“NOW!” Marcus, Ian and Rebekah all moved in unison, as though they’d been doing it for years. In moments, three guards lay on the floor, and Ian was putting his daggers back in their scabbards.
“Boy we’re good.” Marcus retrieved his dagger and frowned.
“Boy we’re lucky, you mean.” Ian could hear the disdain in Marcus’s voice. He never had liked hearing that, but he also knew that the bite in Marcus’s voice wasn’t personal. Sometimes, it wasn’t even aimed at Ian. Marcus was usually angrier with himself. Something told him that this time, he’d stepped over some invisible line.
“Hey, better to be lucky than good, right?” Marcus started down the hallway toward Lacey’s sensor readings and shook his head.
“Don't get cocky. We can’t afford to be sloppy like that. Paladins need to be more precise in their battle tactics. The difference between winning and dying is never luck, Ian.” Ian grew quiet. He resented being told how to fight, but he knew that Marcus knew better. Rebekah clapped him on the shoulder as they walked.
“Don’t take it personal Ian.” She said softly as they began down the corridor.
"How can I not take it personally? He's so flaming critical sometimes." Rebekah watched her peripheral as she spoke.
"He's not being critical Ian. He's being careful. Besides, if you heard what he did in what you said just a minute ago, you'd be careful too." Ian wasn't sure what Rebekah was getting at.
"Hear what?" Rebekah looked him in the eye for the first time all mission.
“Your pride." That sobered Ian up real quick. Of all the things that Marcus had been trying to teach him over the past year and a half, avoiding pride was the biggest one. Ian didn’t understand all the reasons yet, but he was starting to see how much pride he really had. And how much it affected his day to day living.
The hallway curved off to the left and opened into a large cathedral filled with caskets. Marcus had Lacey run a quick scan of the room, and found that every casket had a body in it. The room was filled with these freshly exhumed corpses. Marcus groaned inwardly and tried not to get too disgusted.
“What’s the problem?” Rebekah asked. Marcus glanced back at her. He almost didn’t want to tell her.
“Necromancer.” Rebekah turned a paler shade of white at the word.
“Oh great.” Marcus could tell by her tone that she wasn’t pleased either. Ian wasn’t up on the term.
“What’s a necromancer?” Marcus started forward.
“A dark wizard with the power to animate and control necrotized flesh and bone.” Marcus didn’t bother to glance at Ian. He could almost hear the light go on over his head.
"Necrotized?" Ian asked.
"Dead," Rebekah translated. “And you thought the sewer was bad.” Ian's face fell.
“He controls the dead?” Rebekah nodded. "I didn't know magics were capable of that."
“Not the souls of the dead, but the bodies. Necromancers fancy themselves the lords of death. It doesn’t matter how long someone’s been dead. A body is a body. Even animals and summoned creatures can be re-animated. But I’ve never met a necromancer who wasn’t as afraid of death as anyone else. They die pretty easily.” Ian shivered as they walked through the rows of caskets after Marcus. The thought of the dead rising at the command of a crazy wizard was chilling. "Of course, it's all smoke and mirrors. Lots of veiled science and double-talk."
“Miss Norik, please,” a voice echoed through the room. “My powers extend far beyond just animating dead flesh. I gather power from the living through death. All the dead are within my control. And since all things die, I control all things . . . sooner or later.” Marcus looked ahead of them, and behind an altar at the end of the room, with a fresh corpse before him, was their wizard.
“This dead man’s party ends, now!” Marcus demanded, pointing his sword at the wizard. There was not even the barest of moves by the man. He was almost perfectly still while he was casting whatever hideous magics he was working with on the body before him. Marcus knew that Dread Paladins did not think of necromancers very highly, so any involvement with them was nil. Still, whom he was raising this army for was still a mystery.
“But the dead do not celebrate Sir Kasidyne. What have they to revel in when they are deceased?” Marcus could not place the voice beneath the black robes. But Rebekah seemed to know him.
“They can celebrate knowing that we’re going to destroy your magic, Kadance Krill.” Rebekah set her feet and gave Marcus a knowing glance. He’d have to ask her later why she knew who this man was.
