Necromancer's Gambit (The Flesh & Bone Trilogy Book 1)

by A J Dalton

  Mordius lay on his stomach across the window ledge and eased himself backwards. The wind flared his robe up around his waist and the necromancer was forced to suffer the ignominy of his legs and smalls being bared to the elements. The goddess of creation displayed the strangest of humours sometimes. Surely that wasn’t laughter he heard on the wind was it?

  ‘Sorry about that!’ he puffed at Saltar once he’d picked himself up out of a conveniently positioned drift of snow beneath the window.

  ‘For what? You did well,’ Saltar observed without even the flicker of a smile.

  ‘I see. Never mind. Let’s go!’

  They hurried into the stable, the snow already beginning to fill their footprints behind them.

  ‘Silver for the boy, Mordius!’

  ‘I only have gold.’

  ‘That will do,’ Saltar decided and pressed a shiny coin into the goggling stable boy’s hand. Saltar gestured towards Mordius’s saddle and the boy leapt to get their horse ready.

  ‘Should we take their horses?’ Mordius whispered as he pulled more clothing on. ‘It will stop them from following us too quickly.’

  ‘They look well-trained brutes. I’m not sure even Kate’s horse would co-operate. Probably not worth the time and effort. I’ve got a better idea. Give me your knife!’

  Mordius handed the knife over reluctantly. ‘You’re not going to… oh, I see!’

  When the animee had finished, he went to the stable boy one last time. ‘I would take it as a great favour if you would wait a while before raising the alarm. If Wim is kind, then we will meet you again on our way back from Accritania, when we can reward you further.’

  ‘Sure!’ the boy replied happily. ‘Here, take this extra horse blanket with you. We’ve got lots and you’re wearing little more than a dancing girl.’

  ‘I take it that’s where the resemblance ends?’ Mordius sniggered.

  Saltar looked from Mordius to the grinning boy and back again. ‘But of course it is. We have to go now.’

  ***

  CHAPTER TEN: For the gods watch over us

  ‘You will have to pay for all the damages!’ Mistress Harcourt said definitively, yanking hard on the ends of the bandage she was tying around Tilon’s arm and making him yelp. The Scourge had had to stick her husband with his sword to make him drop his slashing meat cleaver.

  ‘I’m not just a King’s Guardian, woman, I’m the King’s Scourge!’

  ‘He’s no King of mine! The Only Inn is neutral, everyone knows that.’

  ‘He’s coming round!’ Nostracles said from where he crouched over the sprawled Young Strap.

  ‘Good, then we’ll be going!’ the Scourge nodded to himself.

  ‘Not until I get some answers, we don’t!’ Kate asserted. Then she remembered she was talking to her commander: ‘Besides, Young Strap won’t be able to move for a while, so we may as well sort out just what possessed the three of you to attack my friends. You’re seriously deluded if you think Saltar’s an animee. Don’t you think I’d know if he was the creature of some zombie-maker?’

  Nostracles nodded his head as Kate spoke but knew better than to say anything.

  The Scourge couldn’t help bridling at the female Guardian’s words. ‘I’ve been in this game longer than you’ve been alive, so be careful who you’re calling deluded. The stable lad’s just told us that your friend Saltar called the other one Mordius. That’s exactly the name Shakri gave us.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Kate asked looking at him oddly, as if she really did think he was deluded.

  ‘It’s true!’ Nostracles said. ‘We have met the holy Shakri… twice! We are doubly blessed!’

  Tilon’s jaw dropped in disbelief and Mistress Harcourt had to close his mouth for him. Kate shook her head. ‘The priest’s water didn’t work. You saw that! You must have been misled by some impostor.’

  ‘That’s not possible!’ Nostracles insisted. ‘I would have known if it was not the holy one. Besides, I do not believe it is the goddess’s will that we destroy this Saltar. The fact that the water did not work was a sign of that.’

  ‘Or a sign that he’s not an animee!’ Kate said exasperatedly. ‘What you’re saying just doesn’t add up. Shakri wouldn’t want to protect any animee or necromancer, since they represent the very forces that challenge her. You said you would have known if it was not her you met, priest, but no man is infallible.’

