Soldiers of the Crown

by Stephen L. Nowland

  “She’s right, we shouldn’t wait for Nel,” Aiden said with a tremulous voice, drawing his blade and swinging it a couple of times to test its balance.

  “Alright, we step back, open the door and I will wade in, cutting down whatever stands in our way,” Valennia instructed. “Follow me in, old man, if you wish to show me your mettle.”

  “I will support your advance, of that you can be certain,” Sir William replied gruffly.

  “When you move in, I will have to close the door behind you,” Ashwyn warned. “I cannot allow those abominations to threaten the lives of those out here. If you need to get out, knock loudly and I shall open it again. God be with you all.”

  “If Corvyn is harmed, or heaven forbid killed,” Sir William replied coldly, “there shall be a reckoning, I swear it.” Ashwyn nodded meekly, remaining silent.

  The sounds of rapid footsteps approaching caught Aiden’s attention, and he could see Nellise rushing towards them as fast as she could with her breastplate partially strapped on and weapons on her back.

  “Give me a hand with this, Pace,” she asked quickly. Ashwyn looked on impassively, but withheld comment. Nellise looked back at him, equally silent, until she placed her helmet over her head and threaded her white-blond hair out through the back. Taking out her repeating crossbow, she began whispering prayers while laying one hand purposefully upon its length.

  “I find your blessing of a weapon to be… distasteful,” Ashwyn commented dryly.

  “And yet God answers my prayers,” Nellise retorted. “That should give you something to ponder while my companions and I clean up your mess.” She then nodded to Valennia and raised the crossbow up to cover the doorway, while Aiden and Pacian stepped to one side.

  After Sir William had jumped back, Val swung open the door expecting to see a horde of risen priests clamouring for their deaths. Instead, there was nothing but the darkness. They stood around the door for a long, tense moment, before Valennia, her axe held ready in both hands, took a few steps inside.

  “I kind of wish Sayana was here right about now,” Pacian remarked, drawing a brief nod of agreement from Aiden.

  “We need light,” Valennia muttered, and Nellise quickly whispered a prayer that lit her crossbow. The Akoran warrior proceeded inside cautiously, with Sir William and Nellise following close behind. Aiden and Pacian reluctantly ventured in, bringing up the rear.

  Aiden struggled to stop his hands from shaking as they moved further into the mausoleum. What began as a short corridor turned into a stairway of broad stone steps leading down into the gloom. The place seemed to be meticulously clean, despite the apparent age of the stone brick walls.

  The door slammed shut, leaving them standing above the stairs in near darkness, lit only by the light shed by Nellise’s prayer. Their shadows were long and towered above them on the walls, adding to the unsettling atmosphere of the mausoleum.

  “We move,” Valennia ordered. “Stay focused and do not stray far from me, or I cannot protect you.” Without waiting for a reply, she began slowly descending, keeping her axe at the ready.

  “Where are they?” Pacian whispered nervously. “We saw one right up at the doorway, it couldn’t have just vanished… right?”

  “I thought it was keeping guard, but maybe it just came because the door was open,” Aiden speculated in a quiet voice. “Where do you think Corvyn would be?”

  “Ashwyn spoke of him talking to the remains of Sir Marcus,” Sir William whispered over his shoulder. “His tomb is to the left at the bottom of these stairs.”

  “That doesn’t sound far,” Pacian remarked hopefully.

  “It is roughly seventy yards, through an entire wing of the Church’s honoured dead,” the knight added. “If Corvyn has indeed used forbidden…” his voice trailed off as they reached the bottom of the stairs and saw before them dozens of pale-blue eyes, glowing in the reflected light. Each of the corpses stared at them, still wrapped in the vestments which had been used in preparing their remains long ago.

  Aiden froze in fear as the host shuffled towards them, moving as fast as the state of their decaying bodies permitted. Pacian screamed and stumbled up the stairs as fast as he could, while Valennia, for all her bravado, staggered backward a step. Neelise froze in fear at the sight, but Sir William was the exception of the group, not merely holding his ground but advancing upon them.

