The Undead Hordes of Kan-Gul

by Jon F. Merz

  Ran glanced at Jysal, but the young sorceress was still staring right at Kan-Gul. Clearly, the sorcerer had put her under some sort of incantation. Ran looked back at him. “Her name is Jysal.”

  Kan-Gul licked his lips. “She is utterly exquisite.”

  Ran nodded. “She is indeed beautiful.”

  “She is beyond mere beauty,” said Kan-Gul. “I can sense an energy flowing within her that renders even her appearance insignificant. I can almost taste the spirit of her essence on the air itself.”

  Ran shrugged. “She was on the ship when it went aground. Her protector was also taken during the second night we were on shore.”

  Kan-Gul nodded. “And I can certainly see why such a wondrous creature would require the assistance of a bodyguard. Something as delectable as this should not be wandering around these lands without a savior of some sort.”

  “Neviah was a very capable protector,” said Ran. “She would give her life to save her charge, I have no doubt.”

  “Nor I,” said Kan-Gul. “And unlike the Murai, she was far more graceful, despite her reluctance to speak.”

  “You have them both?”

  “I have all four of them,” said Kan-Gul. “They are safe for the moment. But whether they remain so is entirely up to the outcome of our conversation.”

  “What is it that you want?”

  Kan-Gul blinked and then reappeared next to Jysal. He moved his hands in a very strange fashion while muttering something guttural in a language Ran could not understand. Then he ran his hands over the surface of her tunic, cupping her breasts slightly and licking his lips as he did so. Ran felt his blood boil at such a show of disrespect but kept his temper in check. It would do him no good to lose control. At least not yet.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” said Kan-Gul after he had finished running his hands all over Jysal’s body. “I want this one to be my queen.”

  “And what of what she wants?” asked Ran. “Does that matter?”

  “Why should it? Women rarely know what they want until they are placed in a situation. It is only then that their true skill—that of adapting to a situation—becomes apparent.”

  “So you’re saying that Jysal will learn to love you?”

  “Exactly.” Kan-Gul clapped his hands, and in the next instant he was seated on his throne once more.

  “I don’t think she would like that very much.”

  Kan-Gul sighed. “Well, it’s either she become my queen or you all die. And honestly, either option will no doubt provide me with a great deal of enjoyment.” He grinned at Ran. “Who knows, if she refuses to be my bride and I have you all put to death, I may still force myself on her.”

  Ran frowned. “I would not let that happen.”

  “Really?” Kan-Gul’s smile spread even wider across his face. “And just how would you do that? You do not even have a sword.”

  Ran looked down, but the sword on his belt shimmered and then turned into a limp piece of rope that fell by his side. Another illusion, only this one had fooled him completely.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I’m afraid,” said Kan-Gul, “that our time grows short. I must therefore ask you to accompany my warriors to a special holding cell. But fear not, I think you will at least enjoy some company for a short time.” He waved a hand, and two of the Chekhal stepped forth from the wings to stand near Ran and Jysal. “Please do not attempt to escape. I assure you that this fortress has been designed specifically to thwart any attempt in that regard.”

  Ran smiled. “What are you doing now?”

  “I must tend to some business,” said Kan-Gul. “But fear not, we will see each other again very soon. I have a demonstration in mind that may make you reconsider my previous offer.”

  “I’m not in a position to agree to your offer,” said Ran. “You’re talking about a grown woman here. She should be able to make her own decisions. If she decides to stay with you, then so be it. But I cannot speak for her.”

  “Perhaps not, but you can certainly persuade her to consider my offer. And I would be so very glad if you would. It would make things a whole lot easier than the alternative.”

  Ran frowned. A demonstration. The alternative. None of it sounded good. But until he could figure out a plan of attack, there seemed little point in trying to kill Kan-Gul. Twice during their conversation, Ran had noticed the sorcerer himself appeared to shimmer. It was likely his image was nothing more than an illusion as well, with the real necromancer hiding somewhere close by. This first meeting was probably as much about gathering information about Ran and Jysal as it was about trying to intimidate them.

