“This is where we first met,” he observed aloud.
“I know,” she replied with a bit of a blush. “It was only a few weeks ago. It's not exactly the kind of thing you forget.”
“It's certainly something I never will,” he replied with a wide grin.
After this assertion, the young man allowed their brief conversation to come to an end. The band was riding through the heart of enemy territory. It was hardly the time and place to talk, much less flirt. If they survived, they would have plenty of time for that later on. If they didn't, none of it would matter anyway. Fortunately, they didn't have much farther to go. Before long, they would either be safe or dead. Whichever the case, they would probably be free to chat at that point.
The moment the well appeared on the horizon, Myra brought the party to a halt. The former lich moved her horse as close as she could to Paul's and began chanting words of mystical power. She then threw her hand out in his direction; bringing her spell to an end. With a self-contented smile, she moved on to Sarrac's side and began chanting again.
“Is that it?” Joey asked, gazing at Paul from under a single raised eyebrow.
“I guess,” the young man replied, glancing down at himself.
“Well, you don't look like undead,” his friend said, pointing out the blindingly obvious.
“No, you don't,” Darek agreed.
“Of course he doesn't!” Nyssa asserted. “You're not undead!”
“What do you mean?” Joey asked.
“I mean; you aren't undead,” she replied. “That is to say: none of us are.”
“Believe it or not, I'd actually noticed that.”
“Then, why did you ask?”
“I didn't...” Joey slowly replied.
“You did!” the fairy insisted.
“What did I ask?”
“What do you mean?” she said, rolling her eyes.
“What do you mean: what do I mean?”
“I said: what do you mean?”
“What?”
“Nyssa is trying to explain,” Myra asserted the moment her second spell came to an end, “that you don't see Paul as undead because you aren't undead.”
“No, I'm not!” the fairy rebutted.
“What do you mean?” the fair maiden asked.
“I mean,” Nyssa replied, “I'm not trying to explain that. I am explaining it! They're trying to understand it. Well... I guess they are... It's actually kind of hard to tell considering how poorly they're doing.”
“So, Paul doesn't look like undead to me because I'm not undead?” Joey asked.
“I stand corrected,” the fairy said with a slow nod. “They were trying to understand, after all. Joey even managed to do it. Well done! You're smarter than I thought you were. It's a pity you're not as smart as you are attractive. Still, I guess you can't have everything...”
“In my experience,” Joey chuckled, “beauty and intelligence rarely run hand in hand.”
“What?!” all three ladies snapped.
“I meant back on Earth!” he instantly replied, doing his best to deflect their quickly rising wrath.
Fortunately for him, the young women didn't have time to demand a better explanation. The party needed to reach the fairy well as quickly as possible and the ladies couldn't risk attracting the attention of any nearby undead patrols by pointing out that he was an idiot at the top of their lungs. As a result, the conversation was brought to an immediate close and the remaining members of the band were quickly enchanted by Myra's magic - with the exception of Nyssa, who simply made herself invisible.
As the party drew nearer the well, Paul was surprised to see the size of the army that surrounded it. Lord Grathis was clearly determined not to allow his foes to reach that place of peace if at all possible. Hundreds of undead guarded what seemed to be an island of life rising from the bare, dead rock that surrounded it. Skeletal sentries stood silent and still, while mounted monsters moved along the outskirts of the camp. The young man couldn't see how, even if their enemies thought they were undead, they were going to break through the ranks of the dead to reach the land of the living that lay beyond them. Fortunately, other members of the band were better prepared for what they were about to encounter.
“Let me do the talking,” Darek said quietly, as a number of riders quickly approached them.
“That's not gonna be a problem,” Paul chuckled. “I'm not much of a conversationalist when it comes to talking to the dead.”
“Funny.”
“Halt!” a large ghast sitting atop a black horse demanded the moment they were within earshot. “Who are you and where are you headed?”
Close to twenty other undead riders brought their mounts to a halt a short distance behind the speaker; their weapons at the ready.
“I'm Captain Lonnoc,” Darek almost snarled. “We're headed here. Which is fairly obvious, as there's no other destination worth heading for within fifty miles.”
“Then, I'll confine my questions to more obscure subjects,” the ghast said with a condescending tone. “For instance, what is it that brings you here?”
“Orders. What else would bring us to this gods-forsaken place?”
“I don't think I care for your tone. Of course, cutting your tongue out might alter it.”
“It might,” Darek agreed. “But, I'm rather certain Lord Casslan wouldn't appreciate that. Especially after I explained to him that you were the one who did it. Even if I had to write it down for him.”
At this, the ghast laughed loudly.
“I suppose you have a copy of your orders?” he smiled.
“If I don't?”
“That might prove very unfortunate. At least, for you and your men.”
“Well, I do,” Darek replied, pulling a scroll from one of his saddle bags and handing it to the ghast. “I'd have been a fool to ride all this way without them, wouldn't I?”
“We don't really need you,” the ghast said thoughtfully, gazing carefully over the scroll. “Still, orders are orders. I suppose it's a gesture, even if it is a pathetic one.”