  ‘Necromancer and animee they may be, but I believe Mordius and Saltar are meant to help bring about an end to this war, a war that serves Lacrimos more than any other god. It is like when an animal is ill. The animal will eat grass, the very substance that makes it physically sick. And when a man wishes to build his immunity to a poison, he will ingest small and regular amounts of it until he can take larger and larger doses of it safely.’

  ‘What’s this? An end to the war?’ Mistress Harcourt snorted. ‘That won’t be good for anyone’s business. And then there’ll be too many people and not enough food to go round. The war’s a good thing. It keeps a natural check on the greedy appetites of man.’

  ‘Kate,’ the Scourge asked gently. ‘Did you like this Saltar?’

  Her face went pale and the emotions of fury and dismay warred across it. Nostracles bent back to Young Strap. Mistress Harcourt gave her husband a shove and pointed towards the kitchen. The two of them left together.

  ‘He was my friend,’ she finally managed hoarsely. ‘He just can’t… he couldn’t be!’

  The Scourge shook his head. ‘All I know is the King has ordered the recovery of the stolen body of one of his heroes, and that the responsible necromancer be tracked down. We’ve followed a trail that’s led us here. Along the way, we were visited by the goddess, who seemed to think that her helping us find this necromancer and hero – this Mordius and Saltar – somehow increased the odds of the war being brought to an end. It’s not clear to me if she intended for us to kill Mordius and Saltar or to aid them. You’ve heard Nostracles’s views on the matter. I know my duty. What about you, Guardian?’

  ‘I know my duty,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Fine. We will wait until Young Strap is recovered sufficiently to sit a horse and then we will be after them.’

  ‘But I’ll need proof of what they are before any fighting starts!’

  ‘Fair enough. There’ll be some significant wound on Saltar’s body if he is the hero who died in the battle. He’ll have to remove his jacket, agreed?’

  Kate nodded dully, trying not to think about how little Saltar had appeared to eat, how little he’d slept, how far he could walk without any need for respite… stop it, woman! But she couldn’t. She shuddered. She felt sullied somehow. Betrayed, foolish, cheated. Then she was angry. Finally, she was scared.

  ***

  ‘Oh, by Wim’s ever-shifting scrotum! The cinches on all the saddles have been cut. Where’s that stable lad?’

  ‘Not around,’ Kate smiled, showing no real concern at the vandalism done to the saddles by Saltar. Besides, Kate’s own saddle, which had been up in one of the rooms, had not been touched. ‘Sensible of him not to be around if you think about it. It’ll take at least half an hour to do the repairs.’

  ‘It’s getting dark, Scourge,’ Nostracles pointed out. ‘Perhaps it would be better to stay here the night and let Young Strap get the rest he needs.’

  The Scourge glowered at them. ‘Kate, Young Strap, I am ordering you to get those saddles repaired, now! If we wait till morning, we’ll have no chance of picking up their trail in this snow.’

  ‘But, Scourge, they’re not going to get far ahead of us in this weather at night. Besides, I know where they’re going…’ Kate tailed off.

  ‘What? Now she tells us! Out with it!’

  ‘At least, I think I know. Mordius mentioned knowing people in and around Accros. Of course, he could have been lying.’

  ‘But we can’t be sure!’ the Scourge said in disgust. ‘Is that it? Now we’re on the subject, do you have any clue at
all as to why the two of them are heading for Accritania? Didn’t you pick up on any anything whatsoever? Why would this necromancer raise one of the King’s own heroes and then leave Dur Memnos?’

  Kate chewed on her thumb as she thought. ‘And what’s Shakri got to do with it?’

  Nostracles clearly seemed to think that question required an answer of him. ‘What does any necromancer want other than to increase his or sway over the dead, thereby to increase their sway over the living and the goddess’s creation? They all seek power.’

