’t comfortable around people. Not living ones anyway.”
“Do you know how we could meet with him?” Jerrie asked.
Crissy looked around the room at all of them before turning back to Jerrie. “I can get word to him, but I don’t know if he will be comfortable seeing you all at the same time.”
“That would be a big help.” They all turned to the doorway where Boris was standing. “I sent a messenger, but he was scared off by what he said were ghosts.”
Crissy nodded. “I will go to the manor once I know Jerrie has eaten something, Your Highness,” she said, turning back toward Jerrie.
Jerrie sat back down at the table. “And we thought Frau was pushy,” he said, nudging Grundel.
Once Jerrie had finished his soup, Crissy stood. “I’ll go see what I can do about the necromancer. You need to get some rest.”
“Why don’t you wait till tomorrow? I’ll go with you,” Jerrie told her.
Rundo and Grundel shared a look. “I’ll go with her. You need to get some rest,” Rundo teased.
Jerrie was frustrated, but he knew they were right. He wasn’t in any condition to escort her. The sickness was gone, but if today were any indication, he would be exhausted easily. “Go. I’ll go get some rest so I am ready for whatever comes next.”
Jerrie and Grundel both laughed out loud. Even Boris couldn’t resist the smile that crept across his face.
“I’ll go with them,” Grundel said to Jerrie.
Boris nodded to the guard. “Jerrie, the guard will lead you back to your room.”
Jerrie just shook his head in frustration. He had never been reliant on anyone in his life, but
he was forced to rely on his friends now. He turned and let the guard lead him out of the kitchen and back to his room.
Chapter Fourteen
A Necromancer’s Manor
Rundo and Grundel followed Crissy through the streets of Portwein. It was a long walk. The Necromancer lived on the far side of the city. His manor backed up to the wall near the eastern gate. The closer they got to it, the fewer people they saw on the streets. Necromancers were an unnerving sort, and even those who were familiar with them were never comfortable around them.
The three of them attracted a lot of attention as they moved through the streets. Crissy could have made her way through the streets unnoticed, even Rundo could have avoided attention, but Grundel couldn’t avoid attention anywhere he went. Grundel had the build of a dwarf with wide shoulders and a thick waist. If his legs were like tree trunks, then his arms would be thick branches. Everyone they passed turned to stare at the towering six-foot dwarf with his unnaturally blue eyes and metallic blonde hair.
By the time they turned onto the street that followed the wall, there was no one left to stare. Grundel looked down the street at the necromancer’s manor. The manor was surrounded by a six-foot stonewall. The stones were burned and blackened, making the manor even more inhospitable. The house’s three unimpressive stories with its vacant windows made the place even more foreboding.
As they approached the gate, they all felt a chill wash over them. They all froze in place and turned to look at each other.
“It’s normal,” Crissy told them.
Rundo looked at her suspiciously. “There is nothing normal about this.”
Grundel reached up and banged on the gate. What happened next, none of them were prepared for. A ghost appeared in front of the gate. The gray spectral upper body of a man hovered on the other side of the gate.
“Why have you come?” the ghost asked in its bone-chilling voice.
Crissy stepped up to the gate. “We have come to request an audience with Phelim. If you would, please inform your master that Crissy would like to cash in her favor.”
The ghost disappeared. They stood outside the gate, waiting for a few moments, and then the lock on the chain opened and dropped to the ground. The chain wrapped around the bars fell away. Grundel and Rundo turned to Crissy, who pushed the gate open and walked through.
As they walked toward the high arched entrance, they noticed piles of bones along the path. As they approached the first pile, it began to move. They all froze in place, and Grundel and Rundo both drew their weapons. The rest of the bones began to stir, and the three of them watched in shock and amazement as the bones pieced together. Skulls rolled onto shoulders as arms and legs rolled across the ground and found their places. In the span of a few heartbeats, the first full human skeleton stood. The other three skeletons stood and blocked the path.
The ghost appeared between them and the skeletons. “Master Phelim will allow you to bring your weapons, but you will not take them out while you are inside the manor.”
“What about those things?” Grundel asked the ghost.
“The dead will escort you to the living. They will not harm you. Follow them, but do not bear arms inside the manor.” The ghost disappeared, and the skeletons stepped onto the cobbles leading up to the entrance.
Crissy looked nervously from the skeletons to Grundel and Rundo. “I think you should listen to the ghost.”
They both looked at her, and she shook her head. “That sounded even crazier out loud.”
Grundel slid his axe onto his back, and Rundo put his daggers back in their sheaths on his legs. He looked at Grundel, promising that he was ready if anything happened. The daggers had always been his first instinct, but his druidic magic was much more powerful, and he had learned to call on it nearly as quickly as he could draw his daggers.
Grundel, Rundo, and Crissy stood listening to the clicking of bones as the skeletons moved toward the entrance. Grundel took the lead, and Rundo and Crissy fell in behind them. As they approached the stairs, the two rusted iron doors swung inward with an ear-piercing screech of metal on metal.
