by A J Dalton
Mordius wiped a drip off water from off the end of his nose and sniffed mournfully. 'Perhaps we can get back inside now and change into some dry clothes. Savantus, there isn't any Stangeld brandy around, is there?'
Savantus raised his eyebrows at that. 'You know, I think we might be able to liberate some from old Innius's rooms. He used to take a perverse pleasure in blackmailing me with his superior wines and spirits, you know. The man was a monster.'
'It would be appropriate to raise a glass to Nostracles's memory,' the Scourge concurred, a light in his eyes.
'Even I can appreciate good spirits,' Saltar said impassively.
They all looked at Kate, as if asking her permission. She shook her head and sighed. 'I'm not about to insult Accritanian culture and its fine distilleries by refusing to try their brandy, now am I? Besides, it's treason to refuse royal hospitality, isn't it?' she said and led the group of six back towards the palace.
***
After a few hours, the Scourge, Young Strap and the two necromancers were well into their cups. Saltar decided Savantus wasn't in any state to get up to mischief and took the opportunity to leave the group and go in search of Kate, who had retired to her rooms early. His footsteps were slightly unsteady, no doubt due to Mordius's drunken grip on the necromatic magic, but Saltar managed to find his way without much trouble.
'Come in!' she called as he knocked on the door. 'Ah! There you are at last.'
Saltar closed the door behind him and stood rooted to the spot as he looked from across the room at her. She had removed her green leather armour and wore a loose fitting blouse and pantaloons. Her hair was down rather than scraped back into the habitual pony tail.
She raised her arms and span coquettishly for him. 'Well? I found the garments in the wardrobe.'
'Having your hair like that softens the lines and features of your face. And the material looks to be of good quality.'
Her arms and face dropped. 'Is that meant to be a compliment? Would you like to try again?'
He attempted one of his imperfect smiles, hoping that it didn't look like a grimace or a hound snarling. 'I am sorry, Kate. I could see the outline of your figure better in the leather.'
'I see!' she said without the hint of a smile. 'I want to know how it makes you feel. I don't want you simply telling me what you can observe.'
He was silent for a while. Then, quietly, he said, 'Kate, I am one of the dead.'
'No!'
'I feel almost nothing.'
'Damn it, Saltar, that's no excuse! I know you have feelings for me. You all but said so in the throne room when we fought Innius and Siddorax. You're frightened, aren't you? It's alright, because I'm frightened too.'
'Kate,' he said in the same quiet voice, 'I can't feel frightened. My mind and body are numb to all but the most basic sensations. The most I ever feel is when I drink brandy, and that's only because it eats away at my guts.'
'Stop it!' she said with a tear in her voice. 'I mean more than that to you. I know I do!'
'I cannot promise you anything.'
'I'm not asking you to promise me anything, you idiot!'
'None of this is fair to you. I might never come back to full life. I don't even know who I really was when I was alive. Maybe my memories will come back, maybe they won't. I might find I already have a wife, children perhaps.'
Her eyes were glistening now. 'Why are you doing this?'
He paused. 'I don't want to hurt you.'
She laughed incredulously. 'Hurting me is precisely what you're doing, you bastard!'
'I don't mean to.'
'Why don't you mean to? Why don't you want to hurt me?'
'Because... because...'
'Well?'
'I - '
'Say it! Or are you frightened to say it? You said you couldn't feel fear. Or were you lying?'
He looked silently at her, none of his features stirring. She hugged her arms to hide the involuntary shiver his clammy gaze caused in her. Then he said: 'You make me want life more than anything. You are life, you are this world to me. You are everything. When I heard about who I had been as Balthagar, the only thing that stopped me destroying myself there and then was you. I have killed thousands, but would kill as many again for a chance of being raised to a full life with you. It is beyond what I can observe, it is beyond what I can feel, it is beyond what I can say and do. There is only one word that comes close to it and that word is Kate.'
She was suddenly in his arms, hands on his chest. 'See, that wasn't so difficult, was it? Now kiss me!'
