"I lost hope before," Kras told them. "I had lost hope, and in truth, I was no better than you, Nurias. But this man's words change that. I finally think this might be the answer we are looking for."
Kras walked around to where the man lay. Attendants rubbed scented oils across his head, a rare medicinal use considering the scarcity of such items, but he assumed this man’s office had some weighing in on the use of them.
They followed just behind the lord, staring at the rather large man of the Holy Order. This was their leader, or so it was said.
Nurias had watched them for so many years as the so-called stalwart Knights of the Holy Order rode across the land, vomiting their spiel about how one must honor the two gods. The sigil of their order was a lone mountain with a star to either side of the peak.
He had heard it mentioned that people believed the world was an actual mountain and the stars were the gods who kept the mountain together, or some drivel like that.
Nurias noticed that the man’s injuries were indeed severe. From the bleeding bandages on his upper right chest to the massive gashes on his lower legs that were constantly being rinsed, it was a wonder the man was still alive.
One of the attendants looked up to the lord. "It is good you have come. I do not think he will last overnight."
The man lifted his hand, waving off the attendant. "Do not worry about my life at this point. There is hope now. I had wondered when I was injured, but now I have told many of the great secret.”
"I believe I have found two up to complete such a task," Kras said.
The old man looked over, staring at Nurias and Lorlank and then back to Kras. "These two?"
"Indeed. The tall one was of your order at one time. The other is a Remnant. The captain led many men in the battle of the northern plains."
Nurias closed his eyes at the sting of the lord's words. He did his best to keep that memory from his own mind, and it had been brought up too much already today. But the old man wasn't too intrigued by Nurias at first, but by Lorlank.
"So, we have one cast from the True Light of the two gods?"
"I left the order," Lorlank corrected him. "I still believe in the two gods; I just don't believe the order had the right to continue leading the people astray from what I felt was the true path. The order was not a holy one."
Kras jerked his head with a look of terror toward Lorlank before looking back down to the old man.
The old man smiled. "It may surprise you to know that I agree with you. I am no stranger to what some of our brothers did to the people. Using their religion as a weapon to ostracize and attack those around them, and worse, to take advantage of those claiming it would benefit them before the gods if they bestowed sexual acts and favoritism to our knights, but we are both still of the order. I've excommunicated many even in recent years for much worse than I mentioned here. The way I see the truth now at the end of my life is that you, you are what the order should have been."
The old man began to cough, and as he did, blood ran from beneath the bandages on his chest. The attendants rushed to press more bandages down as the man struggled to breathe. He lay back down to close his eyes, and it seemed that a deep relaxation overtook his body. Nurias noticed that he moved his finger in a summoning motion to those around him. The lord, Nurias, and Lorlank moved in close as the attendants backed away.
"My final time has come. I must tell you as I have mentioned to others, before we attempted our flight, I discovered the ancient art the elves used to enchant their blades. It was never a type of metal or some arcane magic as we once thought. We of the Holy Order took great care in obtaining elven weapons for our own use, even paying large sums of money to the elf lord to obtain such items to banish the dead that crept up from the small amount of necromancy still in the world. We thought they went after the elves first in their attacks because they saw them as the greater race, but in truth, they did not even take the bodies of the elves to use as undead. The necromancers gave a sign.
“I have discovered the secret is a plant, a plant that grew in the center of their woods. Do you not wonder why the kings of the land attempted to go to the elven ruins before the fall?" He looked to Nurias. "You were at the battle of the northern plains. You were there as the elves fled and our armies marched forward. But what I have learned is that it was not an act of cowardice that made them flee. They knew the truth, and indeed, I am sure some of our kings knew the truth. They hid the last of these leaves and attempted to save them from the undead. The elves themselves were almost completely invulnerable to be turned undead because as often as we drink water, the elves ate this plant. It grew in vast numbers within a protected realm and was an integral part of their culture well before you and I were even a thought to our parents, or likely their parents or their parents beyond them. I, um—"
The old man suddenly coughed. Blood sprayed from his mouth, and his body began to convulse. No one knew exactly what to do for a few moments, and then the convulsions subsided. The man opened his eyes but did not speak. Nurias noticed that his skin color had changed drastically just in the time he had been in the old man's presence. It was blotchy, and his fingertips were beginning to turn blue. His breathing was labored, and he seemed to be having trouble inhaling.