  ‘And there seems to be some great source of necromantic power in Accritania, judging by the numbers of them said to be occupying that kingdom,’ the Scourge took up animatedly. ‘That’s it, then! Mordius intends to claim his share of that power. And he’s obviously expecting one hell of a fight, given the effort he’s put into creating a weapon like Saltar. If you ask me, he’s making a bid for the whole lot, complete sway over life and death. We have to kill him before he becomes too powerful for us to handle anymore. We’ve got no time to lose! We need an awl and leather needle for these saddles, now! Kate, see if you can find that damned stable boy or go rouse Tilon from the kitchens.’

  ‘Wait!’ she said, flustered. ‘Mordius isn’t like that. He’s a nice man. He’s harmless!’

  ‘Kate,’ Nostracles said gently. ‘You’ve just said yourself you did not know if he was lying to you. How can you know whether the face he showed you was a mask or not? What we do know is that necromancy ultimately serves Lacrimos, He who knows only malevolence for the works of the goddess.’

  Kate hung her head and nodded miserably. ‘I’ll find the boy. You two look after Young Strap, then.’

  The Scourge and Nostracles realised they’d been neglecting the young Guardian and turned to regard the figure sat resting against one of the stalls. His head lolled forwards, but his eyes were open and had a glassy look.

  ‘I would try to heal him further, but it would put him to sleep. Dare we risk leading a sleeping man in the dark and in this weather?’

  ‘We must. There’s no choice, priest.’

  ***

  ‘Well?’

  ‘They seek the Heart!’ she gasped with ill-concealed excitement.

  ‘They are more than impertinent.’

  ‘The Scourge considers them a credible threat. He pursues them. Another Guardian, Kate, is with the Scourge now, although she travelled with Mordius and Balthagar before. There was a confrontation between Balthagar and the Scourge, but I did not witness it because Young Strap was unconscious at the time.’

  The King was silent as he pondered the white sorceress’s information. Lucius’s fingers were still frozen mid-chord above the strings of his greater lute. The musician knew better than to twitch and risk attracting the King’s unforgiving attention. The white sorceress quivered with some emotion Lucius could not read. The air resonated with it and Lucius’s hair prickled as the air became charged. He was drawn to her despite himself and the danger she represented.

  ‘How does this Mordius know of the Heart? Is he a servant of Lacrimos? Does the god think He can circumvent our understanding and win Himself the advantage? Does this Mordius think to challenge me?’

  ‘I do not know the answers to such questions.’

  ‘You wouldn’t hold anything back from me, would you?’ the King asked lightly.

  ‘I could not do so.’

  ‘I’m not sure if that’s true either. There’s nothing else for it. Summon Him.’

  Lucius hadn’t thought it possible, but the white sorceress actually seemed to turn paler than she usually was. ‘B-but…’

  ‘I’m not interested in listening to your stammering. It is not for you to question me. If you force me to repeat my instruction to you, I fear you will have robbed me completely of my generous mood. I will begin to think you are taking advantage of my overly-considerate nature.’

  For the first time, Lucius caught a glimpse of fear in the white sorceress’s eyes. ‘It will be as you say,’ came her barely audible whisper.

  She closed her watery coloured eyes and gripped the arms of the chair in which she sat. A wind began to stir in the room and buffet them. It played discordant notes on Lucius’s lute that defied any attempt he made to quiet them. A moaning came from the chimney breast and extinguished the small fire that had been playing there. An unearthly shrieking filled the room and Lucius clapped his hands to his ears. It did no good and he felt it nibbling at the edges of his reason.

  The voice that began to issue from the white sorceress’s mouth threatened to tip him all the way over the edge. Every tendon and ligament in the sorceress’s body was stretched to its limit and stood out so that she looked a thousand years old. Ugly red veins began to spider across the sorceress’s linen white face from the corners of her eyes and mouth.

  ‘Voltar!’ the multi-layered voice cascaded and avalanched around them. ‘I know and define you.’

  The King was unblinking. ‘Lacrimos, I name you and claim dominion over you.’

  ‘Dominion over me is eternal, and you are certainly not that. You are as insubstantial as air. You think this creature is a vessel for my presence. It cannot be, for it is nothing but a shadow trying to pick up a solid object. Voltar, I command you to kill her.’

