Two Necromancers, a Dragon, and a Vampire (The Unconventional Heroes Series Book 3)

by L. G. Estrella

“Why doesn’t Everton take care of the ogres itself?” Katie asked.

  They were very close to the border now. Rather than walk, which would have taken ages, they were all on horseback. As was usually the case when they went on a mission, Timmy and Katie had brought a cadre of zombie soldiers, along with a trio of zombie wyverns. It was common sense. There could be bandits although they hadn’t run into any yet, and there was always something odd happening near the border. He had even gotten Gerald to store a few of his more exotic and deadly zombies with his magic. The bureaucrat had been squeamish from the moment he’d laid eyes on them, but he’d also been immensely relieved at the thought they would be on his side. If push came to shove, Gerald could be surprisingly practical. An ogre was scary, but a zombie bear-salamander-cobra was scarier.

  “James, that jerk, mentioned it when we spoke to him and Vicky about Spot.” Timmy reached out to his zombie wyverns. They hadn’t spotted anything unusual so far. However, he’d been careful to take note of the troops who had gathered in the fortifications along the border. The Council must have been expecting trouble in the near future because there were far more troops there than normal. He’d have to ask Vicky about it. If they were going to start a war, he’d like to know in advance. “The village we’re supposed to help isn’t in Everton. It’s on the other side of the border.”

  Katie lifted Rembrandt up onto her shoulder. “So it belongs to one of the clans?”

  “Yes.” Timmy bit back a laugh as Rembrandt tossed a glare at Spot. Clearly, he was still less than happy with the dragon. However, Spot simply smiled back and wagged his short, stumpy tail. “Which is why we’re going in and not Everton’s army or mages. They can pretend we did it ourselves without worrying about escalating the situation.”

  The clan who they were going to help occupied a chaotic region along part of Everton’s southwest border that was commonly referred to as the clan zone. Once upon a time, the various clans who had occupied the clan zone – and there were dozens of them – had all been part of a large, powerful, and prosperous kingdom. Not long after Everton had become its own country by winning a war of independence against the Eternal Empire, that kingdom had collapsed after the assassination of its king and his entire family. Frankly, Timmy had always thought that the timing was far too convenient. He wouldn’t have put it past the Eternal Empire to try to destabilise the area around Everton after failing to beat them on the field of battle. It was exactly the sort of thing that an emperor who believed that it was his family’s sacred destiny to rule the entire world would do.

  The various clans had, after a pause of several hundred years, promptly revived all of their old grudges and had done their best to wipe each other out in as bloody a way as possible. Cue in centuries of bloodshed, horror, and general unpleasantness – quite a lot of which had been right on Everton’s doorstep. Things had gotten so bad over the past decade that Timmy had considered sourcing his corpses directly from the clan zone. A quick trial had shown that was not a good idea. The sheer amount of visceral hatred, rage, and malevolence that clung to the corpses with all the stubbornness of a barnacle to the side of a ship had made reanimating those corpses far more trouble than they were worth.

  Timmy had instead continued to acquire his corpses the usual way – from corpse dealers like Mike who paid people for the corpses of people who had died of fairly natural causes or from things like plague that could easily be scoured from corpses and didn’t bother necromancers. Sure, Mike probably got some of his corpses from the clan zone and other areas of conflict, but he carted those corpses around long enough to loosen the hold any restless souls might have on them.

  Different nations had tried to take over the clans in the years since the collapse of the old kingdom only to be brutally rebuffed as the clans ceased their bickering and banded together long enough to slaughter the invaders before promptly returning to their usual murderous squabbling. Everton had not appreciated the situation at all. Having a collection of belligerent clans on their doorstep that favoured mass murder as a solution to all of their problems was far from ideal. However, the thought of becoming yet another invasion statistic had stayed the Council’s hand thus far. Instead, the Council, in a moment of wisdom and sanity, had adopted a more sensible approach. Agreements had been brokered with the clans closest to Everton. In exchange for not letting their problems spill over the border, Everton would offer the occasional helping hand in both military and economic terms. Naturally, these agreements were both secret and informal. An open, formal alliance would only have forced the other clans to forge alliances of their own against the clans that Everton was friendly with, which in turn would only have escalated the situation even more.