"Nurias, yes, I know your name. No weapon of our creation can kill the necromancers. Not even a blade of elven design can kill them. But I have discovered there is one last place . . . the ruins of Elmyreh. Once, there was a college of elven magic. It escaped the great fires that destroyed most of the lands. There is a place, revealed to me in prayer, that holds what we seek. It is there the elves hid the last of the sacred plant. Obtain it, guard it well, and return it here. Those who cared so well for me in my short time within these walls can construct a potion capable of destroying the bindings within the necromancers themselves. Even the worst of scenarios where it is not possible for a potion to be contrived, if the pedals of this plant itself are forced into an open wound of a necromancer, the necromancer will die. I do not know how much of this plant is there, but even a small amount might be grown from a sample or perhaps there are dwarves who can extract it even further."
"I know this place called Elmyreh," the lord said.
"We all know this place," Nurias said. "Are you telling me that the way to defeat the necromancers has been hidden in the ruins of that castle?"
The old man slowly nodded his head. "Yes. As I understand what little information I was able to gain from my prayers, it is protected and hidden from the undead. If you are of the energies of a necromancer or a necromancer yourself, you cannot find such a place. Go there, go to the ruins. I know what I ask, but I will die now knowing there is some hope for the living."
With that, the man's breathing stopped. The attendants nearby bowed their heads, and Nurias looked at Lorlank. "So?"
"I have no issue going. I'm just curious about you."
They looked at the old man and stared at his body.
"Prepare a fire. We’ll burn his body outside immediately," Kras announced.
Several attendants departed, while another two covered the old man in a sheet.
Kras looked at Nurias and Lorlank. “As he knew you, I know. I also know a bit of your history, Nurias."
"Oh?"
"I know why you're angry; your anger is beyond that of most. I make a point to learn about all within my walls. It did not need to happen as it did. But use that anger to drive you forward."
"You speak to me as if I am a servant. You know nothing of me. They died for some sorcerer who claimed she knew a way to defeat the necromancers. They were burned alive!"
Nurias balled his fists, and if it had not been for Lorlank grasping him on the shoulder, the rage he kept hidden deep within himself would have lashed out.
"I do not expect you to have any solace in my words, but just know, there've been many desperate acts to save our own houses and people. I know not all lords of every type of holy or good stature, but I killed my own king to save
the lives of my fellow men. I do not claim to be holier or better than you or anyone else, but if people like us do nothing, then we should all simply fall upon our swords now. I am like you, Nurias."
Nurias heard what the lord said but did not immediately respond.
"We're not alike. Your wife and your child were not dragged away and burned before you in an attempt to appease some god."
"They are dead, just like yours. My point with all this is that if you are not willing to do this, then I have no one I know who can. Most of my guards are not warriors such as you and Lorlank. I have very little contact with anyone outside this town. Fate delivered that old man to this shamble of a hall,” he said, opening his arms to the ceiling above. “I cannot help but think it was for a reason."
"Careful now, my lord, you’re starting to sound religious. He wants to go. If my friend here does not want to go north, I will go alone. Well, not exactly alone, as the young lad I’ve been training up with a bow wants to go on an adventure with me. We should get going now.”
"I haven’t exactly agreed to this yet," Nurias said.
"Yeah, but you did. You just haven't said it. You’re not going to let me go alone." Lorlank turned and took the glass of what appeared to be some form of alcoholic drink and slurped it down before putting the cup back down. "I'll go get him. I will expect some form of mount," he said, looking to Kras. "I assume you have something? Wait, I know you do. You get them to the gate, and we’ll be sure to take care of your scaly friends."
"I will have my men deliver them to the northern gate."
"That's a good lord."
"If we do this, what else can you guarantee us?" Nurias asked.
"Besides satisfaction of finally killing one of these evil creatures? Not much. You know what we face, but I can see your own place here, and security as long as it remains. We must unify against these creatures, and if we’re successful, perhaps we'll have a reason to actually unify. We will finally have hope."