“Ah, yes Miss Norik. My name sounds so beautiful dancing off your lips. Perhaps you would consider changing your mind about my offer. I would relish the idea of having more of me rolling off that silver tongue of yours.” Rebekah repressed a shiver and shook her head. Marcus could only listen in wonder at the exchange. This was one of those things Rebekah just never mentioned to him.
“What is it with you?” Ian muttered. Rebekah shrugged.
“I’m irresistible,” she returned.
“Krill,” Marcus snapped. “You are in violation of the laws and percepts of the Code banning the use of magics. I'll give you until the count of three to cease and desist and surrender yourself to us.” All three of them walked down the rows to surround the wizard and confront him. Ian was nervous, Marcus could tell. He didn’t normally sweat this much.
“One!” Marcus bit out. Krill didn’t move, but straightened his body and allowed light from the ceiling to hit his scarred and hollow face. Marcus knew that face from somewhere. He couldn’t remember where he’d seen it.
“Two!” The three of them were within ten feet of the altar. Marcus looked at both Ian and Rebekah, who nodded their approval. Krill wasn’t going to come quietly. They’d have to take him on. That’s when Krill raised his hand.
“Three,” he said dismissively. Around them, caskets started exploding open, wooden lids flying into the air. Lumber splintered and shattered all around them, and a moaning sound filled the dank silence. From each casket, decayed and rotten creatures were rising from their tombs. Marcus watched Krill take a few steps back and disappear into the shadows. He could follow him, but that wouldn’t accomplish much. They needed to put the dead to rest.
“Well, this is a fine mess,” Ian said, giving ground until he, Marcus and Rebekah where back-to-back with one another. Marcus shook his head.
“Bet you wish you were back in that stinking tunnel,” Rebekah added. Ian wasn’t so sure.
“I’m laying this all on you Marcus. I stink, I’m wet, and we’re about to be killed by dead people.” Ian was starting to ramble. “I’m training to be a paladin, not a snack.”
“Not how I planned it guys, I swear.” Ian smirked a little at that. Marcus did have a tendency of late to purposely put them in tough situations so Ian could learn something. He took a little comfort in knowing that today that wasn’t the case. But it worried him just the same.
“Do any of your plans go the way you intended?” Ian asked shortly. Marcus snorted.
“Not a one.”
“So, what is the plan then?” Rebekah asked as a dozen dead stalked forward, weapons at the ready. She tried not to look directly at them, feeling bile rising in her throat. If they weren’t in such a tough spot, Rebekah might have thrown up.
“We fight,” was all that Marcus would offer. Ian gave his fist daggers a quick twirl.
“Your plans are usually better than that.” Marcus readied his weapon and smirked.
“I’ve tried telling you Ian. I’m not perfect.” That’s when Marcus stepped forward, swinging his sword. Dead flesh started to fall to the earth. Ian and Rebekah dove into their enemies, and found themselves in the thick of the dead. Ian gave his enemies strikes that would fell a normal man. But his enemy did not falter. They simply grunted and advanced.
“What? These guys don’t feel pain?” Marcus gave a corpse a quick shrug and cut it to ribbons. His enemy did not rise from the floor.
“
They aren’t alive, Ian! They’ll keep coming unless you dismember them! They aren’t people! Don’t hold back!” Ian went to work, and in moments, his enemy was pieces on the floor. He gave a bad face at the carnage and tried not to get killed.
“Krill’s one of your ex-fiancés?” Marcus asked, cutting another skeleton down. Rebekah grimaced.
“Not exactly,” she returned. “Lady Delphius took me along on assignment. We ran into this guy, and-" Rebekah swung out with the blade of her lancet and forgot what she was saying. Marcus guessed the rest. He didn’t need any more explanation.
“Less talk! More cut!” Ian called from behind. Marcus tightened his grip on his blade and turned his focus to the nearly empty armor in front of them. With two strikes, the armor collapsed, dust pouring from the opened gashes.