  As a result, Everton’s help came in the form of supplies and other support, much of it provided in secret. Food was given when war, drought, or other problems made harvests poor, and military aid was smuggled in when battles went awry. In those situations, people like Timmy were called upon to intervene directly. A necromancer – or mercenary – coming to the aid of one of the clans would not draw a lot of attention since necromancers were generally viewed as working for whoever had the gold to pay them. The Council would certainly deny being the ones responsible for sending him if asked.

  However, the current gathering of troops along the border made Timmy wonder how much he didn’t know. He had heard, here and there, that the Eternal Empire – which wasn’t eternal so much as two thousand or so years old – was flexing its military muscles again. Did the Council suspect that the Eternal Empire had formed alliances with some of the clans? It wouldn’t be impossible, and Everton’s forces crossing the border was exactly the sort of flimsy excuse the Eternal Empire could use to kick off the next phase in its war against Everton. It was a war that had been going on in some form or another for centuries, and it was also a war that Everton wasn’t quite ready to fight yet. Then again, the odds of the Eternal Empire simply striking once it had amassed enough military power rather than waiting for an appropriate excuse to resume open hostilities were almost as good. They were jerks that way.

  “The village we’ll be helping belongs to the Taliesin clan,” Timmy said. “What can you tell me about them?”

  Katie’s brows furrowed. She wasn’t as familiar with the clans as she would have liked. Then again, she was only ten years old. She wasn’t anywhere near as well travelled as her master although that had begun to change now that they were doing work for the Council and he had begun to trust more in her abilities. It would be a while yet before he’d let her go off on a mission on her own, but he’d brought her along on all the missions they’d done so far.

  “They’re one of the mid-sized clans. They’d be larger, but they have a lot of enemies, so they’re constantly under attack. They specialise in scholarship, commerce, and the arts, so they rely on mercenaries and fortifications more than most clans.” She paused and searched for a polite way to phrase what she said next. “They are… less than great at open warfare.”

  “Exactly.” Timmy would have ruffled her hair, but she was far enough away that doing so would have involved falling off his horse. Never mind. He’d get her later when she least expected it. “The Taliesin clan are basically garbage at fighting out in the open. Give them a fortress to defend, and it’s a different story. They’re great at building fortifications, and they’re better at defending them than anyone else. It’s how they’ve survived this long. Unfortunately, the village we’ll be helping is one of the newer ones, so it hasn’t been fully fortified yet. I’m betting the ogres were either sent there or paid to go there to draw forces from one of the nearby cities out into the open where they can be attacked more easily.”

  “Well, they better pay us for saving them,” Avraniel muttered. Spot was flying over them, circling lazily and then diving whenever he saw anything interesting or tasty. Some things, like rabbits, happened to be both. “I mean they are supposed to be rich, aren’t they?”

  “I wonder if the village has a
good library.” Gerald had brought along several books about the clan. “The library in their capital is said to be one of the finest in the world.” He stared off into the distance with a hopeful expression. “I would love to go there one day. They also make the most wonderful paper. It’s better than anything we have.”

  “Trust a bureaucrat to be interested in paper.” Avraniel clenched one fist. “Screw paper! I’m talking about jewels, gold, and money. You want paper? You can buy plenty of paper if you’ve got a pile of gold.”

  Old Man chuckled at the maniacal smile on Avraniel’s face. The elf was no doubt imagining all the things she could buy with even more gold. “I’m more interested in their plants. I know it’s only a village, but there is supposed to be a species of bonsai that can only be found in this area. I wonder if it’s because of the soil or the climate. If I’m lucky, perhaps I’ll be able to purchase one.”