'I think you will find I have the mustiness of decay about me. My breath...'
'Shut up! That's an order!'
'Yes, mistress,' he said meekly.
***
The Street of Dragons was decidedly quiet, like all the other streets before it. Coats of arms could be seen in bas relief above the doors of most of the tall houses. Many of the shields bore dragons, and a few of the houses had coiled statues of winged serpents beneath the eves of their roofs, but everything was still.
'Can you feel eyes watching you?' Young Strap asked in a strained whisper.
'Well, you're watching me, aren't you?' Kate said in an even voice.
Young Strap noticed that she watched the shuttered windows as much as he did, but he chose not to challenge her on it. Her found her more intimidating that the Scourge in some ways. Instead, he tried another tack:
'Do you really think we can do this?'
'Do what?'
'Raise an army and invade Dur Memnos?'
'Yes.'
'Oh.'
She relented somewhat. 'Don't you?'
'Well... it's just that... oh, I don't know, maybe. Just seems a tall order, is all.'
'Won't get any easier if we can't find this General, though. Here we are! The house with the red dragon on it.'
Young Strap looked the house up and down doubtfully. 'Looks all boarded up to me. Got an abandoned feel to it.'
'I'd seal my house up tight too if I had to live in Accros. Who knows what Innius and Savantus used to visit on the citizenry? Go pull that bell rope by the door. I'll hold your reins.'
Young Strap did as she bid him. The bell jangled and echoed deep within the house.
'Open up in the name of the King!' Kate hollered from where she sat her horse in the middle of the street. Her demand was met by a deafening silence.
'Now what?' Young Strap asked.
'We kick the door in.'
'What? Can we do that?'
'We have the King's warrant. We can do what the hell we like. If there's someone in there, then they're committing treason by not unbarring the way at the King's command. And if there's no one in there, then it doesn't really matter, does it?'
'Okay,' Young Strap accepted. 'Look at that door, though. My shoulder won't be much good against that. Nor will my sword.'
Kate sighed. 'Get to work on one of the shuttered windows then. They don't look all that sturdy. The owner's put that door there to make a statement more than anything else. It's not really indicative of how secure the rest of the place is. You know what these nobles are like.'
Young Strap pulled his blade from its sheath and set to work trying to get its edge between two flimsy shutters. He could have hacked at them and quickly turned them into kindling, but he was loath to damage the property of a general, whether he was at home or not.
Shutters on the second floor of the house were suddenly flung open and unruly, flame-red hair emerged.
'By Shakri's heavenly bosom, who's making that racket? Be off or I'll call out the guard!' roared a voice that must have graced many a parade ground.
'Looks like we've woken the red dragon,' Kate observed.
The man's hair was red, his face was red, and his eyes looked to be red as well. He squinted against the daylight, as if he'd either been asleep or down in the wine cellar all day.
'Are you General Constantus?' Kate asked politely.
'Bugger off!'
&nbs
p; 'We're Memnosians,' Kate informed him. 'We heard that there might still be the odd Accritanian soldier around the place. Would you happen to be one of those?'
There was a second's silence and then the man shouted angrily: 'Just give me a second to get my sword and I'll be straight down to attend to you!' The head disappeared from the aperture.
Young Strap looked at Kate with obvious misgivings. 'Are you sure that was a good idea?'
'Quickest way to get him out of there,' she yawned. 'At least we know he's still got some fight left in him.'
Heavy bolts on the other side of the front door were drawn back, accompanied by a mixture of oaths and curses, and then it was yanked open. A large figure filled the entrance way. Despite the soiled and ill-fitting uniform, a girth against which he had lost the battle, and an apparent inability to stand up completely straight, let alone at attention, he made for an impressive sight. He had the neck and shoulders of a bull, the hands and forearms of a blacksmith and the legs of a wrestler. The sword that he clutched in one hand was many-times notched, while the battered goblet that he held in the other had clearly been many-times filled and emptied.
