by Jess Lebow
The zombie took one more step, then fell over, dead again.
The rest of the group, now aware that they were under attack, turned around and came for Ryder.
"That's right," he said, gripping his chain in the middle and spinning it in a large circle before him. "Come to Ryder." He backed up as they advanced, drawing them away from his family.
A smile broke across Ryder's lips. He'd taken on three undead giants. He could handle five undead humans by himself.
The Broken Spear appeared in the doorway just then. They rushed into the small house, drawing their weapons and surrounding the zombies.
Ryder shrugged. Help was always good. He lunged at the first undead. His chain turned its brittle corpse into a pile of broken bones. The Broken Spear followed his lead, charging into the fray and cutting down the foul beasts in short order.
Douglas threw the flaming branch into the fire pit. "Where have you been, boy?"
Angeline brushed past the old man and folded her arms around Ryder despite his chain-wrapped appearance. "We thought you were dead," she said, squeezing him tight. "We thought you had left us."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I got a little sidetracked."
Over his mother's shoulder, Ryder stared down on Samira, sitting on her knees in the corner. She looked tired and scared. The last few months had taken their toll.
Disengaging from Angeline's embrace, Ryder went to Samira's side. "It's all right. You're safe now."
Samira looked up at Ryder. There was sadness in her eyes.
Giselle came to stand beside the two of them. "So," she said, "I take it this is your wife."
Ryder looked up and nodded. There were a lot of things that needed to be said, but right now he didn't know how to say them.
"Who is this?" asked Samira.
Ryder opened his mouth, not sure what was going to come out.
Giselle cut him off. "I'm just a friend. Ryder did me a big favor, so now I'm returning—"
Outside, the high pitch of a horse shrieking tore through the night, accompanied by the sounds of battle.
Jase came bursting through the door, interrupting Giselle. "Ryder, it's your brother. He's in trouble."
Samira jumped to her feet. "Liam, no." She gathered her dress in her arms and went running into the night.
* * * *
Liam fought for his life—and the life of the baron.
They had ridden into Furrowsrich at Liam's insistence. The place was crawling with zombies. The elite guard had managed to dispatch most of the shambling dead in short order. But they had been merely a ruse.
The vampires had been lying in wait, and they pounced out of the treetops on Lord Purdun, Liam, and Knoblauch. The three men stood now with their backs together, surrounded by the hissing, shrieking undead. At the head of them all stood their mistress.
"If it isn't Lord Purdun," purred Shyressa.
"What is it you want, Shyressa?" Purdun didn't look at the vampire as he spoke, keeping his eyes on her threatening minions.
"Nothing much." There was a giddy edge to the vampire's words. "Just control of your barony."
"And you think if you kill me you'll get my throne?" Purdun shook his head. "It doesn't work that way."
"No?" toyed Shyressa. "We'll see about that."
Shyressa leaped forward wrapping her arms around the baron and biting down on his neck.
"Lord Purdun," shouted Liam. The vampire had moved so fast, he hadn't had time to react. He spun and stabbed at Shyressa, but the tip of his blade passed through the cloth of her gown and out the other side.
"Hold," shouted the baron. "Mind the others." He pointed out the advancing horde.
Liam did a double take. It wasn't the baron the vampire had wrapped in her embrace—it was Knoblauch. The veteran guardsman had been just fast enough to step in between the baron and his attacker. He'd been given the chance to atone for his sins, and he'd taken it. This was the price he paid.
Liam couldn't see Knoblauch's body, wrapped up as it was in the vampire's gown, but he could see the man struggle inside her embrace. It reminded Liam of watching a spider slowly devour its prey.
There was no more time to mourn. The vampires closed in on them, and Liam fought frantically. It was all he could do to keep their clutching, clawed hands from grasping his arms and legs. Liam felt the panic of desperation, and his sword moved faster than ever before. Still, with every passing moment, the undead closed down on him.
He was going to share the same fate as Knoblauch. He was going to be sucked dry.
A heavy rattling sound filled Liam's ears, and a pair of chains came whipping over his shoulder, knocking two vampires to the ground. Ryder appeared at Liam's side, chains flinging out from his body, slapping aside grasping claws. They laid low undead, and they forced the advancing vampires back, giving Liam back the slimmest glimmer of hope.
In the clearing space, Liam could see Shyressa again. She opened her arms, letting Knoblauch's body fall lifeless to the ground. Lifting a finger to her lips, she pushed a stray drop of the man's blood back into her mouth.
Ryder didn't hesitate. He ran right for her. His electrically charged chain circled over his head, lighting up the night with a purplish glow. Then it came down, discharging as it slapped against Shyressa's flesh and plunging the streets of Furrowsrich again into darkness.
The electrical energy played over the vampire's frame, but if it did her any harm, she didn't show it.
"Is that it?" taunted the vampire. She grabbed Ryder by the chains wrapped across his chest and pulled him close to her. "I told you this wasn't over."
Ryder ducked out of the metal links, sloughing off the chains and escaping the vampire's grip. His makeshift armor rattled to the ground.
"Come back here," shouted the Rune Mistress. She grabbed hold of Ryder's ducked head, one hand on each side of his face and lifted him onto his tiptoes. "Your blood will be the sweetest of all." Distending her mouth, she plunged her teeth into his exposed neck.
"Yie, yie, yie, yie, yie!" The ululating cry came from behind the ancient vampire, and the woman who had ridden out of Zerith Hold with Ryder sprang onto Shyressa's back.
