Inquisitor

by Mikhaylov, Dem

  - It’s not a problem – the older mage murmured – Actually I want to try one spell of a mental whip. We can get an interesting result. Let me come closer, Father.

  - Hey! – the sergeant shouted indignantly stepping forward to hide Fesces as he felt some danger – He is a soldier of the Imperial Army! Besides he was injured in a battle! I won’t let you do him any harm!

  - Sergeant – the mage spat scornfully – Know your place. We need the data and this soldier is going to provide us with them. Get out of my way!

  - Try to move me from this place – Whisker snarled angrily and pulled out the sword from the scabbard with a rasp. The other cuirassiers were standing on the same places but their armed crossbows turned towards the mages all of a sudden. Magic is magic but can you dodge from dozens of targeted crossbow iron bolts!

  - Belay, sergeant! Put your sword back into the scabbard – the priest didn’t look like a humble man of the clergy anymore, he resembled a forest viper ready for the fatal attack.

  The priest waited for the sergeant to obey his order, then turned to the mages and said firmly:

  - As for you… Come back to your horses and keep your mouths shut.

  - What? How do you dare to give us orders?! – the young she-mage started protesting but she sulked and allowed to take her away when she faced the warning in the eyes of the grey-bearded mage. Obviously she saw something important in them.

  The sergeant followed the mages with an angry glance and forgot to get surprised at the amazing obedience of the generally haughty mages. Then he bowed his head and said:

  - Thank you, Father.

  The priest just nodded with discontent and bended over Fesces again to touch his forehead by the tips of his fingers.

  The injured responded immediately – his whole body started and he came to consciousness.

  He was looking around with his eyes being blank until he finally focused on Whisker:

  - Sergeant. Luther was killed. These beasts tore him apart. Into small pieces. I saw it with my own eyes. First we thought that there were some peasants working in the field, kids were running around, we came closer without hiding and then it started.

  - What beasts? Can you describe them? – the priest asked him impatiently bending to Fesces’s face closely not to miss a single word.

  - There is nothing to describe, sir. They are the undead, but not usual… they are very fast – the soldier stopped as if he was witnessing the incident again and then continued in a firmer voice – I didn’t have time to look at them properly – it happened so quickly. I just remember giant teeth and claws on their fingers. I remember Luther’s head being cut off by one hit of a sharp-clawed paw and rolling down – despite that he was mounted! These beasts are very fast. I had time just to turn the horse and dig the spurs into its sides. Then I felt a hit on my side, swung the sword at random… the horse started neighing because of pain, they reached me, started grasping my legs… I thought I would end up like that…

  - Calm down, soldier – the priest said softly – You did everything that you could do. Don’t worry about it, sleep. You need some rest.

  As soon as the priest took his fingers away from Fesces’s forehead, the soldier fell into a troubled sleep.

  - How did you do it, man?.. – the sergeant murmured in amazement and realizing his mistake, corrected it at once – How did you do it, Father? I’m sorry I don’t know your name.

  - Church has its own means, sergeant. This soldier can’t go with us. Let’s leave him here with two cuirassiers as guards and tell them to wait for us coming back. Sorry, I need to discuss it with my brethren.

  - Yes, sir – the sergeant drew himself up, he didn’t think whether Church had a right to give orders to imperial soldiers or not, anymore – Consider it done.

  - Not a sir, sergeant, call me Father – the priest corrected Whisker – Church is a void in secular ranks and titles.

  - Father… I can admit I don’t understand what we should expect to see there. The gossips seem to be real facts, don’t they? Did the undead come to life and rise from their graves?

  - No, they didn’t. – the priest exclaimed, his eyes were sparkling furiously – The Creator is the only one who grants life! The undead rose, but they didn’t come to life, as it’s not life but a miserable shadow! It’s a ridiculous parody of a true life!

  - I’m sorry, Father. So they just rose. Fesces is a trained skillful imperial cuirassier; it’s not his first battle, he wouldn’t cause panic in vain. Does it mean that these beasts can run as fast as galloping horses?

