by Joe Jackson
Who are these people? Leighandra wondered, amused.
Outside the alleyway, though, she presented another target for the nearby horde. Many of the undead turned in her direction and began to approach. There would be too many for her to fight effectively. Her duelist’s style was perfect for single combat, and fairly effective against two or three, but against a dozen? She knew she’d be overwhelmed and torn to bits.
The chronicler channeled a bit of the sorcery in her blood, heating her blades up for two purposes: One was simply to give the undead a light source to pursue. She might not be able to fight them effectively, but she could draw them off of her companions until they had things under control. The other purpose was to set some of the old bits of clothing that clung to the skeletons ablaze, which she began to do where opportunities presented themselves. Once the first went up in flames, its ambling nature spread the fire to other undead quickly.
Leighandra turned in panic as a clawed hand grabbed at her, and it gripped her with the near-limitless strength of the undead. She cried out in pain, but couldn’t wrench her hand free, barely able to dance out of the way as another tried to grab for her. The other was ablaze, and the heat of the fire threatened even more pain and suffering before she was torn apart. She yanked with all her might, but she couldn’t break the grip of the undead.
I am not going to become one of these things!
The grip of the hand loosened suddenly, and when she turned that way, Leighandra realized it’d been severed. Auremax followed up with a cleaving strike that laid the offending zombie low, and then turned to the blazing one still pursuing Leighandra. “Fall back toward Galadon! There are more coming; we need to retreat.”
“This has got to be several necromancers, no?” the chronicler asked, shaking the severed hand free of its grip on her arm.
“This is far more than a necromancer,” the luranar prince muttered with a shake of his head, and he shoved Leighandra lightly toward the other paladin. “Go quickly while I gather our other friends.”
She moved to Galadon’s side as ordered, keeping her wits about her as she saw the press of the undead still coming. Galadon’s arm was bleeding. “Are you all right?” she asked.
Galadon shrugged. “Been worse. Let’s keep the way to the gate clear. Max and I saw at least twenty more dig their way free while we were cutting down the initial wave. I don’t think this is going to stop any time soon.”
“Max?”
“It’s what he said his friends call him.”
Leighandra smiled at that, but it faded quickly. Her strings of lights over the cemetery revealed a terrifying sight. There were so many undead milling about now, she thought nearly the entire cemetery had to have risen. Why hadn’t the city been overrun yet if the necromancers could manage this sort of feat? Or was that on this night’s agenda? And if they could manage this here, across a distance, what might they be doing to all the other cities and nations?
The chronicler worked to not get overwhelmed. They had to escape, set the city guards to walling off the cemetery, and then warn the council and other ambassadors that things were getting worse. No matter their good intentions, this didn’t seem like something she and her new friends could take care of themselves.
Auremax came back with the others in his wake and gestured westward. “We need to go that way.”
“Away from the city?” Starlenia asked. “Do you know something we don’t?”
“I felt something… some power to the west just before the undead began to rise. I think this is far more than some necromancer, but we should look in that direction.”
“Did you sense anything?” Yiilu asked, turning to Galadon.
“Can’t say that I did, but it’s the only thing we have to go on.” He glanced back toward the city. “Looks like the guard have noticed all the trouble out here. Let’s see if we can get to the heart of it, and leave defending the city in their hands for the time being.”
“Lead the way,” Delkantar told Auremax.
The luranar paladin set off to the west, laying low the zombies in his path. For all the terror that surrounded the undead, the shambling horde didn’t faze him in the least. Again, it seemed to point to the necromancers being fairly weak, but at the same time, so many had risen that it also suggested great strength or numbers. They didn’t have much to go on, but the luranar’s nose or whatever sense had picked up the surge of power may have tipped them off to something nearly anyone else would have missed.
The group stayed close together as they advanced through the ranks of undead. What had started as dozens had now escalated into hundreds, and Leighandra’s hackles rose as they went into the army of zombies willingly. Every step they took in Auremax’s wake led them farther from the city and safety, and deeper into the heart of this evil. Terror mounted and threatened to overtake her, but she concentrated on the paladins before her and the elven druidess beside her, and put her faith in theirs.
They ran beyond the lights Leighandra had conjured, but Auremax kept them moving forward, his steps sure and straight. “Stay close to me,” he whispered over his shoulder. “There is something nearby.”
The humans stayed close out of necessity, their steps shorter and more tentative though they did their best to keep up with him. The army of the dead thinned out as the group continued to move westward, eventually approaching a crumbled section of the outer cemetery wall. There was dim firelight showing from the far side, and Auremax continued to lead them that way. A few of the shambling dead tried to pursue them, but were cut down easily by the long blades of the knights before they could get close to anyone. Most of the undead forgot about the group once they were out of the immediate area; pursuit ceased once they’d reached the wall.
With some light to see by, Starlenia disappeared into the shadows again. Delkantar split off to the right, flanking the gap in the crumbling wall from where Auremax and Galadon were approaching. Yiilu and Vo’rii followed the woodsman, leaving Leighandra to go with the paladins. When she approached the gap, she saw what the others were considering.