Rebekah spun her lancet, zombies toppling all around her. She glanced around, trying to spot Krill. He was walking around the peripheral, an oily smile on his face. Rebekah started to fight in his direction, hoping to cut him off before he could try anything. Krill waved a dismissing hand in her direction. In seconds, Rebekah felt claws seizing her.
“MARCUS!” Marcus whipped his sword in a circle, cutting down three dead men and turned to see Rebekah being dragged off by a group of corpses. Ian cut himself an opening and both he and Marcus took off after the fast-moving assailants.
“Krill wants Rebekah? Why?” Ian asked as they hurdled the suddenly opening caskets. Marcus cut down any of the dead who sprang up in front of him and did not lose any speed.
“He’s a dirty old man. Besides, to hear Rebekah tell it, everybody wants her.” Ian sidestepped the swipe of a short sword from an old skeleton in red armor. He threw out a quick strike and sliced off the skeleton’s head with one clean cut.
“Well, she is your damsel in distress.” Marcus smirked a little at that.
“One of the dangers of being in a relationship, I guess.”
“GET THESE GUYS OFF ME!” Marcus could see Rebekah fighting as she was carried away, her lancet hacking at her captors, though they still didn't let her go.
“Give me one of your knives!” Ian demanded. Marcus tossed one of his blades to Ian, who gave it a quick throw. The blade glinted as it tumbled through the air, catching the lead corpse in the leg. The dead man tripped and the entire pile went down in a heap.
“I think we’ve got ‘em,” Ian said, clearing another casket.
“Ian, wait! That ground’s full of graves!” Ian stopped, and felt hands on his ankles. He started hacking away at them, trying to pull himself free. The daggers didn’t seem to be working. That’s when he heard the rumble.
“Oh terrific.” The ground behind Ian started to shift, dirt and dust dancing about as it slid aside. A desiccated creature started to emerge, more mouth than anything else. It let out a fluid choked screech and started to pull Ian toward it. “Marcus! A little help!”
“Bone Golem. On it!” Marcus leaped from the top of a casket, burying his blade in the creature’s skull. Thick viscous fluid gurgled out of the bone golem as the corpse faltered and collapsed, its grip slackening. Ian pulled himself up onto a casket, out of reach.
“You go too fast Ian,” Marcus said, cleaning black sludge from his blade. Ian didn’t have an argument for that.
“I know. One of my failings,” he lamented.
"Come on boys!” Rebekah screamed. Her captors had managed to get a hold of her again, and where again in retreat. Marcus poured on the speed and he and Ian dove through a quickly shutting door. They were outside again and Krill, Rebekah and the small troop of dead soldiers were atop a floating platform. Marcus couldn’t really tell, but the platform didn’t seem to have any technology holding it up. It was just wood and a large fresh mound of dirt. Krill seemed to be holding it up with his magic.
“Too late paladin! Miss Norik is mine, and you can remain here with the dead, until God sees fit for you to join them. Then, your body and your death are mine!” The platform began to float away from them, and Marcus was too low to leap up and grab it. He stopped short as it began to pick up speed.
“Okay,” Ian said in disbelief. He’d never seen a platform of wood just float away before. But all things dealing with magic were new to him. “How do you want to handle this?” Marcus put his fingers in his mouth and gave a quick whistle. That’s when Peracles rounded a corner, chased by a half-dozen skeleton soldiers. Marcus made a quick little leap up into the saddle and reached down for Ian’s hand.
“Any way that’s handy.” Ian looked around at the horde of the dead that were following them and didn’t ask twice. He bounded into the saddle and Marcus sent them after the platform with a quick kick.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve Krill,” Rebekah spat as the corpse warriors dropped her unceremoniously at Krill’s feet. She went to stand and felt a pair of hands grab her ankles. Rebekah knew it wasn’t one of her assailants, and Krill was too far away. One look confirmed her fears. Two decomposing hands held her in place.
“My dear Rebekah. You can either give yourself to me freely, or I can kill you and have you anyway. It really is your decision.” Rebekah cringed. What is it about these villains? She thought. They always want me!
