The Melaki Chronicle

by William Thrash

  “My first gems,” said Neret. He was breathless. He snapped the lid shut in triumph.

  Tila poked her husband and indicated Melaki.

  His face fell. “Oh. Yes.” He opened the lid and selected a tiny trinket. “Please, accept this as appreciation.”

  Melaki took it without blinking and gave the man a nod. “My thanks to you.”

  Neret grunted. “Yes, well, there are more gems to be found.” He was waving his arms to usher everyone out of the house.

  * * *

  Melaki shrugged. “I suppose you are right.”

  Neret nudged his wife. “There, see? We should not leave any pockets of undead in town. How could we sleep knowing they were lurking?”

  Tila looked up at the darkening sky.

  They stood outside the ruined temple, the door a gaping maw. Melaki's blue light was required to see anything in the deepening gloom.

  “I sense it underneath. There must be a tomb system underneath the sanctuary.”

  “Let us go kill it and be done with it,” Neret said. He patted the satchel that contained the two boxes. He was already a wealthy man and yet he still wanted more.

  Melaki could see in his eyes that his ambitions stretched far beyond merely pacifying an area as required in the charter. He wanted to branch out beyond his stake and snatch up as many gems as he could before the Second Charter arrived. Melaki was certainly not going to help him pursue that goal. He was already weary helping them as much as he had.

  Neret was already charging in. “Bring your light, wizard.”

  Tila looked up at him, weariness in her eyes, and a longing for something better.

  “Arranged marriage?” he said.

  She sighed, tears welling in her eyes.

  He did not wait for an answer. He followed the brash man in and brought his light. The moving illumination pulled Tila along behind.

  Neret let Melaki move ahead. The altar was gone, probably having been made of wood and rotted or burned without maintenance and without a roof. In its place, underneath where it would be, were crude stone steps leading down. Sconces lined the walls, but were long unlit. At the bottom, a wide area of ossuaries and crypt doors indicated the once important or wealthy were interred here. A crudely formed passage went deeper in. This tunnel had hewn shelves stacked with old bones.

  The rattle of skeletons ahead told them they were near.

  Neret pushed Melaki faster. “Yes, more.”

  “Easy, Neret. Easy.” Pushed into the tomb area by the anxious man, he was distracted by the rush of skeletons.

  Neret rushed past, towards an illuminated figure sitting on a throne. It had the head of a snake or lizard, Melaki could not tell which. The throne sat over a pile of bones.

  How did it get a throne down here?

  Then he realized Neret had dodged the skeletons and was rushing the thing. “No! Get back!”

  The man paid no heed.

  Beset on all sides by reaching bony hands, Melaki and Tila battled the skeletons. Tila chopped with her sword and smashed with her buckler. She was competent and dropped four of them. He patterned forced and drove it sideways through two at a time. There were too many. He needed Neret back here fending off skeletons while he killed the snake-thing on the throne. That would drop all the skeletons upon its death. “Neret!”

  The man was not listening.

  The snake-thing hissed, it's tongue flicking out. A stretch of its hand lifted Neret into the air a full five paces out of reach. The man never even reached it.

  Desperately, Melaki patterned force and just pushed outward. It was far easier to move them back and give himself a couple seconds of breathing room. He growled and formed an attack pattern in his mind against the thing on the throne as fast and as powerful as he could.

  He was too late.

  Neret's neck snapped, his head flopping to the side and his feet kicking wildly.

  Too late. He threw his attack and the thing, occupied with Neret's body, exploded in a spray of gore.

  The skeletons dropped.

  Tila wailed out in horror and ran to the crumpled body of her husband.

  * * *

  “Are you sure you want to come back with me?” Melaki said. He sat beside Tila. They sat together next to a warm fire in the home where they had secured the horses.

  Her husband freshly buried, the woman fought back tears. “I have nothing here. It is empty to me.”

  “Your stake--”

  “Was his. I was told a single person held stake and could bring along one partner. But the partner has no claim to the stake.”

  He grunted. He had not asked Talin about the rights of the First Charter. Talin had received the charter and Talin had made the stake. If it was the same for Tila and dead Neret, then she held nothing but gems. “You could always go back and restake the claim.”

  “I am not of the First Charter. I would have to apply at the Imperial Court to get on a charter to stake a claim.”

  He groaned. That sounded like the empire. Her husband's stake would be open to anyone in succeeding charters. Tolam's Ford, being pacified, was a good base for operations inside Kellerran. While she could keep her share of the gems as afforded by her husband's charter agreement, it was little consolation. At least she would be wealthy. “Will you be alright?”

  “He was not a very nice man, but he was my husband.”

  “Sorrow, lady.”

  She wept again, quietly.

  Melaki figured she must have had much practice at it being married to Neret. “Come then. It is a short ride to Soam's Crossing and more comfortable there.”

  She nodded and they began preparing for the ride.

  As they rode out of Tolam's Ford, he said, “Will you be leaving the Northlands?”

  “I do not know. I do not want to return to the mainland and face the shame of defeat before my family. They invested much to marry me to Neret.”

  “What will you do?”

