At the extreme edges of the fog there appeared to be a hazy figure trundling toward them. Behind it appeared two more. Before the companions could react, more figures appeared all around them.
The one Milena had originally spotted half stumbled and half ran up to them. It reached out a gnarled hand. Milena’s horse shied and spun away, and the gnarled hand brushed against her exposed leg.
Milena gave a sharp cry and instinctively batted the hand away. “It’s an undead!” she gasped. “It’s a zombie!”
Sherman was already there, menacing with his sword. The zombie turned its undead gaze on him and stepped forward, not intimidated in the least. It never had a chance as Sherman’s sword came down and sliced off its arm.
Unfazed, the zombie simply picked up its arm and somehow managed to reattach it. By now the companions were surrounded on all sides.
“Get in a circle!” shouted Harran.
No sooner had he spoken when there was a bright flash all around them. Several of the closest zombies fell in a ragged heap. Harran looked at Kazin, but judging by his surprised expression, it wasn’t his magic.
There was a soft chant and another loud explosion. This time the entire party knew who was behind the magic. “There are too many of them,” panted Milena. Her face was flushed. “We should break through them to safety.” Her magic was still strong and her heart pounded, but she was not about to waste her strength protecting a piece of ground in the middle of nowhere.
“Which way?” asked Harran. He swiped at a nearby zombie with his axe. It backed off temporarily.
“I don’t—,” began Sherman.
Suddenly Milena’s horse tore free of its owner’s control and squealed in fright. It turned and bolted between the outstretched hands of two zombies and raced away into the fog. Sherman immediately spurred his horse after her, chopping savagely at the zombies she had just passed.
“Stay together!” shouted Kazin, following the warrior. The others obeyed, sending their horses charging after.
It was a long, wild flight through the haziness. Sherman and Milena soon outdistanced the others.
Suddenly Milena’s horse tripped over an obstruction and she went down in a tangle of white robes. She screamed as Sherman’s horse appeared out of the gloom and thundered toward where she lay. The scream probably saved her life. At the last possible instant Sherman kicked his horse’s flanks and it sprang clear over the cleric. Slowing and turning his horse in the direction of the fallen cleric, Sherman quickly dismounted and ran over to her.
“Are you all right?” he called anxiously.
“Milena struggled to her feet. “I think so. A few bruises is all.”
Then the remainder of the party thundered toward them and reined in.
“Are you O.K.?” asked Kazin breathlessly.
Milena nodded.
“What happened back there?” asked Harran. “I saw what Sherman did but the thing simply reached down and—,” he shook his head in bewilderment.
“I’d like to know myself,” said Sherman, looking pointedly at the cleric.
“Those were zombies,” said Milena, perplexed. “Surely you have encountered them before?”
Sherman shook his head.
“I have,” said the dwarf, “in a manner of speaking, that is.” He looked at Zylor.
The minotaur nodded. “The zombie dwarves in the mountains under the control of the lizardmage.”
“But they were alive,” added the dwarf. “Those things back there were—you know—dead.”
“Then you haven’t fought them before,” nodded Milena.
“All I know of them,” said Kazin, “I learned at the Tower of Sorcery. They can only be killed if their heads are chopped off or if they get dispelled. Black mages can’t do dispel magic so we can only defeat them if we sever their heads with lightning or ice bolts. The only problem is that we can only kill one at a time using this method. To kill many at once in this manner takes an awful lot of magical energy. Dispel magic is more lethal to them. That’s what you cast back there, Milena, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Milena. “But such magic is trying if cast over and over in a short period of time.”
“Where did they come from?” asked Harran. “Are they controlled by a magic wielder like the dwarves Zylor and I encountered before?”
“I don’t know what you encountered before,” said Milena, “but no, there’s no magic wielder involved here. I hate to say it, but I think we’ve gone off course and entered the Plains of Grief.”
“What?” asked Sherman. “We couldn’t be that far off course, could we?”
Milena nodded. “We are.”
“She’s right,” said Kazin from nearby. He had dismounted and was investigating an obstruction not far away. “This is the remains of an old grave stone.”
“That’s what my horse must have tripped over,” said Milena, going over to take a look for herself.
“It’s my fault, as usual,” raged Sherman. “I keep getting everyone into trouble. If I hadn’t gotten us lost—.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Sherman,” said Kazin. “The trail was vague at best. Even an expert guide would have gotten lost under similar conditions.”
“We shouldn’t tarry here too long,” interrupted the dwarf. “Those things weren’t THAT far behind.”
“My horse is lost,” said Milena, looking around sadly.
“It’s harder ground here,” said Sherman. “We’ll never find your horse without tracks. You can ride with me.”
“Nay,” said the minotaur, dismounting Harran’s great warhorse. “She can ride my mount. If those creatures return, I will fare better on foot.”
“What if we have to escape like last time?” asked Sherman.
“Escape to where?” retorted the minotaur. “Besides, the horse is already fatigued. It will not run far with me astride.”
They could all see that the horse was lathered in sweat from the previous run. Zylor was just too much weight, even for such a large warhorse.
