On their backs were the real nightmares. Huge warriors wearing black armor. Ripples in the air around them made Simon think that they were giving off heat but then he noticed that the ground beneath the horses was white with frost. The armored figures were surrounded by bitter cold.
Their faces were hidden inside heavy helms but, like their steeds, their eyes blazed with the flames of hell. In life, the warriors must have each been nearly as large as Malcolm was. In death, they were wearing armor and sporting two-handed weapons that not even that big man could have used.
“Death knights? Seriously?”
“I do not know that term, master,” Kronk called to him, obviously hearing Simon mutter to himself.
“Just something I read about in one of my books,” the wizard replied. “It kind of describes these guys. Undead warriors who feel no pain and attack relentlessly. Unfortunately they can only be harmed with blessed weapons.”
“What should we do, master?”
The ominous figures sat like statues atop their restless steeds, watching Simon in silence. They were no more than twenty yards away, but the wizard calculated that it would take them a few seconds to begin a charge. It might just be enough time.
“Okay folks,” Simon said as quietly as he could, hoping that all the earthen could hear him.
“On the count of three, I want all of you to retreat underground and meet up back inside the wall. All right?”
“But master, what about you?”
“I'm going to slam the gate closed and lock it. Once I've done that, the wards will kick in and the undead will be blocked. I hope.”
“Master, you can't...”
“No discussion please. Here we go.”
Simon slowly bent down and left his staff on the ground, trying not to make any sudden moves. He would need both hands to close and bolt the two halves of the gate.
“On three. One...two...”
He jumped toward the left side of the gate.
“Three!”
The earthen slipped into the ground in the blink of an eye. At the same time, the four death knights spurred their hideous mounts forward, the huge steeds slipping and digging at the frozen ground beneath them.
Just what I was hoping for, Simon thought as he frantically slammed one side of the gate closed and leaped across to the other one.
He pulled the heavy portal over and feverishly slid one of the thick iron bolts into place. There was a flash of blue light as the wards engaged and from beyond the sealed gate, he heard a bellow of rage. It had been close, damned close.
Simon finished locking the gate, pushing the last bolt downward into the housing buried beneath the archway. He picked up his staff, wiped off his forehead and moved back into the yard.
A trembling in the grass made him jump as Kronk and the other earthen erupted from the ground a few feet away.
“It worked, master!” the earthen said with relief.
The wizard slipped Mortis de Draconis over his shoulder and smiled weakly.
“Barely. Come on, let's see what those things are doing out there.”
Simon hurried toward a ladder leading up to the parapet that ran around the inside of the wall and climbed up, trying not to trip on his robe. Atop the parapet, he walked over to stand next to the gate and gazed outward.
The four death knights had vanished. The fog was receding at a rapid pace and all that was left of the battle were bits and pieces of bone and greenish flesh.
“Well, they gave up rather quickly, didn't they?” he asked Kronk, who had hopped up to stand on the top of the wall.
“Yes master, they did. It is disturbing. Why go to the trouble of arranging this battle to give up so easily?”
The fog had rolled back about halfway across the field now and Simon suddenly saw something revealed by the dissipating mist.
“Whoa, whoa,” he said. “I think I spoke too soon.”
It was a man. Maybe.
A figure robed in black and hooded so that its face was concealed stood in the center of the field. It was holding a twisted staff that blazed with crimson runes. Its robe was also edged with blood red writing that Simon couldn't read. The person's posture was one of pure menace.
“Wizard, can you hear me from where you are hiding?'
The voice that spoke was no louder than that of a whisper and yet Simon could hear it clearly. It was definitely a man's voice.
“I'm not hiding,” he said and moved to stand exposed directly above the gate.
“What was all of that about?” he asked loudly. “I assume that you are the one who ordered the attack?”
The figure didn't move; Simon could have been staring at a statue for all he knew, but the waves of malevolence that the robed man emitted were very real.
“That simple demonstration was not an attack; it was a warning. My masters have informed me that you may be planning to move against me. You would be a fool to try. Go back and live beneath my feet with the dirt-dwellers. Leave this world to me and I shall let you live, for a few more years at least. Attack me however and I will annihilate you and everything that you hold dear.”
The breeze picked up and ruffled Simon's hair. He slipped his staff off of his shoulder and used it to help him maintain his balance. The last thing he wanted was to fall off of the wall now and break his neck.
“If you're so sure that you can defeat us, why are you giving me a chance to live? Surely you'd prefer us to attack so that you can 'annihilate' us quickly?”
The figure still did not move and the whispering menace of his voice remained the same.
“I enjoy playing with my prey before I devour it,” he hissed. “If I destroy you and the last of the humans too quickly, it will not be as entertaining for me. And it would be more convenient to defeat the dirt-dwellers and the last of humanity in one blow. Much more satisfying.”
Simon wracked his brain, trying to think of something brave or clever to say. But he couldn't come up with a thing.
“Who are you?” he blurted out.
“I am the hand of Chaos. You have been warned.”