“I guess I’d have to be dead then. Because if you think I’m just gonna let you touch me without a fight-" One of the corpses held a knife to her throat. Rebekah froze in mid-sentence, but did not remove her eyes from Krill. She was going to burn him down with a look. Krill just grinned.
“My men are fairly zealous my dear. But I will not be slashing your throat. Well, not yet anyway.” With a wave of his hand, Krill’s men stood down. Rebekah shook her head a little, stifling a shudder. She didn’t like having blades at her throat.
“So, you’re gonna bore me to death?” Krill’s hand disappeared into his robes, and then returned with a small pill in the palm. Rebekah recognized it. Concentrated Grim Tree Oil. Probably the most potent, fastest acting poison in Althea. Rebekah didn’t like the thought that sprang to mind.
“Swallow this, and an eternity in beauty and youth is yours. I can hold your beauty forever.” Rebekah looked at the capsule, then at Krill. Not that she was tempted. She knew better. But Rebekah knew how to play her audience. She bit her lip, and tried her best to look as though she were considering it.
Krill stood patiently. What did he care if she took forever? He was holding himself together with magics. As long as he could maintain them, he could exist into eternity. Besides, if he got Rebekah, she was sure he’d find a way to make himself into a young man and do all he wanted with her. Rebekah suddenly cursed her heritage.
“If I say no?” she asked, somewhat quietly. Krill gave his henchmen a look.
“I have my men bleed you. But I would prefer you without scars. And I don’t think I could stand to see you die that way.” Rebekah almost shot back with ‘Wish I could say the same,’ but thought better of it. She wasn’t in a good bargaining position at the moment. She had to keep up the act.
"I think we could both stand to see you eat it though," Ian's voice quipped from behind her. Rebekah couldn't look around, knowing full well that any move by her could end in her death. No sense making Marcus and Ian's job harder than it had to be. Instead, she gave a knowing smile. Krill's face contorted in frustration. Rebekah could already tell he was confused by the sudden appearance of her friends.
"I should apologize in advance for killing your friends," Krill said softly behind his hand. "Nothing personal." Rebekah blanched at his blasé attitude.
"Right," she said in sarcasm.
"You are an admirably persistent young man, Mister Kasidyne." Marcus smirked as he raised his blade.
"And you're supposed to be a dead man, Mister Krill." Ian set his feet beside Marcus and tried not to belie his anxiety. He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing against the necromancer. But Marcus noticed his lack of quips. Ian was concentrating, making sure he didn't lose his edge.
"But being a master of the dead, I cannot truly taste death,
can I?" Marcus knew this speech. Every necromancer he'd ever faced believed himself beyond the end of all flesh. And so far, every one of them was wrong and extremely deceased.
"We disagree," Ian droned.
“Ian, NO!” Marcus looked over as Ian dove at Krill. It took only a split second for the move to halt. The ground beneath Ian exploded upward, spraying everyone in dirt and rock. A roar filled the air as the cloud cleared, and a half-masticated ogre stood before Marcus, holding Ian in its fleshy hand.
"I do appreciate violence young man. But being dismembered is not on my agenda." Ian struggled to get free, but the grip of the ogre would not loosen. "So, we will dismiss you now, my young friend." Marcus only saw Ian's face for a second before the ogre reached back and hurled him as hard as he could at the horizon.
"Now that your ward has been handled, let's see if we can't take care of the teacher." Marcus looked up at the towering ogre and tried not to think about Ian's landing. He gave himself just a second to breath and dove ahead.
Chapter 1
Somewhat Slow and Painful
"Okay, can anyone tell me why Mister Sodaro ended up a smear on the landscape?" Marcus asked in a small classroom adjacent to the Holodrome's simulator room. His class, a group of teenagers no older than sixteen, all sat in defiant silence. None of them really wanted to be here.
Ian was leaning against the wall, looking embarrassed. He could still feel himself flying through the air, watching the ground screaming up at him. He hadn't expected to get caught, or thrown for that matter, but it was quickly becoming the norm that the things he didn't expect were the things that frequently happened. It was starting to annoy him.
The Paladin Archives Book Two The Withering Falseblade Page 2