by Dante King
My meat puppet jumped up onto the platform. Before the thug could start to think of protesting, Jandor had shot out his gauntleted hand, clamped his fingers around the man’s throat, and lifted him with one hand, throttling him with merciless force.
“Hey!” screamed the other thug. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Get off my platform!” roared the slaver, an obese, bald man in his 50s, from behind the platform. “You have no authority to do this. Put him down!”
I could feel the thug’s throat as if I was squeezing it with my own hands, even though I was 20 yards away. I ignored the slaver and his guard as I tightened my zombie’s powerful fingers. The thug in my hands gasped and struggled and kicked, his face turning purple and his tongue bulging grotesquely out of his mouth, but he couldn’t break Jandor’s iron grip. His colleague shoved the girl over, drew a long dagger from his belt, and charged at Jandor. Without releasing the other thug from his grasp, the zombie captain simply caught the second man’s wrist as he came in for a stab, gave his arm a savage, bone-snapping twist, and slammed him to the floor.
“I have complete authority to do this, you vile monster.” Elyse turned to the square, took the scroll out, and held it up before her. “I am the new Bishop of Erst!”
A gasp of shock rippled through the crowd. The thug in Jandor’s hand breathed his last and went limp. The other one, half-dazed, gasped and started to drag himself off the platform with his one functioning arm. The fat slaver, however, remained defiant.
“So? Your predecessor legalized slavery,” he said. “You can’t do anything to us. We were acting within the bounds of the law. And now, you’ve just murdered one of my men. Bishop or not, I’ll petition the Duke to have you hanged.”
“It wasn’t a murder,” Elyse said coolly. “It was an execution, a fitting punishment for the crime you and your men are committing.”
“What? Are you deaf, or are you just stupid? Slavery is legal. We aren’t committing any crime.”
“What does the Lord of Light have to say about slavery? In his own holy writings, what did he say?”
“Who cares? Who has time to read any of that when they have a job to do? Only lazy clerics. What I was told personally was that slavery was legal, no limitations.”
“And what all bishops have said for as far back as we know, no ruler, of the church or otherwise, has the authority to go against the divine laws of the Lord of Light. In chapter 4, verse 73 of the Book of Dawn, the Lord himself wrote that ‘slavery is an abomination, a crime of the highest order. Do not suffer slavers and those who work in this despicable trade to live. Drive them from your towns and kill them in the wilderness. Leave their remains for wild beasts to feast upon.’ I don’t care what Nabu said; slavery has always been and always will be a crime in the eyes of the Church of Light, which means it will always be a crime in this God-fearing land. And you, and all of your friends here, are guilty of that crime, a crime punishable under Sacred Law by death! And I, as Bishop of Erst, have complete authority to sentence and punish you for this transgression.”
A look of panic came over the man’s flabby face. “Wait, wait,” he stammered. “But Nabu said... he told us that the Lord’s words were just, uh, uh—”
“Nabu is gone, and I have come to undo the evil and corruption that spread under his term. And I’m starting right here. With you. All of you who are involved in selling slaves are hereby condemned to die. Captain Jandor, you and your men are hereby authorized to carry out this sentence!”
This was the moment I’d been waiting for. Strands of my mind shot out like grasping tentacles, snaking invisibly through the air and plunging into the undead bodies of the Resplendent Crusaders. As soon as a sliver of my consciousness impaled one of them, a sensation of complete control gushed through me with a jolt. In seconds, I was wielding each of their bodies like a weapon, as if I held them in my hands.
The other slavers had all been watching, and they knew the game was up. They attempted to run, to disappear into the crowd, but I’d memorized each of their faces. They hadn’t been paying attention to me while Elyse was up on the stage, so I’d been able to study them more than thoroughly.
Looking through multiple pairs of eyes, I was able to run down and catch every one of them before they could escape. None were particularly fit or strong, and it only took a few punches, trips, and throws to subdue them.
