Deadman's Retinue

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Deadman's Retinue Page 14

by Pavel Kornev


  “There!” he snapped his fingers. “There’s the catch! You can only burn three times your own mana! For the Lord of Decay, that’s a drop in a bucket!”

  “I see you can read,” I said, investing all my sarcasm into the words. “Now please think logically and tell me: if I could kill him on my own, why the hell would I need your clan’s help?”

  “To burn somebody’s mana and to actually kill them are two different things,” he pointed out.

  “This too,” I agreed, unwilling to argue. “But the main reason is that I will need your wizards’ support. Did you say a catch? There it is.”

  He gave me a long look. ‘What do you want for helping us?”

  “From you? Nothing. I’ll speak about it with the Lord High Steward.”

  “But…”

  Julian didn’t get the chance to reply. Neo stopped hurling rocks for Scarecrow and reminded hm,

  “You’re not in the clan anymore. You’d better keep away from their affairs. We still have the temple to wrest back from the orcs.”

  “The kid’s right,” Isabella agreed. “That’s none of your business anymore. Just make the proposition to them, and let them make up their own minds.”

  Julian hesitated for a brief moment. Finally, his face lit up. “That’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” he told Isabella.

  Her arguments seemed to do the trick. Did I say pussy-whipped?

  Goar sighed and cracked his fingers, apparently sick and tired of the impasse. “And?” he asked, staring meaningfully at me.

  “And what?”

  “Are we gonna hang around here or are we gonna get on and do something? What’s next on our list?”

  “I see,” I replied. “Nothing really.”

  “Are you serious?”

  I nodded. Trying to level up now wasn’t just risky — because no one was safe from an accidental death — but also pointless. I had very little XP left until the next level, and I’d only been a bone lord for a few minutes. I needed to take a good look at his abilities. What if I’d missed something of paramount importance for our plan? It just wasn’t worth risking it. I really should wait for the clan’s response…

  Time left: 21 days 20:37:13…

  NOTHING. Nothing. Nothing.

  Three days had passed, and I still hadn’t heard from the Spawn of Darkness. Three days of ambling aimlessly around the watchtower coupled with anxious sleepless nights in the crypt. Did you say leveling? Dammit! I just couldn’t afford that kind of risk.

  All I could do was wait and pray. In that time, the Spawn of Darkness had stormed the Tower of Decay twice — but luckily (for me if not for them) without much success. Which gave a decent chance of them actually agreeing to at least speak to me. I just hoped that the Angel of Darkness didn’t turn up and ruin everything.

  Isabella visited me a few times but had no encouraging news to impart, nothing but excuses and empty promises. I might have been unfair with her but I just couldn’t help myself. I just couldn’t lose! I had no right to!

  I so wanted to close my eyes and fall asleep only to wake up in the real world. I was desperate to leave this nightmare. Still, when reality itself becomes a nightmare, no amount of awakening can save you.

  Bastard!

  Goar must have realized that I had no need for his services at present, so he got down to doing his own thing. Neo too had disappeared somewhere: he must have decided to take advantage of the absence of the Grand Master and conquer another temple. With Julian’s support, he had every chance.

  And what about me? No matter what I was thinking about, my mind kept replaying the same thing: how about my own chances? Would I clear out the bank or, in three weeks’ time, die a final and ultimate death in both worlds? I’d be dead here and I’d be dead there, now and for eternity.

  No! That was one thing I didn’t want! Who would?

  There’re much easier ways of committing suicide.

  A PORTAL’S BLACK LINE rent the air. I grabbed at my flamberge. Still, it proved to be a false alarm as Neo walked out of its mouth. His clothes were smoldering, his face blackened with soot. Still, the ginger-haired Commander of the Order of the Black Phoenix was beaming.

  “We’ve taken the temple, Uncle John!” he shouted. “We did it, Julian and I!”

  “Congrats!” I said, really happy for him. “Won’t the orcs be back?”

  “I posted some guards there,” he assured me. “Some of Lloyd’s mercenaries and a few of Julian’s guys.”

  “And where’s Julian himself?”

  He shrugged. “He’s probably with Isabella, where else?”

  “I see.”

  After beating about the bush for a while, the boy tentatively asked, “Uncle John? Have the Spawn replied yet?”

  I tensed up. “Why?”

  “I could help.”

  “To do what, come to an agreement with them?”

  “No. I could help you defeat the Lord of Decay,” he replied in all seriousness. “Two temples produce enough power for you to be able to strip him of his magic.”

  Oh. Having to actually fight the Lord of Decay was the last thing on my mind. Still, I didn’t want to admit it to the boy. Instead, I offered the most plausible excuse:

  “They won’t let us through.”