'So you've come at last,' the General glowered. 'Don't expect me to come quietly. You'll get no show trial or public execution out of me. I'm ready to die here with my sword in my hands.'
'General, I would ask you to accompany us to the palace. We want you to lead us to war against Dur Memnos.'
***
The doors of the dragon and hydra boomed with Kate's warning knock and began to swing open slowly. Their incredible weight was offset by a clever mechanism hidden inside the walls, but even so their size made them seem as unstoppable as the doom of a kingdom. The two Guardians entered and marched to their seats behind the table beneath the throne's dais. The General of the red dragons was left to enter on his own and stand before both the seated council of war and the King.
Constantus refused to make eye contact with all those seated behind the long table to face him, and bowed towards the throne.
'Your Majesty,' Constantus called in a strident voice, 'I answer as commanded, as I have ever done.'
The air rang with silence. Savantus refolded his hands before him, to draw the attention of the Accritanian soldier.
'General, do you know me?'
'Yes, my Lord High Necromancer. We met at a royal function some ten years past. We did not speak, as I recall.'
Savantus blinked. 'Indeed. Accritania was a different place then. I must tell you, Innius is no more.'
The General nodded but maintained his soldier's mask. 'And how fares the King?'
'Saddened by the latest defeat of his army. What remains at the throne's command, General?'
'I gave a full report to the palace this month past, my Lord High Necromancer.'
'Indulge us, General. Your forbearance, if you please.'
Again, the General's face was unresponsive, and he kept his opinion of Savantus's ignorance to himself. 'We have some few hundred men, my Lord High Necromancer. Most have returned to their families in the countryside... to await the end. Those without families are scattered across the city. In short, my Lord High Necromancer, we are finished.'
'I see. Well, General, His Majesty disagrees with you. He has asked me to raise an army of the dead against Dur Memnos. Accritania will march on their age old enemy one last time. The pride of Accritania must be saved. The brave lives of our soldiers and people will not have been lost in vain. Revenge will be ours.'
'With these Memnosians!' Constantus added, the way he accented the last word making clear he disapproved. His eyes trained on Saltar and narrowed. 'That one I know. Never will I stand next to Balthagar the Curse, unless it is draw my blade across his evil throat!'
'General!' Savantus snapped, to draw the man's attention back to himself. 'He is no longer that man you knew as your enemy. He is dead and ruled by the necromancer who sits beside me here.'
'Nonetheless, I like it not. I have no truck with magicians of the dead. I would hear His Majesty speak on this himself!'
'You dare make demands of your King...!'
'Savantus, let him look upon his King,' the Scourge interrupted tiredly. 'The General is an intelligent and proud man. He won't be won over by an upbraiding from a royal magician who hasn't even seen any of the fighting. And he's not about to trust Memnosians like us until he apprehends the true state of affairs for himself. Please, approach the throne of Accritania, General, and present yourself.'
Constantus squared his shoulders and marched past them. He climbed the few steps up onto the dais, and then his mask slipped.
'Wh... wh... wha...?' gasped the General.
The Scourge still sat with his back to the dais. His head bowed slightly as he empathised with the man's shock and pain. Young Strip fidgeted in his seat. Even Savantus shifted uncomfortably.
'By the holy pantheon, what is this? Who has done this? Answer me!'
None of them could find their voices.
'Answer me, damn you! Or so help me I'll... I'll...'
'General,' Saltar said without modulation, 'it would appear that His Majesty has been kept alive unnaturally. There seems little doubt that this is some of Innius's work. I do not think the King has eaten or moved from his throne in some years, but alive he still is. Those here could not bring themselves to commit regicide when His Majesty was so clearly already a victim. I suspect some think it would be kinder to end it, but all life, no matter its origin or quality, is holy to the goddess. Indeed, the Wardens were of Voltar's making but their lives were still important to Shakri, if the deaths of her priests are to be interpreted so.'