  - You’re right, sergeant. Ordinary undead are slow and awkward. Only proper rituals can endue them with strength and high speed.

  - Do you mean they have been raised with evil intent? Have they been raised from graves with the help of black magic? Here?! On the territory of the Empire?

  - Yes, I do. I’m afraid that they were raised not only from graves. I’m afraid that there is no single living being left in Forest Metochion. But there is a puppet master who is sitting there and pulling wires to control the undead. There must be a necromancer settled in the village. Don’t waste time, we must arrive there until the sunset.

  The sergeant was so shocked by the news he heard that he didn’t remember giving orders. And he couldn’t remember for toffee how he had found himself in the saddle and commanded his soldiers to set off.

  There was a complete mess in his head. The gossips turned out to be eerily realistic. Whisker was subconsciously praying to ward off evil spirits, but his lips were hardly moving.

  The sergeant wasn’t a coward – he had taken part in many battles and numerous scars and other blemishes from injuries were direct evidence of that. But earlier he had always had a clear understanding who his enemy was. A sword via a sword, one life against another. But what should he do at that moment? How to kill an enemy that is already dead?

  The small clearing where Fesces and two other cuirassiers were left disappeared at the turn.

  Forest Metochion became closer and closer. The detachment could see it when they were passing a forest that was rather sparse as peasants had been cutting trees there for their everyday needs. There was a bee yard on the left where busy bees were hovering over beehives. A peaceful scene…

  In half an hour they came out to the edge of the forest. A narrow path was running along cultivated fields. Some roofs of village houses could be seen across from them as well as a logged church that was proudly overlooking the neighborhood.

  It was Forest Metochion.

  - Sergeant, I can see some people – one of the soldiers pointed out at the middle of the field away from the road.

  The sergeant narrowed his eyes to look in the pointed direction and could hardly see several human shapes doing something on the ground.

  - Sergeant, let me check – one of the cuirassiers couldn’t resist exclaiming.

  - Belay that – the sergeant was fed up with the first experience. He wasn’t going to lose his soldiers anymore – We’ll advance together. Break out the crossbows! Be on full alert!

  - Sergeant Whisker, if it is really what I think it is, neither crossbows nor swords will work – the priest put his palm against his forehead to look at the dark shapes in the distance – It’s impossible to kill these beasts by ordinary means. An arrow in the chest is just a trivial handicap for them.

  - What shall we do then? Should we attack them being disarmed?

  - Take axes – the priest replied briefly – My brethren and I will try to slow them down. As soon as I give the go-ahead, cut the beasts’ legs and cut off their arms. Don’t hit the body – as the axe will get stuck in it so deeply that you won’t be able to pull it out. You’d better cut off the neck and let the head roll down if you are lucky enough. As soon as you cut their knees and let them fall down on the ground, run away as fast as possible, the mages will go into action. Did you get it?

  - Yes, I did – Whisker nodded, then turned to the anxious cuirassiers and commanded –Crossbow
s slug on back. Dismount. Break out axes and shields. Don’t hit bodies! Hit at the beasts’ knees, cut off their arms and heads! Come on! Rush up, spastic ninnyhammers!

  The well-trained cuirassiers put the crossbows on their backs and grabbed long handles of battle axes almost simultaneously. They managed to come close to the beasts that seemed to ignore them. Soon the sergeant realized why the undead were so inattentive – they were eating. Gobbling up. They were crunching pieces of bleeding meat with a disgusting crackle of bones being broken and flesh being torn apart and swallowing them hungrily. It was almost impossible to see what they were eating because the beasts were fussing around but the sergeant managed to identify the horse’s leg picked almost bare on the blood-soaked ground. At that moment one of the beasts turned to the detachment holding a piece of torn armor in its hand and started licking eagerly the bloody stains from it.

  Mercy me! Just a dozen of steps away, the beasts huddled together to eat the remains of Luther and his horse. The sergeant felt sick. He averted his gaze. It is one thing to see blood and to get used to. But it is totally another to watch your fellow soldier being eaten up…

  - Sergeant… it’s Luther they are gobbling up. Mercy me! These beasts are eating Luther! – one of the soldiers forced himself to say, his voice was trembling.