  The Chekhal were real enough, however, and Ran felt one of their hands close over his biceps. The grip was like a steel vise, and he almost winced at the pressure exerted on his arm. Fighting these things would prove to be a challenge, no doubt about it. But surely they must have some sort of weakness he could exploit. He would need more time to study them. It was likely he would end up battling them at some point soon.

  Jysal allowed herself to be led away without so much as a peep of protest, but then again, she still seemed to be under Kan-Gul’s control. Ran hoped it would wear off as soon as they were out of the throne room.

  The Chekhal steered them down twisting, winding passageways. Torches lit the way, fitted into brackets that seemed set unnaturally high into the walls. Who could have reached them? Then Ran realized that Kan-Gul didn’t need to reach them. They were probably magical, and one of his spells would be enough to replenish their light if need be.

  They reached a spiral stairway built of huge stone blocks leading downward into darkness. But as they descended, more torches flickered into existence. As they passed, the flames diminished and eventually vanished altogether. That must have been part of Kan-Gul’s plan to thwart escape. He probably thought that without light, most people would stumble about lost. Ran had been memorizing every detail that he could since they’d entered the keep.

  They gradually descended into the bowels of the castle. Ran sniffed the air. It was cold down here. And a variety of scents tickled his nostrils. One of them was unmistakable: fresh blood. But whose? He hoped it wasn’t from one of his fellow travelers.

  They reached the bottom of the stairway, and the Chekhal led them down a narrow passageway. Smaller torches cast dancing shadows on the walls as they passed what looked like prison cells. Heavy stone doors set with inlaid bars prohibited escape. The Chekhal guiding Jysal reached a cell and placed a key into the lock, turned it, and opened the door. He shoved Jysal inside and then stepped aside.

  The pressure on Ran’s arm increased, and he, too, was placed into the cell. He expected it to be cramped, but once inside, he could see that it was larger than he’d originally thought.

  It was also occupied.

  “Ran!”

  Malkyr lay slumped against the far wall, one hand clasped over his injured leg. Beside him sat Kancho, Neviah, and Vargul. Ran grinned in spite of their situation. “It’s good to see you all alive.”

  Neviah moved immediately to Jysal’s side. “What happened to her?”

  “Kan-Gul placed some sort of spell over her. She never moved, never uttered a word the entire time I spoke with Kan-Gul.”

  Kancho got to his feet. “Spoke with Kan-Gul? You saw him?”

  Ran nodded. “We just came from his throne room, actually. He’s a necromancer. And he’s fairly adept at illusions as well. He even had me fooled into thinking he’d given me my sword back.”

  Kancho grumbled. “I wish I had my sword back. I’d make short work of him and his band of thugs.”

  “What happened to you guys?” asked Ran. “We were on the beach, and then in the morning you were gone.”

  Kancho shook his head. “No one knows. We fell into some sort of sleep. When we awoke, this was where we found ourselves.”

  Ran gestured to Malkyr. “How is his injury?”

  “Better, actually,” said Kancho. “He’ll probably be able to walk within
a day.”

  “If we have a day,” said Vargul. “I’ve heard tales of this sorcerer. I know what he does to those he captures.”

  Kancho waved him off. “You’re still alive, Vargul. We don’t know anything about this man yet. It would be foolish to make predictions at this point, don’t you think, Ran?”

  Ran sighed and slumped down against the wall. “He seemed to know exactly what he was doing. He wants to take Jysal for his queen.”

  “What?” Neviah looked up, horrified. “There is no way I would ever permit that.”

  Ran held up his hand. “I told him as much. But he insisted that he would have her one way or another.”

  “I’ll die before she stays here with such a monster,” said Neviah. “How can he simply assume that she would ever consent to such a thing?”

  “Apparently,” said Ran, “that’s where I come in. He wants me to help convince her to stay here and marry him.”