Elyse went from platform to platform, striking the chains off the slaves and gently helping them down, while my zombie Crusaders hauled the struggling, panicking slavers and their thugs up onto the very platforms where they’d been selling human beings like cattle.
“Let the following executions be a well-remembered lesson to anyone who ever considers selling human beings as slaves!” Elyse cried. “Captain Jandor and my Crusaders, tear out their hearts!”
I chuckled. Elyse was certainly full of surprises, and she had a very dark and uncompromising sense of justice. We had more in common than she’d perhaps like to admit.
I wasted no time in carrying out the sentence. Under my control, Captain Jandor smashed his hand like a spear into the fat slaver’s chest, gripping the scumbag’s still-beating heart and yanking it out. The man gasped as he stared bulgy-eyed at his own blood-dripping heart in Jandor’s hand. Before death hit him, Jandor slammed the man’s heart into his gaping mouth, and finally, the slaver’s eyes glazed over and rolled back in their sockets.
A soul slammed into my chest, filling me with a sudden rush. So, this was what it felt like to actually be the final destination of these stolen souls. I had to make sure I didn’t get addicted to this, but if it was a byproduct of a quest for justice, why not enjoy it?
The thug who was next in line jerked himself free of the Crusader’s grasp and whipped his dagger out, his eyes wild with desperate madness. Howling, he flew at the Crusader and attempted to shove the blade through a gap between armor plates. Emboldened by their comrade’s escape attempt, the other slavers and their goons started screaming and fighting with everything they had to get loose. Pandemonium erupted on the platforms, and the execution turned into a skirmish.
“Kill them all,” Elyse said calmly. “Don’t let them escape.”
Isu was among the slavers, her dagger performing precise cuts while she cackled. She didn’t seem to care for justice; she was simply enjoying the chance to send them to their deaths. She lifted her hand, and an acrid, green smoke shot out from her palm. It enveloped a slaver, and he choked as his skin bubbled and putrefied. Rami ran him through with her sais before she plucked them out and pounced on the nearest slaving bastard.
My zombie Crusaders had been very powerful as living men, but they were easily twice as strong now that they were zombies. As the thug tried to stab Jandor, the zombie caught his wrist and yanked him in close for a headbutt with his great helm. When the man staggered back, Jandor smashed him with such a powerful gauntleted uppercut that the man’s head was half torn off his neck, opening up his throat with the sound of ripping flesh and spraying a torrent of blood as he fell.
Another Crusader blocked a wimpy punch from a slaver and picked the man up with both hands, held him high above his head for a couple of seconds, then slammed him down with such force that the man’s torso burst open, spraying everyone around him with gore.
A thug, in his desperate attempt to evade justice, broke free of a Crusader’s grip and went for Elyse instead.
She lifted her eyes to the heavens. “Lord of Light, hear my prayer!” she said with a voice that seemed to come from somewhere else, to stand out above the sounds of pain and panic without being too loud. A beam of moonlight shot down from the heavens and bathed her in its incandescence. Armored plating formed over her clothes, and the flanged mace in her hand became a two-handed warhammer.
As the thug screamed and charged her, his dagger raised high above his head, she darted in, her new warhammer gripped in her right hand. Moving with a newfound speed and agility, she angled her body in low and brought her
weapon whipping up in a savage arc that caught the man on his chin, crushing half of his jaw and sending him flying up and back. As he landed, stunned, she pounced on him and finished him off with a merciless blow that cratered his face.
“Nice,” I said. I liked this Elyse.
“No one will evade justice today!” Elyse roared, her eyes aflame with the madness of battle. Behind her, one of my zombie Crusaders ripped a slaver’s head off his neck with his bare hands. It was quite a fitting backdrop.
The slavers’ escape attempts were as short-lived as they were futile. Within what must have been less than a minute, their pathetic rebellion had been put down, and my zombie Crusaders had ended their lives in a number of grisly ways.
Their souls flooded my body, leaving me feeling like a wineskin filled to bursting. Every fraction of my being pulsed with power, and I swayed on my feet like a drunkard who’d been imbibing for years on end.