“Pathetic to you perhaps, but who knows if Lord Grathis will see it in the same light.”
“True,” the ghast ceded. “Either way, Captain Lonnoc, you and your men are welcome. Make your way into camp and setup wherever you can find room. As I said, I doubt we'll need you, but who knows. If the it decides to attack, I certainly won't object to having a few more bodies between me and him.”
“Certainly not,” Darek laughed.
“Once you're settled in, report to General Kass. He's in command here.”
“Yes, sir,” Darek said with a salute, before kicking his horse into motion.
The rest of the party immediately followed his example, pointing their beasts in the direction of the nearby camp and the fairy well it surrounded.
“So, what do we do?” Paul asked the moment they were out of their enemies' earshot.
“Find a place to look like we're setting up camp and then make a break for the well,” Darek replied.
“As simple as that, eh?”
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“Nope,” the young man admitted. “But, I'll keep thinking.”
“Well, let me know if you come up with anything.”
“Sure thing...”
The party was soon riding through the very heart of the enemy camp. An unnatural hush seemed to fill the area, but this was hardly surprising considering that most of the undead warriors that made up the garrison were fleshless skeletons or mindless zombies - neither of which were capable of speech. Here and there, however, ghouls and ghasts could be heard speaking from within the jet black tents that dotted the surrounding landscape. The harsh voices and hideous laughter of these undead officers shattered the surrounding silence; rendering the scene somehow even more sinister.
The well itself stood in stark contrast to the lands that surrounded it. Thick, lush grass grew on the far side of the invisible line defining the borde
r of the holy island. The leaf covered boughs of the fruit laden trees that filled the little glade swayed in a gentle breeze as golden sunlight bathed the scene from the heavens above. It was the very image of verdant tranquility; a picture of life setting at defiance the death that perpetually encompassed it.
Paul gazed ahead with a slight smile. A few hundred yards was all that stood between them and their first goal. Of course, it was hundreds of yards of undead soldiers but, Myra's spell was working like a charm, so to speak. More than likely, they would simply be able to ride up to the edge of the camp and then make a mad dash for it. All things considered, it looked like it was going to be far easier than he had hoped.
For one thing, the undead seemed as loathe to approach the well as he and his companions were longing to reach it. Several hundred feet of empty ground stood between the very outskirts of their camp and the little island of life. Even the falauk that circled above seemed to avoid flying directly over the area.
Of course, this fact didn't really surprise the young man. Alena had once told him that any undead that touched the well's consecrated ground would immediately burst into flame. Whatever holy power filled the area was even capable of keeping the gray mist that hung over the dark lands at bay. As a result, it was a place the undead did their very best to avoid. Which obviously made it one of the safest places left in Zanoth. It was a destination he and his companions were quickly approaching.
“This'll do,” Darek said loudly, bringing his mount to a stop.
“What are we doing?” Paul asked softly, following his friend's example and sliding from the saddle.
“We want to draw as little attention as possible,” Darek pointed out, stepping over and wrapping his horse's reigns around a nearby post. “All of us riding to the edge of camp might look just a tad conspicuous. We're a lot less likely to get noticed if we take our time and meander slowly over toward the well.”
“I can see that, I guess,” Joey agreed. “But then how are we going to get the horses back?”
“That's simple,” Darek replied. “We aren't.”
“So, we're just gonna leave 'em here to get eaten by undead?”
“Undead rarely eat horses,” Myra replied.
“True,” Alena nodded. “They prefer to eat people.”
“Wonderful,” Joey said, shaking his head. “But, aren't we gonna need them?”
“Not if our plan works,” Darek asserted. “We won't be riding again until after we leave Kafmara. Since we can get more horses there, we won't be needing these.”
“Sounds perfect,” Paul smiled. “Let's get to meandering.”
And, meander they did. Darek led the party on an ambling, circuitous journey that brought them ever nearer the inner edge of the undead camp. As they passed slowly along, something caught Joey's attention.
“Correct me if I'm wrong, bro,” he said, nodding at a heap of corpses that lay in a ghastly, grotesque pile, “but those are human bodies, aren't they?”
“They are,” Paul said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
“And, they're here because the undead eat dead people?”
“Yes,” was Sarrac's simple reply.
“And, they'd eat us if they got the chance?” Joey asked quietly.
“Of course,” Alena replied with almost half a laugh.
“I see...” he said slowly. “Well, that brings another question to mind.”
“What's that?” Paul asked.
“How long does this spell last, Myra?”
“What makes you ask that?” the fair former lich replied.
“Well,” Joey said, nodding quickly as he spoke, “in those stupid MMO games Paul made me play, spells like this look like undead thing only lasted for a certain amount of time. So, I thought the same might be true in Zanoth.”
“It is,” she admitted.
“I see...” he said again. “So, how long do we have?”
“I'm not sure,” she confessed.
“I see...” he replied once more, visibly quickening his pace. “Why not?”