  “Of course, you’ll do no such thing,” said Kancho.

  “Obviously,” said Ran.

  “There is only one option,” said Vargul. “We need to figure out how to escape. Did you see anything on the way down here, Ran?”

  Ran nodded. “Some. Kan-Gul uses a great deal of magic to make this place seem like a labyrinth, but I think there may be a way to get ourselves out of here.”

  “The sooner the better,” said Neviah. “His magic is apparently quite strong. I can’t seem to bring Jysal around.”

  Ran frowned. “I had hoped that once we were out of the throne room, she would snap out of it.”

  Neviah shook her head. “Not yet, at least. Perhaps if she sleeps.”

  But they heard a stomping of feet from outside their cell. Ran held up a hand. “It doesn’t sound like any of us are going to get any sleep right now.”

  Malkyr struggled to get to his feet. “What’s going on?”

  Kancho shushed him. “We don’t know.”

  The empty face of a Chekhal warrior appeared at the bars of their cell. “Stand back against the wall.”

  They all did as he told them, and then Ran heard the key jangle in the lock. He listened intently as the key turned and the lock opened. Then the door swung out into the corridor. The Chekhal waved them to exit. “You will follow me.”

  Ran led them out of the cell, following behind the Chekhal. Being this close to the soulless warrior allowed him to see if there was anything he could exploit to his advantage. Each Chekhal warrior seemed to wear some sort of special leather armor that moved and flexed very easily so they weren’t encumbered by any sort of bulk. Ran supposed that was good, since it would only offer limited protection.

  Unless Kan-Gul had bestowed additional properties on the armor. But there was no way of knowing that without getting into a fight with one of them.

  They moved past the stairway that led upstairs and down another long passageway. The air here felt warmer, and torches flickered brightly. In this passage, there were no prison cells, but Ran noted the existence of bunks along the wall. Was this where the Chekhal had their barracks? He glanced back at Kancho and pointed at the bunks. Kancho nodded.

  The existence of a barracks meant an extra bit of trouble for them during any sort of escape, Ran thought. If there were guards nearby, they would easily be reinforced by any of their brethren sleeping in the barracks just down the hall from where the prisoners were. That sort of close proximity meant that stealth would be absolutely essential if they were going to successfully escape. For Ran, that wasn’t a problem. But his other companions might find it much harder to be quiet and move slowly when all of their instincts screamed at them to run.

  Ran shook the thought out of his head. He hoped they’d have time to properly plan things out. For right now, he contented himself with simply noting as much information as he could about the layout of the dungeon.

  Ahead of them, Ran could see more torches illuminating the way. But then they turned to the left, and the Chekhal warrior led them into a small room before turning to them and saying, “Stay here.”

  Then he walked out and closed another door behind them. Another lock slid into place. This cell was much more cramped than the previous one. Vargul pounded on the door and shouted, but it did no good.

  Ran glanced around the cell. There was nothing here. Kancho came up next to him. “What do you think?”

  Ran shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think we’re going to be here all that long. It doesn’t look like a holding cell. It’s too . . . temporary.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “No toilet, for one thing,” said Ran. “If we were meant to be here for long, they would at least have a hole in the ground.”

  “Perhaps they intend to kill us within the next few minutes and there’s no need for a toilet.”

  “Good point,” said Ran. “Either way, this isn’t where we’re going to stay.”

  Kancho sighed. “I hope you’re right. The bunks along the wall back there didn’t give me much hope about escaping.”

  “Perhaps,” said Ran. “But it might also be another tactic that Kan-Gul uses to intimidate his guests. Show them something that sinks their morale when the reality is far less than the illusion.”

  “I don’t follow your thinking.”

  “Kan-Gul seemed intent on making an impression from the moment his warriors took us inside the castle. But it might just be to make us think he’s more powerful than he might be. His warriors are reanimated from the dead. They have no souls. Does it make sense that they would need a barracks? Why would they even care about such things? They’re dead, after all.”

