Sunset of Lantonne

by Jim Galford

  The door swung open silently as Therec backed away, allowing two vaguely humanoid creatures to step into the passage, blocking any escape by Therec or Cinastin. The creatures had skin so pale that Therec could see their bones through the flesh and scraps of clothing that looked to have rotted away years earlier clung to their bodies. Hissing angrily, the undead inched into the passage, sniffing like dogs the whole way.

  “Ghouls,” Therec said over his shoulder. There was no point in hiding anymore. “Stay back and we will push past them. Do not let them bite or touch you!”

  The ghouls focused on Therec, their whitened eyes narrowing in hatred.

  Ghouls were something Therec had faced only a handful of times in his homeland. Made through the same magic as the animated ancestors that he was tasked with preserving, these were created from corpses long since decayed and left to fester. Any Turessian who made one, whether intentionally or by accident, would be killed without trial. They were horrid beast-like undead with a cunning that made them dangerous to even a Preserver.

  The ghouls inched closer, keeping their bodies low to the ground as they moved, sniffing despite staring straight at Therec. They would try to get close enough that they could leap on him, tearing him apart before he could fight them off. Their tactics were simple, but effective from what he has seen in the past.

  Therec stepped forward, trying to make it look as though he were going to run. The ghouls reacted immediately, snarling and bracing themselves to tackle him.

  Raising his hands and letting the ball of light vanish, Therec called on the spirits of the dead for their aid. He felt the familiar wash of tingling through his body, and the ghoul on the left collapsed, the magic animating it severed. The other hissed and looked between Therec and its companion, as though contemplating whether it had found a victim that might be too much to handle.

  With another snarl, the ghoul backed into the hall, using the door to shield itself from Therec. The creature would not go far, waiting for its chance to kill him. Unfortunately, the ghoul was smart enough to know a threat and would wait where he could not strike at it forever if it had to.

  “When we go, you go right to get away from the ghoul and any others with it,” warned Therec over his shoulder. “I will attempt to stop the creature, but there may be more. I want you to run if I am overwhelmed.”

  Therec began moving toward the door, stepping gingerly over the fallen ghoul. He could hear the remaining creature’s wheezing outside, but could not see it clearly to attack. The ghoul was smart enough to know how to set an ambush, which is one of many reasons Therec despised such creatures.

  Bracing himself, Therec counted down several seconds, then ran at the open door. He dove sideways as he cleared the opening, feeling the claws of the ghoul brush against his robes before he landed hard on the stone floor. Nearby, he saw Cinastin move past him, getting himself well behind Therec and away from the ghoul.

  The hallway ahead of Therec was empty aside from the ghoul, which had dropped back to all fours and backed off slightly out of some degree of fear. Past it, he could see dark pools of blood where there should have been guards. If he knew these creatures, Therec guessed that the ghouls had dragged the soldiers off somewhere to tear into them and eat their bones.

  A cry behind Therec made him look back in surprise. The instant he did, the ghoul leapt on him, its filthy claws raking at his robes, trying to get at his flesh. He tried to summon another spell, but the ghoul’s fingers tore across his jaw. Disease and poisons in the creature’s fingers numbed his face abruptly, making speaking and even thinking nearly impossible. He could not form the spell to save himself, no matter how he tried, while still fighting to keep the ghoul off of himself.

  Soon, Therec’s fighting began to subside as the toxins spread through scratches that slipped past his defenses. His limbs grew heavier with each break in his skin and, eventually, he could no longer lift them. Slumping weakly against the wall, he could only stare in panicked frustration at the ghoul’s broken teeth as the creature sat down in front of him, watching. It would wait until it was sure he could no longer resist before it would begin feeding.

  With great effort, Therec turned to look for the king, hoping the scream had not been him. Unfortunately, the boy remained alongside the door into the hidden passage, held off the floor by another corpse that looked more like the ones that had attacked them upstairs, though far fresher. The zombie had been created from a very recently-killed man, who still wore the armor of a Lantonnian soldier. Likely, this was one of the missing guards from the dungeon.

  Tightening its grip on the king, the zombie kept the boy still with one hand clamped over his mouth and the other arm pressed against the king’s chest to hold him up. Above the bloodied hand, Therec could see the boy’s wide eyes and could not help but think of his own son. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to save Cinastin, but he could not make his limbs move and any attempt to do so made his blood burn painfully.

  “Thank you for bringing him down to me,” called out a man from the direction that Therec had meant to escape toward. “We meant to use the tunnel to come up, but you simplified things.”

  Therec watched as a man in heavy black robes came around the corner at the end of the hall, stepping carefully around the bloodstains. His hood was up, but the style of his clothing was all too familiar to Therec. It was not his clan’s make, but it was certainly Turessian. All of his protestations about his people being innocent of aiding Altis were washed away by the man approaching him. His fear for Cinastin vanished and he wanted nothing more than to kill this traitor.

  “Hello, brother,” the man said in the common greeting among preservers and other educated Turessian men, taking a knee in front of Therec. Therec hardly even noticed that the man had switched from the common trade language of the south to a fluent Turessian. “We insisted on the council leaving this war alone. I see they cannot follow simple orders. You are a victim of their incompetence.”