“Let this be a lesson to all of you!” Elyse stood proudly before the hushed crowd with the Crusaders positioned behind her. “Slavery will never be tolerated in Erst again. Any citizen who even contemplates committing such a crime will meet the same fate as these criminals. As Bishop of Erst, I hereby declare that, in accordance with the Lord of Light’s own scriptures, anyone found to be involved in slavery in any manner will be sentenced to death! Does anyone here wish to challenge this?”
The entire crowd was completely silent. Nobody was going to say anything, not after what they’d just seen.
“Get out of here then,” Elyse snapped. “Go enjoy what’s left of Saint Jorl’s night. And don’t forget to pray before the sun comes up.”
Murmured hasty prayers came from the crowd before the first of them scurried away. Elyse stayed on the platform, watching them leave. When they had finally dispersed, she jumped off and walked over to me with a wide smile on her face. Her warhammer became the flanged mace, and her armor melted away.
“How did I do?” she asked. “Was I a convincing figure of authority?”
“Convincing enough for me,” I answered, “and just about everyone else in Erst, I’m sure. Damn, you were pretty savage up there—no mercy!”
“Brutal, uncompromising, and committed to hard justice,” Isu piped up. “And all those souls are now yours, Vance.”
“I must admit, I feel pretty good. You must miss it.”
Isu glared at me. “You forget what I once was.”
“Not at all. Which is why I’m keeping an eye on you.” I gave her a wink.
“You fight well,” Rami said to Isu.
The former goddess shrugged. “I suppose.”
Now that the slave market had been taken care of, and justice restored to Erst, it was time to go find the old fountain. Hopefully, it would give us some clues as to the whereabouts of Xayon’s body. But first, since I figured neither Xayon’s corpse nor the fountain were going anywhere…
“How about we take some time to unwind with a drink or two?” I suggested. “After all this being the long arm of Sacred Law, I’m feeling pretty parched.”
Elyse laughed. “You didn’t do anything.”
“What my Crusaders were doing was all me.”
“It wasn’t your body doing the fighting and killing, you just sat back and pulled the levers,” Rami said.
I chuckled and winked at her. “Fine, I just wanted an excuse to have a drink. There are a few hours left before dawn. And I think you would all agree that we best continue on our great quest when we’re least likely to come up against obstacles? I’d say dawn is probably the least busy time of day around the fountain on a night like this.”
“After tonight’s festivities,” Elyse said, “yes, dawn’s going to be when most of Erst will be finding their way to bed.”
“And what do you two think?” I asked Rami and Isu.
“It’s been a few hundred years since my lips last tasted anything alcoholic,” Isu said dryly. “I suppose I have missed it, in a way.”
“And you, Rami?”
“I don’t drink,” she answered. “Enjartas are forbidden to consume alcohol. But don’t let me stop the rest of you.”
“Good enough for me,” I said before turning to Elyse. “Elyse, you’re our local. Where can we find a tavern where the music is loud and the drinks are cold?”
“The One-Eyed Ogre is usually… fun,” she answered with a strange smile.
“A one-eyed ogre, eh? Weren’t you and Rami arguing earlier about the size of my—”
“Stop right there, Vance!” Elyse laughed. “Do I need to remind you that you’re speaking to the newly restored Bishop of Erst?”
“I wasn’t aware that women of the one true God were allowed to reveal so much leg, Elyse.” I stared with unabashed appreciation at her long legs, pale and defined in the moonlight.
Elyse blushed and moved to cover up her cleavage with her left hand, which she failed to do with what her chest had to offer and the slightness of what she was wearing. But I’d seen a sparkle of mischief in her eyes and noticed the corners of her mouth curving up into a subtly salacious smile. She knew very well that I’d been admiring her body in that tiny dress, whether she was walking, standing still, or wielding her mace with bloodthirsty eyes. Far from being uncomfortable with it, she seemed almost pleased.