Grundel walked through the entrance, and it was like he had walked out of a cave into a winter storm. The cold was unnatural, and it immediately bit into his skin. He followed the skeletons through the halls. The torches were lit, but the light was odd. Grundel had an unnatural vision. He had grown up under a mountain and even then his vision had been exceptional. Somehow, in these halls, he couldn’t see outside of the dim light provided by the torches.
They passed old oak doors, most of them rotting off of their hinges. Most of the place couldn’t have been used in years. Grundel realized that wasn’t a surprise. He wouldn’t want to live in a place where ghosts roamed openly and skeletons walked freely. He had been in fights he didn’t expect to live through and hadn’t been afraid. There wasn’t time to be afraid when you were fighting for your life. This was something different though. The unnatural cold and the skeletons turned something inside him. Walking down this hall, he realized he would rather be facing one of the Chaos Dwarfs. That was at least a threat he could face. As they approached the stairwell at the end of the hall, his thoughts were interrupted as one of the skeletons caught its foot and crashed into the stairs. Bones broke apart, some falling on the stairs and others bouncing down them. They all froze. The other three skeletons kept making their way up the steps, and the bones of the first stayed where they were.
After waiting a few more seconds to ensure the bones wouldn’t move again, they followed the other skeletons up the stairs to the open room at the top. This whole room was well lit. Light shone through the window, reflecting off of falling dust the skeletons were kicking up.
This room had obviously been undisturbed for a long time and was two-dozen paces across and a dozen wide. The floor wasn’t the only thing covered in dust. Old chairs were scattered throughout the room, but they were all falling apart. Some of the windows had shreds of curtains still hanging from them. Others didn’t even have glass left in them. The skeletons walked across the room and stopped, then turned back toward them, prompting Grundel and Rundo to reach for their weapons.
The necromancer who came out of another stairwell that led to the third floor might as well have walked out of a story. His skin was pale. Thin bony arms stuck out of baggy black sleeves. The necromancer’s eyes were dark as coal. His black hair hung past his shoulders.
“You won’t be needing those,” the necromancer said with a hoarse voice. He sounded as if he was struggling to get the words out.
Grundel and Rundo took their hands off of their weapons.
Crissy stepped out in front of them. “Master Phelim, this is Grundel, the son of King Stoneheart, King of the Dwarven Kingdoms. He has come to ask for your help.”
“It must be really serious for the dwarves to turn to magic.”
“The old king of Tiefes Loch sacrificed his soul. He is a phantom, and he is taking over the bodies of dwarves in Tiefes Loch. We don’t know how to stop him. Commander Boris told us you might be able to help,” Grundel explained.
The necromancer stood silently for a moment, staring at the ground. “I may be able to help. I don’t think I could destroy a phantom with a king’s spirit. A regular phantom is difficult enough to banish from the mortal plane. I should be able to trap the phantom. After that, we can look into ways to destroy the phantom.”
“How can we repay you?” Grundel asked.
“I am not doing this for payment. You may be able to provide me with some containers that I could use. Silver would be best, but I have one that will work for this. I am doing this because the phantom was created by Delvidge.”
The necromancer must have seen something on their faces. “Being a necromancer doesn’t make me evil. There are necromancers who follow Delvidge, but most do not. I am willing to help you. Your phantom will grow in power the longer it takes us to get there. For now, he is likely anchored to the spot where he was created. The more familiar
he becomes with his power, the further he will be able to go. I will be prepared to leave tomorrow. Come get me when you are ready.” After that, the necromancer turned and made his way to the stairs behind him.
When he disappeared up the steps, the skeletons started making their way toward them. Grundel turned and made his way back out of the building, staying ahead of the skeletons. Once he was back on the lower level, he got that unnatural feeling again. He had to force himself not to rush out of the place. They made their way outside and turned back to face the necromancer’s mansion. The skeletons came out behind them and collapsed again where they had risen originally.
The ghost appeared in front of them, and Grundel jumped back, reaching up and grabbing the handle of the axe over his shoulder. “You will come back tomorrow. Lock the gate behind you.”
They walked through the gate and secured the chain before walking away. They turned back up the street and started making their way back through the city toward the palace.
Chapter Fifteen
Leaving Portwein
When Jerrie woke up in the morning, he felt a lot better. For the first time in a long time, he felt like himself. He knew he still wasn’t fully recovered, but he was on his way there. He had been mostly immobile weeks now. The last couple of days had exhausted him, but he was recovering from each one more quickly. The pain in his head was gone, the uneasiness in his stomach had subsided, and he was no longer feeling a constant urge to find a poppy mixture. It was going to take a lot of work to get his body back to the peak that he had been maintaining before the back of his skull had been crushed, but now he had hope.
The Phantom Dwarf Page 7