  “These are but the defiled remains of the honoured dead,” the knight called as the risen priests moved straight towards him. “We shall return them to their eternal rest.” Nellise, as shocked as Aiden at the sight of their worst fears come to pass, snapped out of her trance and loosed a bolt at the nearest reanimated corpse.

  A flash of light blinded them for a moment as the blessed bolt touched the unholy creature. It breathed a raspy scream and flailed at the bolt sticking out of its chest, only to have another strike its leg with similar results.

  Steam arose from their corpses as more blessed bolts purified the abomination, distracting it enough that Sir William was able to step in and shatter its decaying bones over the ancient stone paving with one sweep of his blade.

  Sir William, for all his bravery, was in danger of being surrounded by the monsters unless Aiden and the others managed to pull themselves together. With shaking hands, he raised the parchment of lightning, and by the torchlight nearby began to read out the few lines of arcane runes to release the energy stored within.

  Pointing into the crowd, Aiden succeeded in reading the incantation without error and the parchment quickly shrivelled into ash. An arc of electricity lit up the mausoleum as if it were the middle of the day, crackling through the horde of reanimated priests from one end to the other. The smell of charred flesh filled his nostrils as some of the corpses caught fire, howling as they thrashed about.

  The bolt of lightning also served another purpose — it was a signal to the others that they had a chance against the horde, and it was all Valennia needed to gather her wits and let out a piercing battle cry as she charged into the fray. She swept her axe back and forth against the supernatural monsters, taking off limbs and severing bones.

  This was not a one-sided fight, however, as the corpses seemed to be imbued with incredible strength. Each swing of their arms struck with brutal force. Nellise continued to shoot a storm of crossbow bolts at the corpses, but of Pacian, there was no sign. Aiden summoned his force shield and against all his instincts, moved in to help his allies.

  The smell at close range was almost unbearable. Aiden’s shield proved to be a blessing, for it absorbed solid hits from his relentless opponents that would surely have crippled him. When a cry of alarm came from Nellise, Aiden glanced over his shoulder to see her being assailed by a pair of arms reaching up from an adjacent casket, clawing at her robes and trying to pull her in.

  She shot a crossbow bolt into the casket and the rasping sound of pain coming from within, but with the distraction keeping her busy, they were in danger of being overwhelmed. Aiden swung his sword ineffectually against one of the corpses, and with his panic mounting he was contemplating making a break for it to regroup at the entrance to the mausoleum when a soft radiance started to envelop them.

  They had been fighting by the subtle light from Nellise’s glowing crossbow, but this new light was different. The abominations before him recoiled, ceasing their attacks and allowing the beleaguered group to fall back and catch their breath. Nellise held her crystal aloft in one hand — Aiden had seen her channel such power before, but this time she was having trouble maintaining the flow. The strain was evident in her eyes.

  “I can’t hold them for long,” she whispered through gritted teeth. Aiden knew why she was having difficulty, but this was hardly the time or place to discuss it.

  Having overcome his initial fear of the animated corpses, Aiden was struck by the crude simplicity of their attacks. They had no mind to speak of, and used no finesse or strategy in their assaults, relying instead on force of numbers and supernatural strengt
h.

  As Valennia and Sir William waded forward, the aura of light from Nellise flickered and failed. Free from the power of the heavens inhibiting their actions, the risen priests set to the attack once more. Deep in her battle-lust, Valennia didn’t seem to notice how badly she was being pummelled, while the knight was forced to raise his shield and simply try to survive.

  Valennia responded with her axe, striking them down one after another, crushing bone and severing decaying limbs. Aiden, unable to find a way to be useful, realised Nellise was the key to winning this fight. He went to look for Pacian and found him watching from a safe distance, leaning against the wall.

  “They will not perish!” Valennia called, for the remains that had been cut to the ground were reassembling and rising back to their feet to press the attack against them. Whatever dark magic was animating the corpses was stronger than their weapons, and it was becoming clear that there was only one way to finish this.