“To the One-Eyed Ogre!” Elyse declared.
“Ah, so, you are still keen to have a look at my—”
Rami thumped me in the back, and I stumbled forward a little. Her cheeks were aglow with a blush, but there was a flirtatious gleam sparkling in her eyes.
I took it as a “yes” on her part.
Chapter Twenty-One
The crowds were finally starting to thin out, and only swaying pockets of partygoers were left where there’d been chanting crowds earlier. People were stumbling home, and ale and snack vendors were taking down their stalls, while the various entertainers were counting out the tips that had been placed in their hats or instrument cases. Music and laughter still spilled out into the night from a few taverns though.
The One-Eyed Ogre wasn’t the sort of place I’d imagined Elyse would have frequented. It was a large tavern, occupying the ground floor of a four-story building down a cramped lane. In an alley alongside it, a number of roughnecks lay passed out against the wall. Right outside the wide-open front door, drunks laughed loudly and stumbled around, while the sounds of carousing coming from inside were louder than all the other taverns we’d passed so far. Exotic, energetic music—no doubt played by a band of traveling musicians from the south, judging from the complex rhythms being thumped out of the bongo drums—propelled everyone to keep drinking.
“You’d better get the Crusaders to wait outside,” Elyse said.
I nodded. “Nothing kills a party faster than a couple of righteous zombies standing around glaring at people.”
“This is really your prefered tavern in Erst, Elyse?” Rami asked as she looked in from the doorstep.
“It’s been a few years since I was last here,” she answered. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but when I was a young apprentice cleric, I enjoyed partying. I’d sneak out with my friends and come here. They have excellent music and delicious ale, and you can always count on some, ahem, fun, when you spend a night in here.”
Rami looked around with distaste. Clearly, enjartas didn’t visit taverns too often. Isu, however, seemed to be drawn in by the seedy atmosphere. Since a number of patrons were dressed up, she didn’t look at all out of place with her horns. I only hoped that no drunken idiots decided to tug on them while we were inside. She’d probably slice them up with her daggers or use her magic on them.
“I wonder if I’ll see any of my fellow Irradiant Institute acolytes,” Elyse said as she wandered inside. “I’m sure some of them still come here for a tipple every now and then.”
As I followed her in, my sixth sense tingled, and I grabbed Elyse’s shoulder and yanked her back. A barstool flew through the air where her head had just been, smashing into splinter
s on the wall next to us.
Elyse dusted herself off as if nothing had happened and calmly walked around the two brawling drunks who came crashing through the crowd a few seconds after the barstool. The two men fell to the ground in front of me and started wrestling on the floor. I chuckled and stepped over them, letting them continue with their business as I followed Elyse to the bar. Rami walked in behind me, looking even more unimpressed with this place, while Isu beamed out a strange smile as she stopped close to the front door, folding her arms across her chest and leaning against a wall as she casually watched the brawl.
“Rowdy night here, huh?” I remarked to Elyse as she pulled up a stool at the bar.
She laughed. “Nope.”
“I’m sorry,” I chuckled, “I’m just finding it hard to believe that this kobold den is one of your favorite taverns in Erst.”
“It may be dirty, a little stinky, and have less than savory clientele,” she answered, “but it has character. And, for me, a lot of good memories.”
“Elyse! Elyse, is that you?” a voice came from the tavern’s far corner.
Elyse’s face lit up as her eyes fell on a man about her age. He was short and painfully thin. He barely had more meat on his bones than my skeleton warriors. A hooked beak of a nose dominated an emaciated face covered with pox scars. His small, pig-like eyes were crossed, making it difficult to determine where exactly he was looking. A mouthful of stained gums and yellowed, crooked teeth suggested he’d enjoyed too much black spice, an illegal narcotic common in Prand among thieves, rogues, pickpockets, whores, and other types who live their lives in the margins. His hair was a mess of greasy dreadlocks, and his ragged, patched tunic suggested that he was a peasant at best, and a beggar at worst.