  The ground under their feet vibrated softly, a rainbow veil flashed and disappeared in front of Whisker’s eyes. Somebody’s tender hand seemed to pat his shoulder and all his fear and uncertainty vanished away. A prayer was sung above the field. The priests went into action. Whisker caught a glimpse of white shapes lining up, raising their arms in a gesture to ward off evil spirits and small sparkles of bright light flickering on the tips of their fingers. But soon he didn’t have time to watch them, as the beasts felt the magic influence and responded immediately – in a blink of an eye the crooked beasts covered half of the gap between them and the detachment. They were shrieking while leaping to shorten the distance.

  There was only one step left to reach the line of the soldiers when the ground under their feet vibrated again and the beasts dashing to attack suddenly stopped and cried out in pain. The movements of the undead slowed down – it looked as if the air on their way condensed into the consistence of pine tar and the beasts ran into it and got stuck like flies in maple syrup.

  But the undead didn’t surrender. Step by step with a stubborn persistence they kept on moving forward the line of the pale terrified soldiers. The scene that the cuirassiers witnessed could definitely have made weaker people crazy.

  The undead. That word implied not only terror but a smell of decay as well. Swollen blue faces were covered with postmortem warts, teeth bared in starvation looked like predators’ fangs, paws complete with monstrous claws were tearing the air apart in a blind attempt to reach the prey, the ear-piercing shriek was so strong that it forced to drop the weapon and to press the hands against the ears not to hear it.

  - Sergeant! Stand to! We can’t restrain them for a long time! – the priest’s voice seemed to sound from the far-away distance, it brought the sergeant down to earth. He grabbed the axe and roared:

  - Cuirassiers! Cut the beasts! Go over the top!

  To set an example the sergeant was the first to dash to the nearest undead, dove under the paw hanging in the air and hit the beast’s knee with a powerful swing of the axe. The leg broke down, the undead raised its arms quickly and fell down heavily on the ground. Without wasting a mere second the sergeant ran up to the beast trying to stand up and cut off its arms at the shoulders by immediate axe hits. The axe blade cut the decayed flesh easily without any resistance. Thick black ooze flew out of the wounds. Disgusting smell of a decaying corpse hit the sergeant’s nose, made him cough and skip aside. The undead that turned into a stump was still moving trying to stand up, but it lacked the cut leg to balance and that’s why the beast kept on falling on the ground.

  Making sure that the undead couldn’t do any harm, the sergeant turned his head around looking for another target, but the cuirassiers didn’t need his help. They hadn’t been wasting time – all the beasts were convulsing and screaming in the mess of cut-off limbs. All the beasts but for one.

  The last of the undead was still struggling in the magic web woven by the priests and nobody was brave enough to come closer to it. Looking carefully at that undead, the sergeant gasped. It was a kid. A five-year-old girl. Surprisingly her face was well-preserved, it was almost untouched by the grave decay. The black eyes were looking eagerly at the soldiers from the clotted locks of her fair hair. Certainly it was a beast not a human kid but nobody dared to raise an axe at the creature that used to be real baby.

  - Mercy me – a whisper escaped the sergeant’s dried-up lip. He felt that he wouldn’t be able to force himself to do it either. Whisker looked back helplessly at the priest who realized what was happening and without stopping his pray shook his head to give a sign to retreat.

  - Cuirassiers! Backtrack! Everybody, step back! – the sergeant roared feeling real relief and followed the soldiers after making sure that all of them had run to the safe spot.

  The young she-mage made one step forward and murmuring a spell waved her hand gracefully in front of her. Fire broke out at the place where groaning undead were convulsing. A heat wave slapped the soldiers’ faces making everyone step back. The fierce flame was eagerly swallowing the bodies of the beasts that were still moving. A fiery wave overwhelmed the frozen dead girl and a plume of black smoke soared into the air.