  “We’ve got to get to Corvyn and make him reverse the incantation,” Aiden shouted, encouraging Pacian to follow but unsure if his friend was up to it.

  “How are we going to get past those things?” he asked, nervously.

  “We run. Nel, can you do that thing with the light again?”

  “I… yes, but only for a few seconds,” she warned. Nellise took out her crystal once more and with genuine struggle began to pray. As the light spread over the corpses, they recoiled as before. Aiden sprang into action.

  “Keep them busy, we’re going to deal with Corvyn,” Aiden yelled as he rushed past Sir William and Valennia, without even waiting to see if Pacian was following him. Pushing through the ranks of the undead was one of the least pleasant experiences in Aiden’s life, and he cringed each time he grazed one.

  Invoking his arcane light, Aiden was able to see that not far ahead was another stairway leading down, past rank after rank of opened caskets on either side of the passageway. The sounds of footfalls behind him alerted Aiden to the presence of Pacian, who had apparently mustered up the courage to follow through the army of the dead. The two friends quickly descended the stairs as the sounds of fighting intensified behind them.

  The sound of a man talking came from somewhere ahead. Pacian put a hand on Aiden’s arm to stop him and crept past, using the ample shadows to move forward unseen. Aiden held his position for a long moment until his impatience won out and he moved forward to investigate.

  He entered a circular room roughly twenty yards across, dimly-lit by torches in wall sconces. A raised dais was placed in the middle, on which sat a simple casket. The lid had been completely pushed aside and to Aiden’s horror, the corpse of Sir Marcus stood before it, clad in ancient armour and a helm which thankfully kept his grisly remains concealed.

  An archaic sword was strapped to its right, and a shield strapped to its left, though both hung as if the creature didn’t know they were there. The corpse stood completely still with its head at an odd angle, almost as if it were listening to the elderly priest nearby.

  The robed old man must have been Patriarch Corvyn. His mind was clearly unsettled, for he seemed to be conducting a one-way conversation with the silent corpse. Corvyn didn’t seem to notice this, and continued speaking of strange events that may or may not have happened. A large, leather-bound book was held close to his chest — undoubtedly the tome of reanimation.

  Pacian crept around the edge of the chamber, making his way slowly to the elderly priest. Knowing Pace, Aiden figured he was planning to stab Corvyn in the back, but he wasn’t sure that would release the dead back to their endless sleep so he quickly formulated a new plan.

  “Corvyn, is that you?” Aiden asked in as casual a manner as he could manage. The elderly priest stopped talking in mid-sentence and turned to peer at him. His grey hair was matted and unkempt, and his eyes had a vague look about them.

  “Do I know you?” he rasped.

  “No, but I know of you, Your Eminence,” Aiden replied carefully, ignoring Pacian’s look of disbelief from nearby. “You look tired sir, and your guest is simply dead on his feet. Why don’t you put that heavy book down and return to your chambers for a nap?”

  “What? Oh, yes, well I am rather fatigued, young man,” Corvyn mumbled as the animated corpse of one of the Kingdom’s greatest historical figures looked on impassively. “Sir Marcus has travelled a long way to be here and it would be unseemly to relinquish my role as host to such an esteemed visitor. Perhaps in a few hours I might introduce him to the Archieros and then take my leave.”

  “Why wait?” Aiden pressed, licking his lips. “We can head upstairs to see him now, and you can all sit in comfort while you talk.” If Aiden’s ploy didn’t work, it was quite possible they would have to fight the armoured corpse. Corvyn’s eyes lost focus for a long moment, and Aiden flicked a nervous glance at Pacian, standing in the shadows gripping his daggers tight.

  “Where am I?” Corvyn muttered a moment later, glancing slowly around at the chamber in which they stood. Aiden looked at him sharply, wondering if this was a moment of lucidity from the old priest.

  “You’re in the burial chamber of Sir Marcus Elward,” Aiden replied slowly, gambling that a dose of reality might snap the old fellow out of it.