  Therec tried to speak, but his tongue was too numb.

  “The king will die, have no fear,” the man continued. He kept his head low to hide his face in shadow as he spoke. “You are a liability. Turessi must stay out of this war, brother. They were not to know about any of this. You have no idea how much trouble you have caused. What am I to do with you?”

  Therec reached up with great effort and tried to grab at the man in the absence of being able to speak. As soon as his hand rose off his chest, the ghoul bared its dirty and broken teeth, warning him against getting any closer to the other Turessian.

  “You have something to say?” the stranger asked Therec, lifting a hand to stop the ghoul. “I will wait.”

  Therec continued to fight against the poison that ran through his veins, but he could move little more than one of his arms and that was unsteady at best. He could feel the burning slowly fading through his body, but it took longer than he would have wished. He waited patiently, using every minute to watch the king’s captor, plotting and thinking through his limited options. Without full use of his body, his magic would be very limited.

  Chuckling without revealing his facial features, the man told Therec, “You can speak, of that I’m sure. An untrained peasant would have recovered by now, so I know that you are hoping I will not notice. I am anxious to see what you will do, Preserver. Your order is new to me, though I know of your kind.”

  Therec did not take his eyes off the zombie that held Cinastin. The boy maintained a calm that Therec had not expected of a barbarian so young. The king had placed his trust in Therec, and he had no intention of letting the boy die. Aside from the diplomatic disaster that would be, Therec did not wish to face the wrath of the council of clans if he returned with that news. Likely, Therec and his family would be stripped of rank and status and be put in the slave camps, justifiably.

  He turned his attention back to the Turessian that knelt over him. Though he could not see the man’s face, he could tell from the tension in his shoulders and
back that he was concentrating. If he was maintaining the control over both undead, Therec could attack that rather than the man, which would require less action on his part.

  When he did speak, Therec struggled to maintain the appearance of weakness over that of split concentration. His primary focus remained the man over him, but he let his mind wander across the threads of magic that spread around them, holding the undead in check.

  “How long have you been here, brother?” The magic around the undead was strong, resisting Therec’s attempts to push against it. He strained, doing his utmost to make the effort appear to be part of his difficulty with the ghoul’s toxic touch. “The council believed I came here alone.”

  “What the council believes is carefully chosen. They watch my people at all times, thinking they are in control of us. This is why I must decide what to do with you. I should kill you, but all resources must be used to their best potential, and you are no different.”

  Therec could feel the man’s hold on the undead weakening. Try as he might, he could not pull the magic into himself and take charge of the animated corpses. He would have to do his best and hope that the instincts of the angry dead would aid him, rather than cause more trouble. With one last tug on the strands of magic, Therec could feel the spells crumble and fall away.

  The ghoul, squatting behind the other Turessian, blinked and bared its teeth. It seemed confused, but anger swelled in its face as it began to think about what it wanted to do. That anger was what Therec was counting on.

  Meanwhile, the zombie holding the king loosened its grip, letting the boy’s feet touch the ground. Such a creature would be much slower to anger, its mind nearly gone in the transition from life to undeath. Therec could count on it being apathetic to anything until it saw sudden movement, at which point it would act like any animal predator, attacking whatever caught its eye.

  “I will do what the council tasked me with,” Therec told the man, relaxing. “Kill me if you must, but I expect you to abide by our laws. Show me who you are, so that I may die in peace.”

  The man’s shoulders shook with stifled laughter. “This has not always been our way. You have put so many rules on such a simple thing. I owe you nothing, just as I owe this city nothing.”

  “Then at least tell me how you found us down here,” tried Therec. He was determined to get something out of the man before risking the next step of his plan.

  “How? This city was built by our people. It was not so hard to guess where you would go. I remember these halls better than many of the soldiers stationed here.”

  That was all Therec needed. He would confront the council about the reason for his assignment and learn what the truth might be about the city’s history with Turessi. Anything else would come from them, not from the traitor that had betrayed the council’s orders.

  Snapping into action, Therec kicked the other Turessian in the chest, knocking him over backwards into the waiting ghoul. Immediately, the bestial undead attacked the man, slashing at him with teeth and claws. The zombie likewise lurched into motion, throwing the king aside to charge at the robed man.

  Therec had to force himself to freeze after kicking the man, trying to keep from becoming a target, too. Once the zombie moved past him and fell on the man, trying to bite at him and pounding him with its fists, Therec felt more confident that he would not be noticed.

  Getting to his feet, Therec ran for the king and helped him up. The boy got up quickly, nodding and pushing Therec’s hands away. He would be fine, but only if they managed to get out of the dungeon before any more undead found them.

  “Run for the exit,” Therec suggested softly. “I will ensure they do not follow.”

  Cinastin hesitated, then nodded and looked past the two undead, still flailing at the Turessian on the floor. He steadied himself and began running, skirting the group as best he could in the narrow passage.