  It was a funeral pyre. A ritual to purify the poor souls that had been imprisoned in the dead bodies against their will. The enchanted soldiers were looking at the purifying fire when a terrified girlish voice started asking for help from the middle of the heat.

  - Please, sir! It’s hurting me. Please, don’t punish me. Don’t burn me.

  - Oh dear – a fair-haired cuirassier sobbed and suddenly cried out – She is alive! Look, she’s alive!

  The sergeant was just in time – the cuirassier was about to dash into the flaming fire. Whisker knocked down the soldier by a powerful punch and shouted at the top of his voice:

  - Freeze! It’s a command! Don’t move! If anybody moves a bit, I’ll bash their brains out!

  The she-mage waited for a while, then let her hands drop, turned to the priest and nodded at him.

  The fierce fire started decreasing, its furious buzz was replaced by a satisfied crackle. Soon the flame disappeared. There was a blackening bald patch of the burnt soil and small heaps of ash on the place of the fire. The beasts that used to be humans disappeared without leaving any other signs of their existence. The sergeant relieved to see that the beast settled in the kid’s body vanished too. Otherwise he couldn’t be sure he would stay sane. The knocked-down cuirassier started moving. He stood up awkwardly touching his hurt jaw and trying to avoid Whisker’s eyes.

  - Don’t worry, sonny – the sergeant calmed him down – Don’t be ashamed.

  - Sergeant. But you heard it too, didn’t you? A girl was…

  - Yes, I did. But don’t think it was a kid’s voice.

  - You are right, sergeant! – the priest interfered into their conversation when he came up closer. He looked scornfully at the reeking burnt area. – It was just a shell hiding a fatally dangerous beast able to tear you apart into small pieces in a moment! Sergeant, ask everyone to gather. It is much more serious than I have expected.

  The priest looked carefully at the soldiers and his brethren gathered in front of him, cast a meaningless glance at the mages, nodded shortly at the sergeant and started speaking:

  - Brothers and sisters! – Whisker looked at the mages at the moment and noticed that a scornful grin appeared on the grey-bearded mage’s face – The gossips turned out to be truth. And this truth is so frightening that it can’t be believed – black magic is being practiced on the territory of the Empire. I don’t know how it started and how a necromancer invaded the land of the Empire. But I’m sure that we must set an end to it.
Let’s destroy the spider’s nest and get rid of impurity on our land! The necromancer is connected with his offsprings by magic bonds and he must have noticed that some of the beasts disappeared and there was an upsurge of the Creator’s power near his hide-out. So I’m sure he is preparing a welcome meeting. But it can’t stop us! None of these beasts must escape! Remember – God will never leave you nor forsake you! Sergeant, have you got any idea how to act?

  - Yes, sir… sorry. Yes, I have, Father! Is it true that the undead can’t enter water?

  - Partially – the undead are afraid of flowing water only – a river, a stream. But ditch water like in still ponds and in smelly bogs is not an obstacle for them. Why are you asking about it?

  - The village is built close to the river and if we get aligned like a chain and surround the village from three sides, the beasts won’t have a way to retreat.

  - No, it won’t work. The undead never retreat, sergeant. They have nothing to be afraid of here. The only one who can escape is the necromancer but we mustn’t let him go. Otherwise, he will find another godforsaken village in the middle of nowhere and start it from the very beginning. No way! Our main target is the necromancer. If we kill him, the beasts won’t escape. Mages, have you got anything to add?

  - Maybe, Father – the mage answered reluctantly – As far as I know a necromancer belongs to living beings, not the undead. Do you agree?

  - Yes, I do. A necromancer is a human. He is a person with a filthy rotten soul that deserves the purifying fire!

  - Great! I hope you have already understood that I have a gift called Mind Contact. I won’t be able to use it for a long time but I can set a mental dome over the village for a quarter or even a bit longer. While I am supporting this magic effect, none of the living beings will be able to escape the territory under the dome. The dome is impenetrable… unless the necromancer has a magic gift similar to mine. Or in the case of my death or complete eclipse of my powers. Then the dome will disperse.