“I've never used it before,” she pointed out. “This is a new spell.”
“I see...” he said, speeding up even more.
“Slow down, bro,” Paul demanded quietly.
“No thanks,” Joey said, once again increasing his pace and glancing at his friend over his shoulder. “There is no way I'm gonna get caught in the middle of...”
Joey's thought was interrupted as he took his next step. A blast of black light shot up from the ground beneath him, wrapping his body in dark energy. He screamed out in agony before collapsing senseless to the ground. Instantly, the sound of bellowing undead filled the air.
Sarrac leapt forward, lifting Joey's unconscious form from the ground and throwing it over his shoulder as his companions readied their weapons. Ghouls and ghasts poured from the surrounding tents, screaming out orders to the swarms of skeletons and zombies that filled the camp. In mere seconds, a wall of enemies began forming between the party and the destination they sought so desperately to reach.
Paul and Alena charged toward the edge of the fairy well, lashing out at the seemingly numberless undead that stood between them and their goal, while Myra caused many of the enemies who were quickly surrounding them to attack one another. Nyssa covered their approaching foes in fire, as Darek served as the rear guard of the party; striding backwards, his flashing blades keeping their mindless enemies temporarily at bay.
As the distance that separated the party from the island of life quickly decreased, Paul realized it would be nearly impossible for them to defeat the countless adversaries that stood between them and the haven they sought. He raised his shield hand to his chest, firmly taking hold of the holy symbol that hung around his neck and held it out toward the undead enemies before them.
“Drop dead!” he cried, his voice filled with grim determination.
Golden light erupted from the symbol in his outstretched hand, enveloping the foes that surrounded them. Skeletons and zombies were burned instantly to dust, while many of the ghouls and ghasts facing the paladin and his companions screamed in terror before fleeing the scene of conflict as quickly as possible. For a fleeting moment, the divine power that Paul wielded opened a clear passage between the band and their goal.
Just seconds later, however, this passage was once again obstructed. A massive skeleton, wielding a giant two-handed sword, quickly took up a position to keep the companions from reaching their goal. Although most of the creature's body was covered in dark metal armor etched with runes, the boney hands with which it grasped its blade were uncovered, as was its fleshless face. The points of red light that served as the monster's eyes stared out from under an open faced helm ornamented with two long metal horns. As this undead horror readied its weapon, the blade burst into blue flames.
“What is that?!” Paul instantly exclaimed.
“If I had to guess,” Sarrac yelled above the din, “I'd say it was General Kass!”
“It is,” Myra cried, glancing back over her shoulder at the monstrosity. “And, that's rather unfortunate.”
“Alena, take him,” Sarrac said, handing the ogress Joey's unconscious form.
Immediately, she did as she was asked. Sarrac then drew his sword and charged toward the monster blocking their path. Paul instantly followed his ally's example and, moments later, the three combatants fell together in a whirlwind of blades.
The young man was surprised - both by their opponent's skill and strength. The monster deftly blocked the incoming blows of both he and his companion and returned their attacks with strikes that made his arms almost scream in agony. The creature stood head and shoulders above Sarrac and, more than once, it was able to knock the ogre almost off balance with its thunderous attacks. Under the circumstances, there seemed only one logical recourse.
“Drop dead!” the young man cried, once again holding the holy symbol aloft.
For a second time, the battlefield was bathed in golden lig
ht and the paladin's enemies fled in terror or burned to ash. The general, however, only screamed in defiance; his deep, throat-less voice seeming to shake the very ground upon which they stood. Without the slightest pause, he continued his attacks against the valiant ogre.
Sarrac stepped slowly around his foe as their blades clashed together. The ogre managed to move several feet closer to the fairy well before the general maneuvered once again between the party and their destination. Having failed to turn the monster, Paul once again rushed to the aid of his ally; lashing out at the undead warrior.
General Kass instantly turned his attention to the paladin. He knocked Paul's blade to the side, lifted his weapon, and dropped it at the young man's skull. Paul managed to sidestep the blow, which struck him on the shoulder; driving him to his knees. The blue fire that sprang from the general's blade engulfed the right side of the young man's face, burning his flesh with unquenchable cold.
“Die!” Myra screamed as the general drew back for a second blow.
Black energy shot from the head of her staff, striking the general in the chest. In response, he only laughed.
“Come, Myra,” he said. “You didn't truly believe that would harm me, did you?”
“Not really,” the fair maiden replied. “But, it did distract you.”
As soon as she said this, Sarrac attacked the creature from behind. However, this did little more than knock him temporarily off balance. The general quickly regained his footing and renewed his attacks against the powerful ogre.
Paul climbed to his feet as Darek closed in on the massive monster; doing his best to attract its attention. During this time, Nyssa was using her flames to keep a sea of other undead from completely surrounding them. The young man decided he had no choice but to make another attempt. He moved as close to the undead general as he dared and, once again, tried to turn the creature of darkness.
The Fortress of Donmar (The Tales of Zanoth Book 2) Page 7