And with that last statement, the figure wavered and then faded away as if he had never existed.
“Jerk,” Simon muttered.
“Did he Gate away, master?” Kronk asked as he stared blankly at the now-empty field.
“I don't know. It didn't look like it though. There's an implosion of air when someone uses the Gate spell; when their body is transported, the air rushes into the space where they were and makes a loud thump. I didn't hear or see anything like that.”
“That's because he was never here,” Aeris said as he descended from above them.
Simon squinted up at him. The sun had finally made an appearance in all of its glory as the final wisps of fog dissipated and the day was suddenly blindingly bright.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means, my dear wizard, that the image was a projection. I got close enough to him invisibly to get a good look. He was translucent, a bit like me actually, when I got near enough to examine him. Your enemy was never in any danger.”
He sneered in typical Aeris fashion.
“He did not even have enough courage to face you in person. So like a necromancer.”
“Is it? I wouldn't know.”
Simon looked at all of the earthen gathered together and smiled widely.
“Folks, let me thank you all so much for your help this morning. Your quick thinking and willingness to defend the tower saved both me and my home. I don't know what I can do to repay you.”
Kronk glanced at his fellows and they all motioned for him to speak for them.
“No thanks are necessary, master. We were merely doing our duty. My people and I are grateful that you found our efforts satisfactory.”
He bowed and the other elementals copied him. Then they scattered to resume their watch on the outer wall, chatting happily in their deep, guttural language. Apparently they were quite pleased with Simon's gra
titude.
Aeris watched them leave with a little smile on his face.
“What are you grinning at?” the wizard asked him as he gingerly made his way off of the arch and headed for the ladder.
“The earthen. They are so easily pleased, don't you think?”
“You mean they aren't difficult? I find that attitude refreshing. You might try it some time.”
Aeris chortled as he floated down the ladder, following Simon.
“And make your life too easy? You'd get fat and boring, my dear wizard. And we can't have that, now can we?”
“Heaven forbid!” Simon answered sarcastically. “Anyway, what I want to know is; what the hell was that all about? He had to know that the attack would fail. Was he trying to scare me? Was he toying with me? And does it mean he knows that we're going to move against the tower soon?”
“All good questions. Unfortunately I don't have any answers for you. But let us hope that they aren't waiting for you and the rest of us when we attack their stronghold tomorrow night. That would be bad.”
“Now there's an understatement.”
Simon walked back to the front steps and sat down. He stared at the securely-closed gate, frowning in thought.
Aeris flew into his field of view and looked at him somberly.
“What is it?” the wizard asked.
“I just had a thought: why didn't that necromancer bring along a dracolich or two? Those death knights were powerful, surely, but a dracolich could have attacked from above. And you know yourself that unless you strengthen the wards around the tower, aerial attacks against us can be quite effective.”
Simon nodded as he considered the implications of that question.
“Do you think that guy was the man himself? The leader of the undead legions?”
“He called himself the hand of Chaos, my dear wizard. Not a hand of Chaos, but the hand of Chaos. I'd say that's your answer right there.”
“But who is he? Where did he come from? Why is he doing this? The human race are his people. What kind of reward is so great that you would commit genocide to achieve it?”
He shook his head in bewilderment.
“I just don't get it.”
Simon didn't see the fond look that crossed Aeris' face for a moment.
“And that is why you are such a good leader,” he said gently. “You have absolutely no ambition to lead. You have to be dragged kicking and screaming into that role every time it comes up.”
“And that's a good thing?” Simon asked dryly.
“It can be. I read something in your library that stuck with me. It was written by some fellow named Shakespeare and it goes like this: 'Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown'. Well that's you, my dear wizard. And that is exactly opposite to what that person we just ran into is like. I'm guessing that he was a little man who was offered power; power to control, power to rule, power in all of its many aspects.”
Simon stared at the elemental in surprise.
“Wait, you read Shakespeare? That line is from Henry IV, isn't it?”
“It is. And it applies here to that necromancer, but in reverse. His voice fairly dripped with arrogance and self-assurance. If you'd like my guess, for what little it is worth, I would say that the last thing he expects is an attack. I think he was being quite truthful when he says he wants to play with you all first, torment your people and the dwarves before destroying you.”
“Evil bastard,” Simon whispered.
“That he is.”
Aeris began to ascend and the wizard tilted his head back to watch him go.
“I'll be helping Brethia and Orriss keep an eye on things,” he said as his form disappeared into the bright sky. “Just call me if you need me.”
Simon pulled up his knees and rested his chin on them.
“Yeah, I'll do that,” he muttered, already lost in thought.
Chapter 26
Trying to figure out the time difference between his home and northern England was a bit difficult for Simon. Clocks no longer worked and he only had a vague idea of what month it was. Luckily he had Aeris and the day after his encounter with the mysterious necromancer, the wizard Gated to the quiet bay several miles north of Nottinghill Castle.