  “Stay here, I suppose. I can be of help to you.”

  “Me?”

  “I do not want to be alone.” Her voice quavered.

  His leading light splashed back towards them and pulled blue and black shadows from her face.

  “But me? Why not another stakeholder? I hold nothing.”

  “I did not come for a stake. I came to support my husband. You have been kind – more kind than any other I have known. I would help you, not another pig who would use me as a pack animal.”

  Melaki was silent to that.

  “Let me aid you in what you do.”

  “An extra hand is welcome, Tila. Do not worry that I will cast you out alone.”

  She sobbed. “My thanks to you.”

  * * *

  “That building there.” Melaki pointed. They looked at the manor house.

  The tavern he had helped Talin secure would remain Talin's. The wizard did not want his stake at Soam's to be anything other than a stepping stone to a town or even Kellerran itself.

  “Stables,” Tila said. “A garden plot there. Two stories, made of stone. I think you picked the best building in the village.”

  He shrugged. “I do not know how much longer I will be here. I might as well have a comfortable place.”

  “What are your plans, anyway?”

  He sighed. “I do not know, but I do not think they will have anything to do with the Altanlean Empire.”

  “Why so?”

  “I am not Altanlean.”

  “I did not think you were, but why would that--”

  “I have no love for the empire.”

  “Oh? Despite you wearing the most prestigious of robes--”

  “These are nothing.”

  She cocked her head at him. “How can you say that? Your braid tells me you are ninth or tenth--”

  “Ninth ward.”

  “That is still an impressive accomplishment.”

  “It really was not and I am not all that good at what I earned.”

  “But you earned it.”<
br />
  How could he tell her the truth? Would she understand? He did not manipulate magic as he was supposed to. “My magic is weaker and I can not hold it for very long. I tire faster than others of my rank.”

  She squinted at him. “So?”

  “So, I wish to leave. I want to take my instruction and--”

  “And go where? The lands of the savages?”

  “Do I look like a savage to you?”

  “Yes. I mean, no. Except that you look like them.”

  He chuckled. “What if they are not savages? What if they were all like me?”

  “But we are told by the imperial--”

  “What you are told is often carefully prepared to elicit a certain reaction.”

  “What?” she said. “Why would they lie to us?”

  “Political gain. Money. Wealth. Power. Do you really imagine those things do not corrupt?”

  She frowned.

  They walked into the manor house. It was clean and fairly well-kept throughout.

  “I can fix that jamb,” she said.

  “You?”

  “I know some carpentry.”

  “You?”

  Tila stood her full height and looked up at him. Her chin jutted up in defiance. “Yes. I was taught.” The blaze in her eyes dared him to challenge her.

  “Peace, woman.” He held up his hands. “You fix the door, then.”

  She gave a curt nod and left to go find tools. Plenty of implements of normal living lay where they were left when the village was conquered.

  * * *

  Melaki closed his book of notes. Diagrams of patterns he suspected might work were folded into the leather binding and placed onto the shelf in his study. He was intrigued by the similarity in the imperial usage of spirits and the demons he had fought.

  He pointed to his light and detached it, causing it to follow.

  Tila was sitting in a chair by the fire, reading. She had taken the books from what became his study. He did not want them in there.

  She watched him pass in the room.

  He climbed the stairs and entered his bedroom. It was warm up here, the heat from the fireplace rising in the house to make the three rooms upstairs comfortable. He pulled off his robe and then his breeches. Dressed in his shirt and small-clothes, he settled into bed.

  He listed in his mind tasks for himself. He would have made a summoning for pigs or sheep, but he needed either a pen for the pigs or to make sure the surrounding lands were pacified for sheep. If he penned pigs, there was nothing to feed them. Maybe chickens would be better. Start small.

  He was drifting to sleep when Tila opened his door.

  He bolted up, forming a force pattern in his mind. Undead? He patterned a light as he finished his force magic. But he saw her and released the force pattern.

  She was wrapped securely in a blanket. She said nothing and did not move, except to wrap the blanket tighter.

  Melaki said nothing, either. Was she naked under the blanket? Wanting something? It did not look like she did. She rather had a look of fear. He moved to the edge of the bed and lifted back his blanket, exposing a spot for her.

  She came the the bed and laid down next to him, still tightly wrapped in her blanket. She let him cover her.

  He released the light and they slept.

  CHAPTER 6

  Melaki poured hot water from the kettle into the tub.

  The well outside had been clean and he had expended some strenuous magic to fill the cistern attached to the manor house. Up and down went the bucket, but fast.

  He thought about the irrigation aqueducts of the Altanlean Empire, but much material would be needed and more digging. But if he could run a duct from a higher point on the creek by the town, he could fill the cistern without having to use magic.

  What would I do though once I filled it? The duct would still pour water. He scratched his head. Those were enough thoughts on water. He was going to enjoy his daily bath. He would repeat the process for Tila right after. They used the third room upstairs as a washroom.

  She did not use her room much, sleeping next to him at night for a sense of comfort. He had not so much as seen her bare elbow. Not that it mattered.