There was a circle of men gathered around a campfire. One of them was chanting in a low voice, the others standing around silently. Hooded cloaks blocked out most of the men’s features, but the one who was chanting had his hood down, his cloak open so one arm could be outstretched toward the flames, the other clutching something about his neck. He was human, bald with darker skin as though he came from the Khalarin Desert. And there was a darkness in his eyes that was more than just a trick of the firelight.
Auremax looked across to Delkantar and made a gesture suggesting they just strike these men down, and then try to take prisoners if any survived. Before any of them could move, however, Starlenia dashed from the shadows and cut down one of the cloaked figures in seconds. It seemed she couldn’t get to the chanting man without being discovered, so she’d done what she could. And then she did the next best thing she could: She ran, drawing their attention along with her, and leaving their backs exposed to the rest of the companions.
Well done, my friend! Leighandra approved.
The luranar paladin dashed through the gap and intercepted one of the cloaked men before he could give chase after Starlenia. He pulled up short when he came face to face with the man. A clawed hand came up and swiped at the luranar’s face, leaving bloody gashes across his snout, and Auremax stumbled back. When it struck, the creature’s hood slipped off, and Leighandra saw it was no man at all – at least, not anymore.
These were fast as opposed to the zombies they’d left behind in the cemetery. Though desiccated and clearly undead, they moved with preternatural speed and dexterity, and between that and their appearance, they took the advantage over Auremax. He recovered quickly after being wounded, shaking his head and then showing his fangs with a growl, and Leighandra found even her knees went a little weak at the display.
Galadon stepped up beside Auremax to aid and bolster the luranar paladin. They worked in tandem to take back the ad
vantage. Things would’ve gone better if Max had simply cut the man down from the shadows, but Leighandra knew that was not the way of a paladin. Starlenia, on the other hand, had no such reservations.
Delkantar ducked around the wall to intercept another of the withered corpses, and Vo’rii moved in tandem with him. Soon, a full-on melee ensued, five of the undead facing the main group while the sixth gave chase to Starlenia. The necromancer, who didn’t seem to be undead, ceased his chanting, and turned his attention to the attackers. Leighandra recognized his use of the arcane as he began to call upon a spell, and she tried to weave through the ranks of her allies and the undead to get to him first.
It was of no use, but his attempt to channel was interrupted as the campfire billowed and then changed to a green hue. A tendril of the green flame arose and lashed out at him, staggering him back under its heat, but he got his wits about him and tried to bend it to his own will. The necromancer and Yiilu battled for control of the flames, but then one of the undead turned and made for the druid.
Yiilu had allies as well, though. The necromancer’s concentration was broken when Vo’rii hamstrung him, and then he cried out when Starlenia brutally stabbed him in the side as she dashed past, the other undead still on her tail. She spun through a couple more and ran between Auremax and Galadon, who stopped her pursuer. Whatever the Okonashai woman lacked in diplomatic skills, she more than made up for in battlefield tactics and bravery.
I should like to meet these hill people some day, Leighandra thought.
Delkantar claimed fingers and then a hand from the husk he fought, though its speed had allowed it to get close to him and score some hits of its own. Thankfully, the withered husks weren’t armed; with their speed, having the advantage of weapons’ reach would have made this a far deadlier dance. Still, cutting off pieces was hardly slowing the undead down, and Delkantar no longer had the assistance of Vo’rii. If that troubled him at all, it didn’t show yet.
Leighandra took advantage of a husk’s focus on Galadon, and thrust her saber deep into its side. There was no squelch, more like a sawing feeling and sound, as though she had stabbed a deep pile of paper or parched wood. Fortunately, she didn’t spoil her blade on ribs, and it came back out with little resistance, but she was surprised as she was slapped in the face with what had to have been a desiccated tail.
“By the gods, what are these things?” Leighandra muttered, rubbing the spot where she’d been struck. She got her saber before her and kept the husk at bay, but if a full-on stab through the side hadn’t killed or even disabled it, she wasn’t sure what she could do other than keep it from bothering her allies. She assumed a fencing pose and kept the husk at a distance regardless of whether her strikes did anything to disable it.
Auremax stabbed one under the ribs, and though the strike didn’t truly wound it, his blade held the undead in place long enough for Galadon to cleave it in two with his greatsword. At last, one of the husks was down, and Leighandra redoubled her efforts as hope flooded into her. Starlenia appeared behind her opponent, and the two women began to systematically cut it down, piece by piece, though it was a slow process. Despite its speed, the thing was feral, reacting each time to being struck, constantly changing targets and never breaking the women’s defenses. After Leighandra drew its attention again, Starlenia at last found the mark with her short blade, severing its spine high up. That dropped it into a heap.
Vo’rii was dragging the necromancer by an ankle, and by the time he fought off the wolf, it was too late: Yiilu stood over him with her scimitar to his throat. Leighandra moved to assist Delkantar, and Starlenia broke off from her to lend aid to the paladins. On a hunch, Leighandra heated up her blades with her sorcerous power again. A few choice stabs set one of the husks up in flames easily, and she then held it at bay, letting the flames do her work. That earned raised brows from Delkantar, but only for a moment before he slipped in and helped her finish cutting down the ruined form of the undead.