She was smaller than the withered creature of the night, but she was fast, and her curved blade struck Shyressa hard, sliding lengthwise down her spine. The blow would have severed a normal woman in two. As it was, the vampire let out a terrific wail, pulling her teeth from Ryder's neck and letting go of his face. His body fell limply to the ground, and Shyressa's screeching turned into an ear-splitting howl.
The leaves on the trees shook, and the hairs on the back of Liam's neck stood on end. His skin felt cold, and the night seemed to grow darker.
Shyressa's body collapsed in on itself, and she leaned forward, putting her hands on the ground. Her gown changed into a thick coat of fur, and her face grew a long nose and two pointed ears.
The vampire had transformed herself into a dire wolf.
The creature growled, saliva dripping from its lips. Shyressa howled once again, a long spine-rattling sound that jangled the nerves. All around, the noise grew, filling the air. The Crimson Awl, every last one of them, paused amidst the fighting and howled along with their mistress.
When it had finished, the dire wolf turned toward Liam and leaped. He dropped to one knee, guarding his head with his arms. But it didn't matter. The creature was over him and gone, dashing off into the shadows, its spawn following right behind it.
Epilogue
It was a sad day.
"May he find rest in the afterlife..."
It was the day of Ryder's funeral.
"May we all find it in our hearts to forgive him for his mistakes..."
Liam stood with his head bowed, his arms around Samira. The rest of the village had come out. So too had a contingent from Zerith Hold. A unit of elite, guardsmen stood at attention while Baron Purdun himself presided over the ritual.
"But most of all, may we always remember Ryder of Duhlnarim fo
r his bravery, honor, and courage in Ahlarkham's greatest time of need."
The baron finished his speech, and the casket holding Ryder's body was lowered into the ground.
People formed a line and took turns putting shovels full of dirt on top of the casket, saying their final goodbyes to a man they all knew and loved. It was a ritual Liam had never really understood until now. He was glad to be able to do one last favor for his brother, glad to be able to say good-bye even if Ryder couldn't hear him.
Once he had taken his turn, Liam grabbed hold of Samira's arm and the two of them began walking back toward the village.
Someone put a hand on Liam's shoulder.
"Excuse me," said a young woman.
Liam turned around to look into the beautiful brown eyes of the woman who had accompanied Ryder, the same woman who had mortally wounded Shyressa only two nights before.
"Your name is Liam, right?" she asked.
Liam nodded. "Yes."
The young woman smiled sadly. "My name is Giselle." She offered Liam her hand.
"You're Ryder's friend " said Samira.
Giselle nodded. "Was." She looked as if she might cry.
Liam pulled a handkerchief out of his pants and handed it to Giselle, but she shook her head.
"No, thank you," she said. "I'll be fine." She lifted her chin, gritted her teeth, and cleared the tears from her eyes. She smiled again. "But there is something you could do for me."
Liam looked at Samira, then back at Giselle. "Any friend of Ryder's is a friend of mine," he said. "What can I help you with?"
"I was thinking that I might like to stay around here, in Duhlnarim," explained Giselle. "And I thought maybe you could put in a good word for me with the baron. Thought maybe I could join up with the elite guard."
"What about your friends?" asked Samira. "The ones who came with you to our home?"
Giselle smiled. "They have their path, and I have mine," she said. "Most of them have returned north, to the Giant's Plain. Some will no doubt find trouble in other parts."
Liam put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure the baron would be happy to have you," he said. "Come. I'll introduce you to him right now."
* * * *
In the dark of the night, a lone figure walked into the graveyard outside of Furrowsrich. It didn't have a torch or a lantern. It didn't need one. All it carried was a length of rope and a shovel as it walked through the rows of tombstones, looking at each of the names.
The figure stopped over a fresh grave. This one didn't have a tombstone. It hadn't been placed yet. All there was to mark the location was a plank of wood with the name "Ryder" burned into it.
The figure smiled and dropped the rope on the ground. Then, placing the head of the shovel into the fresh dirt, the figure began to dig.
The figure stopping digging when it reached the wood of the casket. When it found the edges, it got down into the grave and finished the job with its bare hands, carefully removing the dirt little by little, uncovering the casket as if it were a priceless artifact.
Grabbing the rope, the figure attached it to the handles on the edge of the casket and climbed out of the hole. Then, with the free end, it began to pull, slowly, carefully dragging the coffin to the surface.
At the top, the figure lifted the lid and peered inside.
"Rise, child," the figure said in a hollow, wispy voice. "Your master awaits you."
Inside the coffin, Ryder's body sat up straight. He lifted himself to his feet. "Where am I to meet her?"
"In the tombs outside Dajaan. Near the Deepwash," said the figure. "Do not keep Shyressa waiting, or you will find that there are far worse things in this world than death."
* * * *
In the far corner of the graveyard another man, this one invisible, turned and walked toward Zerith Hold. "Yes. Just as I thought," said Curtis to himself. "Yes, yes. This might be a problem."
About the Author
Jess Lebow is a best-selling author and game designer . He worked for five years as an editor in the Wizards of the Coast book publishing department, where he had experience working with the Magic, D&D, Forgotten Realms, Dragonlance, and Dark*Matter lines.
His short story, "Assassin's Shadow," was given a Reader's Choice Award by Wizards of the Coast readers and was included in The Best of the Realms, Volume I.