Milena smiled and took the reins from the minotaur’s hand. “I accept your offer, Zylor. This horse will do just fine.” She swung astride. “It certainly won’t spook like my other horse did.” The great horse raised its head in surprise and looked back. It shook its head and neighed. It seemed pleased with this new, lighter load.
“But what will you ride, Zylor?” asked the warrior.
The minotaur grinned. “I can run almost as well as any horse. After all, we’re distant relatives.”
Chapter 32
The companions started off after a short debate on which direction to go. It was finally agreed that the direction they had been traveling when they were chasing Milena’s horse was a reasonable course to follow, since going back the way they had come was bound to lead them back to the zombies.
They travelled at a much slower pace for a few hours, giving their mounts a chance to recuperate from their previous flight. Suddenly Sherman raised a hand and called a halt. He dismounted and bent to examine the ground.
“What is it?” asked Kazin.
“Tracks,” said the big warrior. “Several horses.” There was a pause. “Wait a minute!” Sherman swore. “These are our tracks!”
“What!?” said Harran, jumping down to join the warrior. “Let me see.” He examined the tracks and then groaned. “Sherman’s right. We’ve come full circle!”
Sounds of dismay echoed in the eerie foggy silence as the realization of what had happened dawned upon them.
“Great!” growled Sherman angrily. “We’ve wasted an entire day for nothing! I wish the sun would come out so we could find our way!”
“What’s that?” asked Zylor, pointing off to the party’s right.
Far off in the murk stood a hazy outline of a square-shaped o
bject.
Sherman rose and scratched his head. “Funny we never noticed it when we passed by here earlier. Let’s go and see what it is. Maybe it’ll give us an idea of where we are.”
The companions dismounted and walked toward the object cautiously. They were still another fifty yards away from it when Harran gave a warning shout. Behind them, at the place where they had dismounted, some vague figures shambled forward.
“Great,” muttered Sherman. “More zombies.” He drew his sword.
“This time we will stay and fight,” said Zylor with a guttural growl. He drew his axe.
“Very well,” said Harran stepping between the two. He deftly brandished his axe. “Let’s see how they fare against the ice axe!”
Milena moved into position behind the warriors. Kazin did the same, standing near the horses to calm them.
More zombies appeared to either side of them but the companions waited silently. There was a soft chant and Milena blasted the enemies to her left. Kazin fired ice bolts into the necks of his attackers on the right. The heaviest forces came from the front and everyone had their hands full.
Sherman was blocking the blows of his attackers and waiting for the chance to sever their heads. Zylor hacked at his enemies regardless of what limbs were dismembered. Without their arms, the zombies’ heads were easy targets. They couldn’t refasten their arms quickly enough to prevent his axe from decapitating them first.
Harran, meanwhile, had discovered something important. When his magical axe sliced into his enemies, instead of freezing them, the zombies screamed and whirled away. But when they tried to reattach their limbs, they found they could not. After trying to pick up their limbs, they flinched and immediately threw them down in revulsion. The magic prevented them from reassembling themselves! Harran threw his stocky frame into their ranks and took advantage of the axe’s strange new ability.
The companions stood resolutely against the onslaught but the zombies’ numbers continued to climb, with more arriving every minute. Sheer force of numbers pushed the party of five back little by little.
A group of zombies broke past Sherman after one successfully grabbed his left arm. Sherman tried to deal with the enemy while the others came at Kazin. Ice bolts shot from Kazin’s palm to shred the front ranks but there were too many. Skirting around the mage, they threw themselves mindlessly at the unprotected horses.
The horses screamed in fear and agony and struggled against the reins while the mage and cleric tried frantically to prevent them from fleeing. In the end, the spell casters did not have the strength to hold the frightened horses. Their mounts broke free and bolted, tearing into the zombies and bucking in fear. They broke past the undead creatures and charged off into the fog. Harran’s huge warhorse did the most damage, kicking and trampling the zombies into the earth. This diversion gave the spell casters a temporary reprieve, but that was short lived as Zylor howled in rage and pain.
Some twenty or thirty zombies were swarming the minotaur and one was tangled around his legs. He fell backward and rolled to the side. Harran came to his aid and slashed at the minotaur’s assailants, giving Zylor a chance to rise to his feet. The minotaur hobbled back into his position and continued to fight with a savage wrath.
The temporary break in the barricade was enough to allow a swarm of zombies to break through the middle and press against the spell casters. This left Sherman cut off from the rest of the group.
With a battle cry not unlike a minotaur’s, Sherman spun in a wild fury, hacking everything around him as though he were cutting blades of grass. Arms and limbs went flying, and the zombies seemed to retreat despite their numbers.
The mage and cleric were too busy to notice. Milena cast her ‘dispel undead’ spell and many simply collapsed. Others were thrown down with ice bolts cutting into their flesh. This wouldn’t have been enough if it wasn’t for the dwarf and minotaur making a timely counter attack from behind. Sherman could still be seen not far away towering over a field of zombies.