Auremax laid another husk low, and Galadon took a few stinging hits to slam another with his armored girth, sending it into the campfire. The tide was turned, and the others were cut down or set ablaze, reducing them to lifeless, withered flesh or dust once again. Leighandra looked to each of her companions; nearly all of them were wounded to some degree. Nothing looked serious, but when Auremax licked the wounds on the side of his snout and then spat out the tainted blood, concern flooded into her. They’d need to thoroughly clean all of the wounds when they were safely back in the city; there was no telling what disease or other filth undead claws might carry.
The necromancer, surrounded now by the companions, merely smiled and took hold of the pendant about his neck: a silver skull on a chain. Galadon kicked the man down flat to his back, stopping whatever he was doing, but he continued to smile.
“You are too late. Death approaches,” he said, no humor in his voice despite the smirk.
“The zombies are headed this way,” Starlenia said. “If you want answers before we cut this fool’s throat, better get them quick.”
Auremax looked farther westward. “It… it is not even him,” he whispered. “Can the rest of you feel that?”
“Feel what, my friend?” Galadon asked, putting a hand to the luranar’s shoulder.
“Power. Some great, malevolent power, somewhere to the west of us. Whatever it is, it is massive, and evil, and I believe the true source of this atrocity. This man, whoever he is… he is nothing more than a pawn.”
The necromancer laughed, but stopped short when Starlenia slapped him on the forehead with the flat of her blade. “I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you,” she spat.
“Do you not understand? Kill me and I will become a different kind of weapon for the master. The more you kill, the more weapons you give us! This is a war you cannot win.”
“Not if we commit you to the pyre,” Auremax said. “Who is your master? And where are they located?”
“I will tell you nothing.”
Starlenia knelt down beside him and slowly drew her blade across his tunic, leaving a trail of ichor. “You sure about that?” she asked him. “You want me to get answers out of him?”
“No. Not like that,” the luranar paladin said. “We will take him back to the city, and let him face the judgment of the people there. If they choose to get answers in such a manner, then let it be upon them.”
Starlenia shrugged in response. “We still have a whole mess of zombies headed our way. We’d best get moving soon.”
The necromancer rose into the air then, his arms out to the sides as if crucified. At first, he looked terrified and in agony, but then a look of elation crossed his face. Weapons were brought to bear in the face of the unexpected assault, but he made no move to strike or cast a spell that Leighandra could tell. Then his eyes went black, his lips peeled back in an unnatural grin, and the voice that came forth was not his own.
“How very foolish of you to make yourselves known to me, interlopers.”
“Who are you?” Auremax demanded, stepping forward.
“I am the Mistress of Blood, your Crimson Queen, and death has now laid its claim upon you all,” came the response.
The necromancer’s belly split open from crotch to chin, then, his innards exploding upon the unsuspecting companions. Leighandra luckily got only the barest of sprays on her, but Yiilu and Auremax took the brunt of it. The luranar’s fur was completely matted in seconds, and he turned to spit some of it out of his mouth. Yiilu, by comparison, stood mortified, frozen in place in astonishment by how disgustingly she’d just been assaulted.
The body dropped to the ground with a wet splat, but even before it had time to settle, it began to rise again. “Oh, I don’t think so,” Starlenia said, lifting the head and severing the spine at the base of the skull, then giving a stab through the ear as well for good measure. That seemed to keep it from rising again, and she immediately set to work searching the corpse for clues, only taking enough time to wipe its blood casually fro
m her cheek with a sleeve.
Vo’rii began licking the druidess to wash her, but Yiilu gently prodded her companion away. “No, my friend.”
“This is going to take days to wash out,” Auremax groaned, stripping one of the husks of its cloak to wipe off what he could. “Are the zombies still heading this way?”
“No sign of them,” Delkantar called from near the gap in the wall. “If they yet remain in there, they’re either at the city side, or wandering aimlessly without anyone to guide them.”
“We should lend what aid we can if the former proves true.”
Galadon nodded but glanced at his companions. “How badly wounded is everyone? Anything serious?”
“Just flesh wounds, I believe,” Leighandra said.
“I have some berry salves I can apply once we have washed this filth from us,” Yiilu offered. “But it will be of little use if we do not cleanse the wounds first.”
The chronicler moved to one of the husks. Its features were distorted, desiccated and nearly unrecognizable even as male or female. But the talk of wounds reminded her that she’d been struck by a tail, and she wanted a closer look. A casual inspection revealed that they hadn’t been human when alive, yet judging by the shape of the heads, they weren’t rir or czarikk either.
“What were these?” she muttered.
“Broke,” Starlenia huffed. She shrugged when fixed with everyone’s attention. “No sense leaving money on the dead. I got the silver chain, coins, and a missive of some kind off the necromancer, but it’s in a language I can’t read. We can take a closer look when we’re back in the city.”
“Were they not human?” Galadon asked, squatting down beside Leighandra. “Oh, I see they weren’t. Good question; what were these, then?”
“Long dead and dangerous,” Yiilu said with a grimace. “This defilement only continues to become more distasteful with every discovery we make.”