  “What in blazes am I doing down here, you rapscallion,” he snarled, appearing aghast. “Did you drag a tired old man down here? For what purpose?”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Pacian muttered, swiftly moving in, ready to take him down. Aiden winced at the thought of harming the poor old chap, but given the situation, he wasn’t about to stop Pacian from trying it either. Just as Pace was about to strike the old priest, Aiden’s worst fears came true as the armoured remains of Sir Marcus sprang into motion with incredible speed.

  Surprised by the sudden movement, Pacian’s instincts kicked in and he rolled backwards, just in time to avoid being skewered by the abomination’s sword.

  “Sir Marcus, aid me against these blaggards,” Corvyn gasped, staggering to lean against the wall as if he barely had the strength to stand. Aiden rushed over to Corvyn and ripped the book from his grasp, knocking him to the floor in the process. The armoured corpse awkwardly clanked over towards him and swung its arms around, lacking the finesse to aim, but hammering away at Aiden’s arcane shield with each wild swing.

  “Keep it busy, Pace, I need to examine the book!” he cried as he struggled to keep it at bay.

  “Are you crazy?” he called back while Aiden dodged the dead knight’s assault. “What am I supposed to do, slow it down with my own blood and guts?”

  “Think of something! If I don’t figure out how to undo this we’re going to die down here!” That, finally, spurred his friend into action. Pacian threw caution to the wind and charged at the undead knight, skewering it in the back with both of his daggers. It turned around, flailing its arms wildly. Pacian, spurred on by adrenaline and fear, was like a jackrabbit, hardly staying in one place long enough for the unholy thing to hit.

  Seeing the old priest unable to get up off the floor, Aiden turned his attention to the ancient tome in his hands. He flipped it open and scanned the pages for anything relevant. He noticed the patriarch had bookmarked a page with a sliver of red silk, so he turned to that section and found what he was looking for.

  The arcane syllables and runes weren’t all that familiar to Aiden, but he knew enough of it to realise that the patriarch had violated his oaths as a holy man when he invoked this necromancy. The words needed a specific focus, such as raising only those present, or within certain limits such as the cathedral burial chambers. Reversing the effects was unnecessary, as the power that sustained the animated corpses was finite. However, if his reading was correct, it would be many more hours before the spirits were released back to whatever dark place they came from.

  “Could you hurry up?” Pacian shrieked from across the chamber. The sounds of metal on metal could be heard as he continued poking and slashing at the brittle, ancient armour with no practical effect.
The armoured corpse was slow, but it relentlessly pursued Pacian around the chamber and it was only a matter of time before he made a mistake and had his head removed from his shoulders.

  Aiden focused on the incantation, wracking his brain for any knowledge he might have come across concerning the dark arts. One of the runes almost jumped out at him, for he remembered it as being a key component of many incantations. Removing the spirits from the corpses might not be a matter of reversing the effect, but simply dismissing it. He recalled a brief incantation of dismissal, and figured that if he supplemented this rune, it might just do the trick.

  The clang of a sword hitting the ground interrupted his thoughts for a moment, and looking up, he saw that Pace had managed to sever the hand of the armoured corpse, sending its armoured fist clattering to the ground while still holding the sword. Pacian rolled forward and plucked the gauntlet from the ground, keeping the monster from retrieving it.

  “Let’s see how well you do without this!” Pacian taunted his silent foe, holding the blade by the gauntleted hand that was firmly affixed to the hilt. Sir Marcus responded by thrusting its shield at him, smacking him directly in the face with substantial force and sending him tumbling backwards.

  With his heart pounding away, Aiden invoked the arcane runes from memory and to his immense relief, the armoured corpse that was on the verge of once more slamming its shield into Pacian’s head suddenly collapsed, clattering to the stone floor with a tremendous racket. The echoes of similar sounds could be heard from up the staircase, indicating that the fight was over for their companions as well.

  Silence descended in the mausoleum as the dead returned to their natural state. Corvyn seemed to be staring off into nothing, and was lying almost perfectly still on the floor. His lips moved silently, mouthing words that nobody could hear. Aiden stumbled over to where Pacian was sitting against the wall.