  “I could open a portal directly to the Tower of Decay,” he unhesitantly parried my argument.

  I shook my head. “Even without magic, their Lord will make mincemeat out of me.”

  “We’ll give you a hand!” he insisted enthusiastically. “All of us — Julian, myself and the whole Order!”

  Should I risk everything on this one card? But would the XP I’d receive for killing the Lord of Decay be enough?

  Dammit! This was the wrong question to ask! It wasn’t about the XP — which would be plenty! — but about my chances. Which were pretty slim. And I couldn’t afford to die, either.

  So what should I tell Neo?

  “You shouldn’t risk so much just because of me,” I said.

  “But it’s not about you, Uncle John. I’m not doing it just for you,” somehow his answer seemed very grown-up. “The Tower of Decay will give us unlimited control! Just think how powerful its new Lord will be!”

  “I’ll think about it,” I promised, realizing full well that I’d try to drag it out for as long as possible before agreeing to this escapade. Control was all well and good but I knew of quite a few people who were sure not to like this new balance of power. Blood would flow like water…

  “Think about it, Uncle John. Think very carefully about it,” the boy replied, wholeheartedly believing my promise. He removed the amulet from around his neck, the one he’d once found in the ruins of the temple. “Call me when you’ve made up your mind.”

  I took the round chunk of black silver, swung it on its chain, then nodded.

  Neo seemed to have matured before my very eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder whether I could trust him. How far was he prepared to go and what — or whom — would he sacrifice in order to come to power?

  Good question.

  Time left: 20 days 23:23:46…

  DAYS GO BY, and you’re still dead?

  Yeah, sort of.

  My nerves were so taut they rang like guitar strings. I’d finally come to realize that I’d been backing the wrong horse. The Spawn of Darkness weren’t going to take the bait. They were too sure of their own strength. They knew full well that eventually they would take the Tower of Decay. Why would they need help from a deadman?

  The mere thought filled my heart with poison and bitterness. It made me want to run off somewhere and do something. It made me feel like killing.

  My surprise was even stronger when Isabella turned up at my crypt. Our last conversation had not ended on a nice note; both of us had said things which we shouldn’t have without the least remorse. Quite the opposite: our loathing for each other had only grown.

  Still, I managed to keep myself in check. “And?”

  “It’s not good,” she
said straight off, clutching the bars of my crypt. As usual, she was fresh and stunningly beautiful but for some reason, she appeared exhausted. Was it the way that real-life problems manifested themselves here?

  “Where isn’t it good, here or there?” I asked.

  She heaved a sigh. “Over there. There’ll be no dispensation.”

  “Why, was there even a chance of it?”

  “They apply pressure to the investigation,” she said quietly. “No one’s gonna postpone the beginning of the trial. All of our proposals are being filed and forgotten. Someone seems to be very interested in seeing the case closed. Without your testimony, it will fall apart.”

  “Twenty days,” I said absently. “Twenty days.”

  “There’s also some good news.”

  I took a closer look at her but she didn’t strike me as being very happy. “Spit it out,” I said, tensing up.

  “The Spawn are prepared to listen to your proposal.”

  ‘Yes!” I shouted, springing from the throne. “Yes! They’ve taken the bait!”

  “Don’t celebrate too soon,” she tried to calm me down. “According to Julian, the clan’s leaders are skeptical to say the least. They wouldn’t have given you the time of day — but luckily, there’re rumors that the admins are afraid of the Spawn grabbing too much power and triggering negative reactions from other players. They won’t allow them to seize the Tower quite that easily. They’ll make them pay a high price.”

  I chuckled. “All these leaks from so-called insiders!”

  “”It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t give a damn if it does! I’m already happy that they’ve agreed to speak to me! I’m not gonna blow my chance! When are we leaving?”

  “You are leaving. They’re only waiting for you.”

  I frowned.

  “If something goes wrong and they kill you…” she didn’t finish the sentence.

  She didn’t have to. I understood the extent of the possible risks perfectly well. Still, I couldn’t back off now.

  “When?” I repeated.

  She handed me a single-use portal scroll by way of reply. “Be careful.”

  “I will be,” I said, breaking the seal.

  Space seemed to curve, sucking me in and spewing me out into the reception room of the Spawn’s main residence. The momentum threw me a few more steps forward toward the closed door. I gave a mock salute to the portrait of the Angel of Darkness mounted above it.

  A doorman materialized next to me, eyeing me with unconcealed suspicion.

  “Do you have an appointment, Mr. Lazarus?”

  I laughed and disabled Incognito, then removed the mask entirely. “Yes, I do.”

  Not a muscle twitched on the guy’s face. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait, Mr. Doe. Please take a seat.”