'By all that's merciful!' Constantus cried. 'Who are you people? I saw my King but a few years ago. He was advanced in years, to be certain, but still alert, still a great man. He... he... knew me. How has this happened? What has our nemesis Voltar got to do with this? May all the forces that exist, holy and unholy, rend his misbegotten, jackal-birthed soul! Savantus! Surely you could have stopped this! It was your duty!'
Savantus shook his head. 'Innius kept His Majesty from me. His guard prevented my access. It seems the King disapproved of my arts, little realising that the succubus priest worked influence of a darker kind on him.'
'You snivelling coward! That's no excuse!'
'General,' Kate spoke up, 'there is no doubt all necromancers are craven, cunning and conniving. They thrive on the waste of humanity. They infest Shakri's realm just as worms, maggots and blood fleas feed on a bloated corpse. I am a Guardian, General. It is my purpose to hunt necromancers out of existence. I must tell you that we now know our own King, Voltar, is a necromancer of the worst kind. That is why we are appealing to you to help us take back Dur Memnos. Yet this is about much more than just Dur Memnos and Accritania. This is about the survival of humanity itself.'
A psychotic rage transfixed Savantus's face, but Saltar kept him in place with an adamantine grip.
Mordius was the epitome of misery itself. 'I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!'
Constantus swore colourfully. 'I need a drink.'
Young Strap looked up and said softly, 'We have some Stangeld brandy left.'
'First thing anyone's said that makes any sense,' Constantus spat.
The Scourge nodded his head. 'We should withdraw to another room to talk further. Whether you join us or not, General, I would like to be on the march in twenty-four hours from now.'
'So soon?' Constantus asked, his army brain beginning to work. 'I won't be able to gather more than a hundred men in that time. Still, it will mean fewer horses and provisions to find. What of the dead?'
'You whoresons!' Savantus screamed. 'If you think I'm going to...'
'Saltar, silence him!' the Scourge shouted.
The animee immediately put a clamp on the insane necromancer's throat so that he choked. He let him go at precisely that second that was the difference between unconsciousness and death.
'Right, where were we? Ah, yes, the dead. Some several thousand ha
ve already reached Accros at Savantus's call. More will join us as we march, since they never sleep and will overtake us at night. We cannot afford to wait.'
'Why is that?'
'The bump at the back of my head,' the Scourge replied. 'I can feel that we're all but out of time. The end will not wait upon our leisure. It's like that feeling in the air before a storm. By the time you realise what the feeling betokens, the storm is already upon you and you are caught in it.'
Constantus nodded thoughtfully. 'I'll need a drink in my hand to ponder that fully.'
'There is more,' Saltar said and they all turned to him, except for Savantus who was still unmoving. 'The realms of Shakri and Lacrimos blur together more and more. Voltar has pulled aside the veil between life and death. He wishes to rule both realms and beyond. When I am asked to fight, I find more and more often that I am standing in both realms. With every passing moment, the dead outnumber the living. All is ending. All is converging. There will be no life or death, fate or meaning. Even the gods will be lost. The apocalypse is upon us.'
'Shit!' Constantus said. 'Better make it a large drink.'
***
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: As we fear to end
Savantus looked down on the silent host from his balcony. They filled the palace precinct in such numbers that despite his distance, the miasma of death and decay that surrounded them still reached him. They waited with that patience only the dead were capable of. It was a patience that was defined by an absence of intention, but a patience that was the more implacable and uncompromising for it. They had all eternity to wait. Ultimately, he would be claimed by them. The seeming “command” he had of them was nothing more than a moment of tragic self-delusion that Shakri called “life” and ordered Lacrimos to all as an inconsequential indulgence. What was the point?
It was a conundrum and dilemma that trapped them all. People were like forest animals without the wit to recognise the baited or concealed trap in front of them. The jaws of the metal trap would snap shut and hold them in place to wait upon the leisure of Death the trapper, who would eventually come to finish them off. There was only one gambit left to those with the courage to take it: gnaw off the trapped limb, escape and hope the wound did not kill you.