  As the king cut around the undead, Therec watched in horror as the entire situation changed. Once the king was in range, the zombie stopped mid-swing and the ghoul sat up, looking straight at the boy. In the back of Therec’s mind, he felt the magical control over the undead solidify like a rope going taut.

  Therec raised his hands, intending to destroy the undead now that they were no longer valuable for fighting the other Turessian. The magic came to him, along with the whispering voices of the dead that fueled it, then fell apart abruptly, leaving him helpless and far from the king’s side.

  The other Turessian man sat up, one gloved hand aimed at Therec. From what Therec could deduce, the man had managed to cut off his magic, despite dozens of blood-stained tears in his robes. The ghoul’s poisonous claws should have disabled him, but somehow he had remained able to react.

  Therec tried to push past the man’s barrier, reaching mentally for his magic. He could feel it slipping and the source of his magic getting closer, but the king had only seconds before the ghoul was on him. Already, the creature was on its feet, ready to jump onto the boy.

  The two Turessians strained silently against one another, Therec pushing to retake his own powers while the other man got up and tried to continue to hold him at bay.

  The ghoul finally moved, once the king had gotten past it and was accelerating toward the end of the hall. It seemed to be waiting until the boy had some distance on it, like a cat hoping to run down a fleeing mouse.

  Therec pushed as hard as he could, tearing through the barrier between himself and his magic. Immediately, the voices of the dead returned in a rush, signaling his access to the magic he had worked his whole life to master. He wasted no time, knitting together the stream of tingling energy that flowed through him into the spell that would strip the ghoul’s “life” from it.

  The other Turessian swept his hand to one side and Therec’s spell fell apart, dismissed as easily as one might swat an insect. When Therec tried again, the man likewise tore apart his spell with such a calm ease that Therec could only wonder at where he had trained. Few from any clan had managed to best Therec in tests of wisdom, but this stranger was always a step ahead of him with every spell.

  The ghoul reached Cinastin and dragged him to the ground, pinning him to the floor with its claw-like hands.

  “You continue to surprise me,” the Turessian told Therec, dismissing another of Therec’s spells as he approached. “I hate to think that you will die without knowing anything about our own people.”

  Therec worked faster with every step the man took, but no matter what spell he tried to cast, no matter how fast he did it, the man countered it all. Then, Therec’s concentration failed him entirely as he got his first look at the man’s wounds through the shredded remains of his robe. The ragged cuts from the ghoul’s attacks were closing as he watched.

  “Undead,” whispered Therec, trying to decide what to do and taking a step back. “What are you? A liche, a revenant, what?”

  “I am whatever I need to be,” the man replied, stopping. He lowered his hood slowly, revealing a finely-chiseled face, short-trimmed blonde hair, and the detailed tattoos of a Turessian citizen. “You could learn something from those who can adapt to their world….”

  Therec stared at the tattoos and thought frantically about who the man could be. Turessians did not animate their own dead as anything but mindless walking memorials of their lifetimes. A Turessian with all of his knowledge and skill but in an undying body would be an abomination beyond imagination. He had heard dark stories of such people in times long past, but had always believed them to be legends meant to scare children and the uneducated. This man’s very presence redefined those stories.

  His eyes went to the stranger’s markings, searching for clues. The rune-words told of one’s accomplishments and history within the clan. He might not find all of his answers on the man’s face, but he might find something of use. He had to know which clan could have managed this.

  The rune-words only further confused Therec. They spoke of deeds in war, yet the Turessians had not gone to war in
centuries. The symbols referenced a clan that he had never even heard of, making him wonder if they were a mere copy of Turessian runes tattooed by one who could not read them but had pattered them after something found elsewhere. Most baffling were the ones that used words he could not even translate, given how old they were. As old as the writing had been in the tunnels, this man’s honor markings were in a style far older than any Therec had seen.

  “You are not the reason I came here,” the man said at last, stopping where he was. “I will deal with you next.”

  The man turned and motioned to the ghoul. Without even looking at Therec, he continued to prevent Therec from getting a spell off on the ghoul.

  Yanking the boy-king off the floor, the ghoul pulled him onto his knees. The king clenched his jaw and looked to Therec but did not cry out as the ghouls claws scraped at his neck and shoulders, shredding his shirt and tunic.

  Therec tried everything he could think of, but his hands had begun to shake as he neared his limits. The other man was blocking him both magically and physically, ensuring he had no way to help the king.

  The ghoul situated itself behind the king and abruptly clamped its teeth down on his shoulder, finally eliciting a scream from the boy. Then, to Therec’s surprise, the undead threw the boy aside and backed away.

  “I trust you are familiar with ghouls?” the stranger asked, turning his attention back to Therec. “If so, you know the misery that boy is about to endure. The disease in its bite is incurable if not treated quickly. He will have seizures and eventually die, unless a healer…such as yourself…acts soon. By my estimate, you have one hour to heal him.”

  Before Therec could move, the man was on him, having moved faster than Therec could follow. With strength he had never felt in a human, the man slammed Therec into the wall, tightening his gloved hands around Therec’s neck.