He arrived with Kronk and Aeris and the three of them looked around the scenic area. The bay was secluded and very peaceful. The ocean could be heard crashing beyond some breakers, but here the water was almost still.
The shoreline was rocky with stubby little trees and spindly bushes growing stubbornly wherever they could get a foothold. It was warm but not hot and the sky was streaked with fast-moving clouds.
Aeris turned to look at the western sky. It was painted with streaks of orange and purple, and the light was dimming quickly.
“Our timing was good,” he said and then glanced around the bay. “But the others are a little late.”
“Perhaps it is we who are early,” Kronk pointed out. “The sun has not set yet.”
“Don't worry about it, guys,” Simon told them. “We're here safely and we aren't late. So let's just be patient, okay?”
He had made sure to check out the location in his mirror before Gating, just in case, and it had been clear of any obvious threats.
The air smelled of salt, with a hint of rotting fish thrown in. Simon leaned on his staff and looked around. He'd never visited the seaside in his previous life and he found everything about it interesting.
“You know, I saw the ocean a few times from the walls of Nottinghill Castle,” he said as he carefully walked down the sloping ground to the edge of the water, “and from the location of the second town of Nottinghill. But I never got that close to it.”
Aeris flew past him and floated just above the surface of the bay. He glanced at the water and shrugged.
“What's the big deal? It's salty water. Not exactly fascinating, is it?”
“You have no poetry in your soul, do you know that?” Simon said with a grin.
He crouched down and dipped his fingers into the cool liquid.
“Great stories have been written about the sea; epic poems, legendary ballads. And you just described it as salty water. Good grief.”
Kronk chortled at Aeris and the air elemental frowned and looked irritably at Simon.
“Well, excuse me for being practical. Seriously though, what use is it to us and in particular, you? You can't drink it, you certainly don't need to sail across it to get around, and you hate fish. Case closed.”
The wizard just rolled his eyes and stood up.
“Never mind,” he said. “Let's concentrate on the job at hand. Now, I wonder where our friends will show up?”
“There, master,” Kronk said as he pointed up the slope to a hill about thirty yards away, the highest point of land around the bay.
“And what makes you say that?” Aeris asked him.
“Just a guess. But it is clear of plants and trees and large enough for the entire group. Plus I would wager that you could see for quite a distance from up there. I believe Tamara would prefer to appear at a place like that.”
Dusting off his robe, Simon nodded in agreement.
“Sounds good. Okay, let's go. Even if they don't show up there, it seems like a good place to take a look around, get the lay of the land.”
“Meet you there,” Aeris said and shot off ahead of them.
“He always needs to be first, master,” Kronk grumbled as he hurried along beside Simon. “He is so competitive.”
“I've noticed. Well, if it makes him happy, let him have his little victories.”
“Yes master,” the little guy said stiffly.
Simon had to smile at Kronk's disapproving tone as they followed Aeris.
At the top of the hill, the trio stopped and looked around. The sun had disappeared, going down in a blaze of red and yellow, and it would be dark very soon.
“They are actually coming, aren't they?” Aeris asked, sounding a bit nervous. “I mean, this isn't a setup or some elaborate jok
e, is it?”
“Tamara doesn't have that much of a sense of humor,” Simon told him as he turned in a slow circle, looking down the hill. “And if we can't trust her and the others, who can we trust?”
“Aeris, that was a silly thing to say,” Kronk chided him. “The humans in Kingstone are our allies and our master's friends.”
“Don't get snippy. It was just a thought.”
The air elemental ascended a few feet over Simon's head and scanned the surrounding country.
“Isn't it quiet though?” he said in a low voice.
He wasn't wrong about that. The breeze that blew in from the ocean was becoming chilly as the sun set and there were no signs of animals of any kind in the rough country around the hill. Not even a seagull could be seen flying along the coast. It was eerie.
“Well, I don't know what would even live around here,” Simon said as he examined the scrub brush and low trees that dotted the landscape. “Not the most hospitable of places, is it?”
“A little desolate, master,” Kronk agreed.
He bent down and ran his hands across the ground.
“The earth here is thin, lacking in nutrients for plants. It would not be a good spot for growing crops, master.”
“We're not here to farm,” Aeris told him impatiently. “We're here to meet up with the others before battle. Where are they?”
Simon adjusted his robe restlessly. He'd chosen to wear plain brown to blend in with the darkness and had tied back his hair to keep it out of his eyes. Mortis de Draconis felt reassuring in his hand and he leaned on it as he waited for Tamara and the rest of the group to appear.
“Oh wait,” he exclaimed suddenly. “Here they come. Move, guys, over to the side of the hill.”
The wizard hurried to vacate the central portion of the rise, to make room for the others, and the elementals followed him.
“How can you know that?” Aeris asked.
“Can't you feel it? That sudden change in air pressure?”
“I feel nothing except the wind from the sea. Are you certain that it isn't just indigestion? You did have dinner before we came.”
The Dragons of Bone and Dust (Tales from the New Earth Book 7) Page 30