Kazin was beginning to feel ill again. His stomach was burning once again but there was no time to deal with that problem right now. He stumbled over a stone and staggered against a wall. Surprised, he looked up and saw the object they were walking toward earlier. It was a tomb of some sort. An image of a gargoyle was etched into the wall but there seemed to be no other distinguishing features. The top had a short overhang and the roof sloped back to the rear right into the ground. The wall was only about eight feet wide but no doors were evident.
Kazin turned to see what his friends were doing but they had turned to face another throng of zombies. Sherman was still whirling in frenzy off to the left. But Kazin’s attention wasn’t on them. It was on his staff. The orb atop the staff glowed a bright fluorescent orange.
Kazin remembered when it had done that before. It was when he was in front of one of the lizardmages’ secret doorways. He spun around and stared at the wall in shock. Surrounding the gargoyle engraving was a glowing orange line! If Kazin and his friends could get in there, they could shut the zombies out and hopefully catch their breaths and figure out what to do next.
Kazin began to chant some door opening spells but they didn’t work. He sagged to his knees in despair. It was no use. The door wouldn’t open, just like the one in the mountain. He did not know the spells to open these doors. He stared at the glowing outline in front of him forlornly.
Suddenly he heard the mad laughter that had plagued him on and off the past few weeks. He tried to ignore it as he did in the past but it rose to a hoarse, screeching laugh. Kazin held his head but it wouldn’t stop. It grew louder and louder and finally he thought he heard the voice speak.
“Fool!” it cried. “Point! How hard can that be?” It broke off into a hoarse, insane laugh and then began to dissipate. Finally it was gone and Kazin rose shakily to his feet. There were cries and grunts behind him but he ignored them. He knew now what to do.
He planted his feet squarely and raised his staff, pointing it at the door. With a groan of protest it gave way, surging outward and allowing light into its dusty entrance. Beyond, a black, gaping hole was evident, stretching down into the earth. A set of grey, dust-covered stairs led down into that darkness. A musty odour emanated from the entrance but Kazin barely noticed, shouting in glee and drawing the attention of the others.
They saw him beckon and worked their way toward him, fighting off zombies in the process.
Kazin lit his staff and led them into the tomb entrance. “Where’s Sherman?” he asked, seeing only the other three members of the party following him.
“He’s still out there,” said Zylor raggedly. He had obviously fought hard.
“Stay here,” ordered Harran. The dwarf surged out past the zombies who were uncertainly milling around outside the tomb. Apparently there were afraid to enter. A few moments later there was a slight commotion and the dwarf and warrior appeared, slashing their way through the ranks of undead.
At last they threw themselves into the tomb and Sherman swung the tomb door shut with a loud bang. He lifted the interior latch and swung it into place. Then he turned to look at the others in the dim light of Kazin’s staff.
The only thing they could hear now was the sound of their heavy breathing. Milena lit her staff and the additional light felt comforting. She looked at her injured companions and sighed. “O.K., Sherman. Come here so I can treat your wounds.”
Sherman moved forward and gently prodded his left arm. His sleeve hung in tatters and the skin showing through was white and shrivelled.
“The touch of the dead,” said Milena in explanation, “also known as ‘tomb rot’.” She deftly applied some healing salve and chanted a healing spell. Then she took a strip of cloth and bandaged the wound. “Try to keep it clean,” she ordered. The big warrior nodded silently and moved away.
Milena glanced at Kazin but he shoo
k his head. She looked at Zylor and rose. “I’m going to have to heal you once again, Zylor.” The minotaur nodded, looking down at his leg. Wherever the zombie had touched, his leg was exposed and dried looking. The hair was falling out in tufts. “It feels numb.”
The cleric bent over to examine the wound and there was a sudden gasp behind her. She spun around to see the warrior moving toward her. He lifted a portion of her torn robe and exposed the back of one of her legs.
“You’d better heal yourself first, Milena,” said Sherman sternly. “If you die, who is going to heal us?”
Milena flushed. “I will tend to it. Let me see to the minotaur first. Or would you rather carry him?”
Sherman looked at the minotaur and seemed to debate the matter. Finally he nodded and went back to the doorway and sat down.
Milena took care of Zylor’s leg, admonishing him to put more pressure on the other leg if possible, knowing that resting the bad leg at this time was not possible.
She took care of Harran’s wounds, all of which were superficial, and finally tended to her own injuries. The others all watched in silence.
When Milena finished, Zylor asked, “Now what?”
“We could go out and see if those zombies are gone,” suggested Sherman.
“Then what?” repeated the minotaur. “Wander around in circles?”
Sherman flushed. “Do you have any better ideas?”
The minotaur grunted and shook his head.
“We could wait until the weather improves,” suggested Milena. “Then we can fight our way through the zombies and find our way out.”
“We may not be able to survive that long,” said Kazin. “Our supplies are gone with the horses.”
“I say we should go down the stairs and explore,” said the dwarf.
Milena was aghast. “But there’s nothing but tombs and coffins down there!”
“If we explore a little way, I might be able to find another way out of here,” said the dwarf. “It’s not unlike being inside a mountain.”
Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy Page 29