  ‘Lacrimos, you will obey me. Solid objects, light and shadows are only different forms of matter. Answer me this question: does Mordius obey you?’

  Rage battered at them and Lucius collapsed to the floor. His head and body pressed down onto the flagstones and he couldn’t move an inch. But the King was unmoved.

  ‘No!’ thundered the god.

  ‘I see. Then he is an even greater threat than I had first imagined. What will you do to destroy Mordius and Balthagar? Answer me!’

  ‘I rule in Accritania. Either they will bow to me or cease to be.’

  ‘So I command you. And I command you to do nothing that might help them challenge my dominion.’

  ‘These are not commands. They are pleas for me to intercede in mortal affairs. I see fit to answer those pleas, but the consequences will be borne by mortal affairs by definition.’

  ‘No!’ Lucius squeaked from where he was on the floor, having to scrape his jaw across the stone just to articulate that one word.

  Death turned its unseeing gaze towards Lucius.

  ‘Kill it, Voltar!’

  The King smiled in amusement. ‘For such gentle singing? He is the royal musician and retained for just such singing. He will not be killed for now, but he should take care that his music continues to please the ear and entertain. Perhaps there’s some favourite tune you would request of him, Lacrimos? Some funeral march, perhaps?’

  As the god departed, the white sorceress fell as if dead from the throne and landed across Lucius’s back. The King crouched as he considered the two of them. ‘Ah, Lucius, what are we to do with you? Surely you know it’s treason to touch the King’s own consort.’

  Lucius still couldn’t lift his head and almost turned his eyeballs over trying to look round pleadingly at the King. Tears began to pool on the flagstones around his head.

  ‘On top of that, you had the temerity to interrupt both a King and a god. Blasphemy and treason all at once! In a way, I’m impressed at just the full extent of the outrage. Why would you offer your life up to make such an interruption? And look, you’ve soiled your trousers! I see now you simply could not control yourself, that you do not have my degree of self-possession. That is why I am the King and you’re not, you see? You do see that, Lucius, don’t you?’

  Lucius nodded his head a painful fraction and took the skin off his cheek.

  ‘Good. Then we’ll say no more about it. When you find you can move again, clean yourself up and see to the consort. Get her to her rooms and see that she is well. If you need help, then the Chamberlain will be aware of the fact and find you. He has a talent that way. Once the consort has been suitably attended, you will return here and clean the mess you’ve made off the floor with your tongue
. That will teach you the value of being careful about what you use that tongue for. And if the floor is not cleaned to my satisfaction, then that tongue will be cut out, you will be made to eat it and then you will be tortured imaginatively until you are on the point of death and ready for Lacrimos to take His turn with you. Why I’m even giving you a chance can only be because of my unique depth of understanding of the weakness of mortals. Ah, me! I hope I do not come to regret my compassion.’

  Lucius watched the heels of King Voltar as he walked away and left the room. He assumed the white sorceress still lay sprawled on top of him, but she weighed so little he couldn’t be sure she was there. What sort of life was this? Perhaps a quick death would be preferable.

  ‘Don’t leave me!’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Your music is the only joy I know. You are the only joy I know.’

  He closed his eyes in silent agony. Why was it Shakri had invented love? What was it the priests used to say? Without love, life would have no meaning. They were only partly correct it seemed. What they should have said was that without love and pain life would have no meaning.

  ***

  They forged their way through the raging blizzard and entered Worm Pass. The wind died down almost instantly and they were all free to leave their huddled positions and sit straight in their saddles, all except Young Strap, who was tied down against the neck of his mount.

  Sheer walls of rock rose to either side of them. The walls were only the width of a wagon apart and leaned slightly towards each other as they rose. A hundred feet or so above them, the walls touched in places or narrowed enough to hold back rock falls and large volumes of snow. During the day, patches of sky would be visible, but night had all but completed its descent now and they struggled to pick each other out in the murk.

  The Scourge pulled out a wooden faggot and tried to light it but had no joy. He uttered a profanity that would insult just about every god except Incarnus, the god of hate and passion, and then said calmly, ‘The flint must have gotten damp, and the cold’s not helping. Nostracles, is there anything you can do?’