  “Maybe we don’t know all there is to know about the undead. Perhaps they like having a comfortable bed each night after they’re done doing whatever it is they do.”

  Ran grinned. “You could be right. If that’s the case then all we need to do is tempt them with downy pillows and we should be able to walk right out of here.”

  “Something tells me it’s nothing as simple as that.”

  “Agreed,” said Ran. He nodded toward the others in the cell. “How are they all holding up?”

  “Fair, given the situation,” said Kancho. “But Vargul seems to be the most unstable. He hasn’t shut up since we got here. Claims that the Chekhal told him they were going to suck his very soul out through his marrow.”

  “That must have had quite an effect on him.”

  “He’s not a warrior, that one,” said Kancho. “All he knows are the pleasures of the money he hoards. He’s never known the thrill of combat or the idle talk that can infect a spirit during times of stress.”

  Ran sighed. “We have a formidable task ahead of us. You, Neviah, and I are the only trained warriors here. There are an awful lot of Chekhal to deal with, and I’m not even sure they can be stopped.”

  “If we can get our swords back, I’ll find out just how unstoppable they are. But without our weapons . . .” Kancho’s voice trailed off.

  Ran agreed. If they couldn’t locate their missing arms, there was little point in trying to fight. Their only other option would be to simply flee the castle and hope to find a way to get free of the lands that surrounded them. Ran thought about the beasts that had herded them toward the castle. Facing those things without weapons would prove nearly impossible.

  But he would tell Kancho about that particular problem later. No sense getting worked up over it before they had to face them. Better to keep him focused on the task at hand: escaping and locating their weapons.

  They heard another key in the lock and turned in unison. The door swung open, and Kan-Gul appeared in the doorway. “How is everyone doing? Are you all well? Have you been enjoying my hospitality?”

  Vargul launched himself at Kan-Gul, but the sorcerer merely held up a hand and it was as if Vargul had slammed into some sort of wall. He stumbled back, dazed and confused.

  Kan-Gul sighed. “There is always one unruly guest at any party. Tragically, the best thing seems to be to get rid of them
rather than have to endure their rude and boorish behavior any longer than absolutely necessary.” He stepped back into the passageway and nodded. Two Chekhal warriors came in and dragged the stunned Vargul out of the cell. The door slammed shut behind them.

  Ran moved to the door. “What are you going to do with him?”

  Kan-Gul’s voice floated back in response. “Have no worries, Ran of Gakur. You will see soon enough.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A few minutes later, the door of the cell reopened. This time, four Chekhal warriors waited for them in the passageway. Filled with uncertainty, Ran stepped out of the cell. He guessed that Vargul had been killed already and that the presence of four Chekhal couldn’t mean good things for them. He reflected briefly on whether or not the decision to come to Kan-Gul’s fortress had been a wise one, but then realized they hadn’t had much choice in the matter—only the illusion of choice. He frowned. Kan-Gul was certainly better at subtly manipulating events than doing it overtly. That would bear remembering if he had any hope of getting out of this place alive.

  He wondered whether other Shinobujin who had been dispatched on shugyo had found themselves in similar situations. His elders back at the school had noted that Ran, for all his skill, was inexperienced in the ways of the world. A shugyo was usually deemed the best way to see who had the tenacity and ability to survive beyond the protection of the school’s walls.

  So far, thought Ran, I don’t think they’d be too pleased with my performance.

  He followed the lead Chekhal warrior around a bend in the passageway that led them up along a spiral path that eventually deposited them into a balcony overlooking a wide-open, high-walled pit.

  Vargul stood in the center of the pit, still looking as dazed and confused as he had been immediately after Kan-Gul had stopped him in the cell.

  Kan-Gul stood in the balcony and turned to the travelers as they filed in. “Welcome, my friends, welcome. Please seat yourselves. The festivities are about to begin.”

  “Now we’re friends?” whispered Kancho to Ran as they sat down in the stone chairs.