  But he had grown accustomed to hearing her breathing and the warmth of her body next to his even as tightly wrapped as she cocooned herself in her blanket.

  Soam's Crossing was pacified. He had seen no undead nearby nor sensed them at any close distance. Something still fluttered at the edge of his senses to the north. Kellerran.

  Finishing his bath, he brushed his robe and then donned it. He brushed his hair and scrubbed his teeth.

  Hefting the tub, he dumped the water out the window. Then he set about refilling it with warm water for Tila.

  “Your bath is ready,” he said to her. He shut the bedroom door and let her get up. She was modest, showing him nothing more than her neck.

  He descended the stairs and set about making coffee and preparing a meager breakfast. Neret and Tila's stores had added to what little they had. He put out an apple each for them and a small slice of cheese. Food would have been a problem if they had not discussed it a few days before.

  He heard the rush of water falling to the cracked, paved gutter outside. She came down a minute later, dressed and refreshed. He handed her a cup of bad coffee. He took the brush from her other hand and she sat by the fire to sip her drink. He brushed her wet hair. It was long, wavy, and very thick.

  She sighed contentedly.

  “Tired of our bad coffee already?”

  “Hmm? This? Oh, I suppose I have had better.”

  He ran his fingers through the black silk of her hair. Then the brush. Satisfied all the tangles were removed, he handed her the brush. “All ready for you.”

  “My thanks to you, wizard.” She set about braiding her hair in deft twists and moves.

  “Talin should return tomorrow,” he said.

  “Will I be a problem to him?”

  “I do not believe so. But he is an arrogant man, much in the vein of your late husband – and moreso.”

  “So he might find a reason to disapprove.” Her shoulders slumped a little.

  “Indeed. But I will remind him that he had wanted cooperation to pursue his stake.”

  “Yes, I remember him telling us how much better it would all be if we gave up our intentions to stake a claim and just helped him.”

  Melaki laughed. “As if anyone on the First Charter would be crazy enough to do such a thing.”

  “That's what my husband said.”

  He fell silent.

  It was a subject raw and potentially hazardous to the dryness of her cheeks.

  Outside was another day. Waters moved slowly overhead, undulating, casting light in moving patterns. When would his vision of falling rocks come about?

  He used summoning control to move the chickens into the repaired coop. He sensed toward his pattern drawn into the ground. The sheep were still there and his pattern still working. It was not perfect; the pattern had to be refreshed twice a day. He had decided to try a pattern drawn into the land to see if it would hold the animals loosely together – without his concentration. It worked, but weakened over time. He did not have time to experiment with that magic and kept his pattern out of sight of Tila. Best not to have too many questions. He would need to erase them before Talin returned. Just a glance would indicate a different magic and then the wizard would not stop until he knew everything.

  Five chickens. Three were roosters. It was a start. Provide them with a little care and protection and the two hens would start laying eggs.

  “Melaki,” Tila called.

  “Here, woman.” He shut the door to the coop and the small fenced area. He would let them out again later. They needed to get used to the coop as their home.

  “Visitors.”

  He straightened. But there was no panic in her voice. Not undead, then. He walked around the building and into the center square. They had buried the charred bones their
first day back from Tolam's Ford.

  A merchant and his wife were there, horse and cart with them. The cost of bringing such an animal from the mainland must have been exorbitant. The man was tall and angular, clean shaven. He bore a large sword on his back that looked too heavy to lift. His wife was a frail-looking woman with stray strands of gray floating about her pretty face.

  “I am Gramm, merchant of the CoinMasters Guild.”

  Melaki raised his eyebrows. A prestigious position, indeed. He wondered why the man had not been in the First Charter. Anyone could be a merchant. Only the best were elected into the guild.

  “I am Melaki and this is Tila.”

  His horse nickered from the stable.

  The merchant bowed his head. “This is my wife Bena.”

  The woman peered at them intently, a frown on her face. “I did not know wizards married.”

  “They do not,” Melaki said.

  “Oh? I see she has the marriage necklace--”

  “She is not my wife.” He sighed.

  “My husband is dead, eleven days gone now.” Tila's voice quavered a little.

  Just too raw a subject for her.

  “Oh, my dear,” said Bena. “You have my sorrow.”

  “Life it what it is,” said Tila, repeating typical Altanlean instruction in school.

  “What goods have you?” Melaki changed the subject.

  The smile that lit the angular face was bright and crinkled the eyes. “The finest Altanlean tobacco.”

  He looked at Tila. “Neither of us indulge in the pipe.”

  Gramm was not immediately dissuaded. Smiling brighter, he pulled a pouch from the cart. Holding it open he slowly passed it close to Melaki's face, and then Tila's.

  The aroma was at once fantastic and alluring. Melaki sensed to see if magic was at work, but there was none. His mind filled with sensations of leather, walnut, rum, and honey. No magic, just a very fine product. “That is an amazing--”

  “It is very relaxing, to pipe this when sitting under a tree or by a fire at night” Gramm was still smiling, happy to even just talk about his wares.

  “I am tempted to try it,” Melaki said. “But I have no pipe.”