  “I’m sure we’ll all get something out of this.” Timmy looked pointedly at Avraniel. “We’re here to get ogre corpses and to save the villagers and their village. I repeat: we are here to save the villagers and their village.”

  “I heard you the first time, idiot. And why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Do you remember what happened to the town with the giant golem?” Timmy asked.

  “Hey! Those golems did most of the damage. Any property damage I caused was absolutely necessary. Absolutely. Necessary.”

  “Actually…” Gerald began before a furious glare cut him off. “Never mind.”

  “I have yet to hear the full story about those golems.” Old Man checked to see that his bonsai tree was still where it should be. It was riding alongside him in a specially made cup attached to his saddle. “It sounds very interesting, and it goes to show how life need never be boring if you’re around the right people.”

  Timmy was about to laugh when one of his zombie wyverns fought to get his attention. It wasn’t easy to create zombies that could tell when they saw something important, but he had always believed in the importance of craftsmanship. He’d earned the title of Grand Necromancer for a reason, and the effort to create more intelligent zombies was something he enjoyed. It also tended to pay off – like now. He let his mind drift deeper into the connection he had with the zombie wyvern and frowned.

  “We need to get a move on,” Timmy said. “The ogres are back, and they’ve broken through the village’s defences. I’d say they’re about twenty minutes from eating everyone.”

  “How far are we from the village?” Gerald asked.

  “It’s about another three or four hours on horseback at the pace we’re going since the terrain gets a bit rough. On a wyvern’s back, we’re talking around ten minutes, which means we’re going for a ride.” Timmy stood up in his saddle and urged the others to do the same as one of the zombie wyverns swooped down. “Jump on!”

  Timmy made the jump onto the wyvern easily enough, as did Avraniel, Katie and Old Man. The rats had no problems either. They were ninjas, after all. Gerald, however, was a different story.

  “Wait for me!” Gerald screamed as he waved his arms around. “Wait for me!”

  Timmy sighed. The bureaucrat hadn’t been able to bring himself to jump. Oh well. He ordered the second zombie wyvern to swoop down to let some of the zombie soldiers jump onto its back while the others stayed behind to mind the horses. Rather than wait for Gerald to jump, the zombie wyvern simply scooped him off his horse with its claws.

  “AHHHHH!”

  Timmy had only been able to fit half of the zombie soldiers onto the second zombie wyvern, but half should be more than enough. If things did get out of hand, they could always get Gerald to pull out some of the more exotic zombies that he’d stored away with his magic.

  “Calm down, Gerald,” Timmy shouted as the zombie wyvern flicked Gerald up onto its back where a few of his zombies swiftly moved to help him. “You’ll be fine.”

  The zombie wyverns made excellent time since unlike regular wyverns they never got tired, and he could even enhance their physical abilities with his magic if he needed to. It took them a little over eight minutes to reach the village after he decided to push it. If they were even a minute late, most of the villagers would already be dead.

  As the zombie wyverns circled over the village, Timmy had a chance to get a better look at it. The village was large enough to house several hundred people, which meant that it was closer to a town than a village. There had been a stout wooden stockade around it, but the ogres had smashed through it in at least half a dozen different places. Rather than killing everyone immediately, the ogres had instead herded the villagers into the village square where they had a large fire going. If he knew ogres – and he did – they were most likely debating about how best to cook their human captives. Culinary technique was something ogres argued about frequently, and although they were exceedingly stupid, ogres had been known to make excellent cooks. In fact some of them would even have been able to make a living as chefs if they could only leave behind the whole eating people thing. From the looks of it, there were a few dozen ogres, which was a much larger group than he’d expected. Ogres tended to not like each other very much. Oh well, it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle.

  “All right,” Timmy shouted. “This is where we get off. Jump!”

  Landing safely from a great height was not something Timmy particularly enjoyed, but it was something he’d practiced since it was something he seemed to end up doing on a disturbingly regular basis. A brief geyser of mud and dirt was enough to slow his fall to a manageable speed. Katie, of course, had her shadows to help her. She formed some wings and glided down to land beside him after making a brief detour to grab Gerald who had yet to stop screaming. The bureaucrat’s lung capacity was truly phenomenal. Timmy wasn’t sure if he could have screamed for even half that long.