  I nodded but ignored his invitation. Instead, I just ambled around the empty room, the sound of my steps echoing around the place. The clan’s leaders must have decided to keep a “lich’s” presence at the negotiations under wraps. The doorman stood motionlessly by the entrance, apparently neither moving nor even breathing.

  Time went by, but nobody summoned me. I started casting openly angry looks at the picture but the Angel of Darkness didn’t seem to give a damn.

  I was well and truly pissed.

  Finally, the door flung open. The doorman motioned me into the audience hall. I started down the corridor lined with the quirky statues of golems, unable to shake off the feeling of déjà vu. I’ve been through it before albeit as Isabella’s pet dog on a chain. Now I was here on my own. Not that it added a dime’s worth to my confidence. Knowing that I wasn’t in a position to make my own decisions was weighing me down like a proverbial ball and chain; the expectation of my offer being turned down burned me to the bottom of my soul.

  See if I care! I’d make it, anyway!

  This time, the audience hall was empty and dark. Ignoring the reddish radiance emitted by the slabs of stone under my feet, I headed toward the group on the thrones: the faceless Lord High Steward in his black armor enshrouded in darkness, Lady Blizzard with her face concealed by a veil of snowflakes, and the fiery Duke of Inferno. The grim statue of the Angel of Darkness towered behind them.

  A prickly shiver ran down my spine. He was the last thing I needed here! Trust him to interfere and ruin everything.

  But so far, the Angel had kept silent.

  When I’d gotten close enough and the fiery line lit up in front of me, the Lord High Steward demanded,

  “Speak your plea.”

  I briefly recounted what I’d already said to Prince Julian and fell silent, looking expectantly at the clan’s leaders.

  They exchanged glances.

  “Are you sure you’re up to it?” the Lord High Steward asked.

  I removed my mask and replied with the vilest of smiles. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have come here, would I?”

  “What do you want for your part in the battle?”

  To test the waters, I began with the easiest of my demands. “I want to be removed from all black lists.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “Also, I want one item of my choice from the Lord of Decay.”

  “Provided it’s got nothing to do with tower control,” the Duke of Inferno hurried to add.

  “Good enough,” I said. “Also, I’d like to become a master in Dance of Darkness.”

  The Lord High Steward nodded condescendingly. “That’s also possible. Our rogue will teach you.”

  “And a master in Shadow Walking!”

  But this last demand was rejected:

  “Our clan doesn’t accept vampires. It’s your own job to find them,” Lady Blizzard said in an icy-cold voice, losing patience. “Is that all?”

  “Not really. I also want a cut of the loot.”

  “You’ll get our standard share,” the Lord High Steward said, then turned to the others. “Any questions?”

  The Duke nodded. “I’ve got one. According to the spell’s description, your own power won’t be enough to overcome the Lord of Decay. How exactly can we pump you up with energy before the battle?”

  Without saying a word, I copied the description of the Retinue skill and forwarded it to him. “I’ll need a support group who will have to swear their allegiance to me for the duration of the battle. A couple of wizards just won’t cut it, I’m afraid: I’ll need all the energy I can get.”

  The Duke paused, studying the text I’d sent him, apparently looking for a catch. He must have found none because he rose and walked down the steps from his throne. His fiery figure breathed heat.

  “Let’s check it out.”

  I put the mask back on and shrugged. “What exactly do you want to check out, All-In or Retinue?”

  “Both,” the Duke snapped his fingers.

  Three figures clad in dark cloaks appeared in the room. All of them sorcerers; all of them players.

  “You know what to do,” the Duke snapped at them.

  The eldest of the three sorcerers cleared his throat. “Sorry, but I don’t see any suitable tools in my interface.”

  “Of course!” I chuckled, faking nonchalance. “One moment.”

  Had I been alive, I’d have already been bathed in cold sweat.

  How was I supposed to add them? Adding the undead had been easy. Ditto for the NPC mercs who’d simply been added automatically. But how was I supposed to add real players? How was that supposed to work?

  Having said that…

  Retinue

  As I activated the skill, it sent automatic requests to the selected players.

  The sorcerer hesitated. “Do you want us to fall under the command of… of Mr. Doe?”

  “That’s exactly what you’re here for!” Lady Blizzard retorted.

  Her icy rebuke had the effect of a whip on them, making me three vassals richer.

  The eldest of the three sorcerers froze momentarily with his eyes shut. “I can see now,” he finally announced. “Yes, we
can share our energy with him.”

  The Duke nodded, then turned to me. “Are you ready?”

  “Who do you want me to strip of energy?”

  “Myself,” the Duke waved his hand in the air, summoning a fire whip which drew a complex loop in the air, barely missing my legs.

 

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