  As for Avraniel, the elf was a monster from a purely physical perspective. She simply hit the ground hard enough to crack it and then stood up again, none the worse for wear while Spot angled down to land next to her. Old Man, never one to do anything too flashy, simply vanished and then reappeared on the ground. As for the rats, they either hitched a ride on one of the others or used parachutes to slow their descent. The zombie soldiers were easily taken care of with another geyser of mud and dirt.

  Satisfied that everyone else had managed to make it down safely, Timmy slung his shovel over his shoulder and stepped forward to put himself between the terrified villagers and the ogres.

  “Hi.” Timmy smiled and drove his shovel into the cobblestones with a clang. “We need to talk.”

  Chapter Five

  Katie landed beside her master and then took a big step to the right as the geyser of mud and dirt subsided. Her master’s method of landing wasn’t exactly stylish – not that a lot of what he did was – but it was effective, which was all that mattered. It was certainly better than going splat. At the same time, she used her shadows to pry Gerald off her. The bureaucrat had finally stopped screaming. Her master should have warned him since it wasn’t like he had a good way of getting down on his own. Then again, Gerald had a lot of things stored away with his magic. He probably had a parachute or something that he could use. If he didn’t, then she would definitely suggest that he add one. It hadn’t been pleasant when he’d latched onto her like she was an acorn and he was a giant, rabid squirrel, but they were friends, and friends didn’t let each other fall to their deaths after jumping off a zombie wyvern.

  “Are you all right?” Katie whispered to Gerald as her master opened a conversation with the ogres in typically pedestrian fashion. She’d been hoping he would say something suitably impressive and menacing for a Grand Necromancer. Alas, he had decided to adopt an almost friendly tone.

  Gerald nodded slowly and breathed in an out of a paper bag. Hopefully, he wouldn’t end up inhaling it like the last time although this did make her wonder if it was the same paper bag as before. She doubted it. He probably had dozens stored away. “Thank y
ou for getting me down.”

  “It’s okay. I thought you could use the help.” Rembrandt hopped onto her shoulder and gave her a few quiet squeaks. He and the other rats wanted to move through the village to make sure no one was being eaten while they were in the village square. It was a good idea, and she gave him a nod of approval. A moment later, he and some of the other rats faded from view and began to move through the rest of the village. “I have a feeling that this is going to involve a lot of violence, so I think you’re better off standing behind us. From what I’ve read, ogres prefer to negotiate by killing and eating negotiators.”

  “Ah. Right.” Gerald patted himself down to make sure he was okay. The rats that had hitched a ride in his various pockets climbed out of his clothing and settled onto his shoulders and the ground around him. While Rembrandt and the other rats checked the village, they would stay back in case Katie, Gerald, or any of the others needed help. They’d been given orders by Timmy to keep an eye on Gerald, and Rembrandt would stab the lot of them if something happened to Katie. Gerald bent down and rubbed the rats on the back. “Nice to see you.”

  The rats squeaked their reply as the zombie soldiers that had come along formed a loose cordon between the villagers and the ogres.

  Gerald inclined his head. “I’ll do my best to stay out of trouble, and I know that you’ll do your best to protect me. Thanks.”

  Katie’s attention shifted back to her master.

  “I know you guys are hungry, but I’m afraid that we can’t let you eat these villagers.” Katie almost palmed her face. What was her master doing? Behind her, she noticed Old Man taking a quick look at the villagers. Oh. He was stalling to give Old Man time to see if any of the villagers needed healing. Clever. “You see, these villagers happen to be friends of some friends of mine, which means that they’re not on the menu – not even if it’s your menu.”

  “Who are you?” one of the villagers shouted. “We don’t associate with your kind, necromancer! Return to the depths of the demon world from whence you came!”