Nurias had heard a few spiels of “hope” and “change” before the end of the world that once was. He didn’t care for it. But killing one of those necromancers would decimate the undead they had summoned. It would spur the race of men to some form of security. It would start a change in the world. He would enjoy that.
"Fine. We'll do it. I am not too sure about taking anyone other than my friend Lorlank, but I’m also not sure about going to the elven ruins."
"If you need a map, I have one," Kras said, giving him a parchment.
"It is not that hard to get to that place. If all goes well, I should be able to get there by nightfall of our second day. The dangerous time will be the nighttime hours in the dead lands, but as long as we do not rouse too many, I can deal with whatever comes from the old woods. But I do have one question. How did the old man get this information? Surely you do not believe he had some divine reveal by the silent gods . . . It is a random piece of knowledge to obtain just before he was attacked."
Kras’s gaze went to the ground and then back up to Nurias. "He managed to capture a necromancer."
"He captured one of them?"
"Yes. I do not know how—he never went into details—but upon capturing this necromancer, he was able to pull the knowledge from his mind. I had heard that the Holy Order had methods for extracting information, but I understood it was forbidden. The times change what is and what is not forbidden. The greater fear is if that necromancer knew this information, it will likely send agents of its own to watch for others to find the place. They are likely already headed there. Perhaps they are waiting."
Nurias glared at Kras. "Anything else you want to tell me, since now we’ll likely be dealing with the scourge itself?"
They turned to walk away, genuinely angry by the lord's omission up to this point.
"I can send you more men, a few extra hands to help hold your ground in the event you are attacked."
"Keep your men. I'd rather not be carrying extra supplies for the enemy to eventually use against us. You said it yourself, your men are worthless."
Part 2
As Nurias left the king’s hall, he headed back to his and Lorlank's small tent. If any of them had one bit of privacy, it was within their own tents. There was an unwritten rule that one did not go into another hovel, tent, or sleeping area. Doing so would likely result in confrontation and in Nurias’ case, the trespasser burning upon a pyre. While outright violence was unacceptable, there was a rule that if a person found someone uninvited in their area, it was perfectly acceptable to cut their throat. They had only dealt with that once before people figured out they were not to be messed with.
As they entered the tent, he noticed that Lorlank had already gathered his own belongings. Nurias had very little, as did most, but while others had sacked places for valuables, his small sack of personal memories was all he held on to. Well, except for the longsword at his hip. He paused, grasping the hilt of the sword from his time as a captain. Its hilt was still emblazoned with a small amount of jeweled silver from the time when the metalsmiths still did such things. Not that this was crafted anew for him alone. He was awarded it because the many high generals who bore it before were killed.
He took a last look, ensuring there was nothing that had been left behind by either of them. When he about to leave, he reached into a small pouch of belongings and pulled out a stone figure of a tree. He rubbed his fingers over the black etchings in the stone and remembered his wife and child. The tree itself was given to him as a sapling by his wife to symbolize their marriage. They planted it together on the outside hill near their home. On their fifth anniversary, and around the birth of their child, he had two stones crafted and etched with an image of the tree at its current state. He wanted it to be something for them to laugh about when they were much older as their grandchildren played in its branches. He pushed back the tears and exited the hovel. He saw her face and forced her smile down into his mind as he dropped the stone back in the bag. She had loved this simple gift. She had been holding it when they’d burned her alive.
He began toward the north gate, ditching the gaze of several onlookers who, now that it was obvious he was leaving, rushed to throw their own things into the tent and claim it. In the small amount of time they had been town, many more refugees had found their way here. He’d seen this happen before. In those cases, the town soon became unstable from lack of supplies. Even the desolation that was the world now, laziness was still one of the worst plagues of men. It surprised him how so many people could stay alive by doing so little. There were always people willing to eat and drink, and very few willing to go out and search for more. In truth, Nurias wondered how much longer the race would live on.
* * *
He finally made it to the gate, seeing now that Lorlank had brought along the young boy who had taken a liking to him. Nurias preferred to avoid having any extra companions, mainly because it was more to deal with and listen to. Lorlank had taken to the orphan boy and taught him how to shoot a bow. He wasn't bad, but he was no elf.
"Nurias, I can't wait to finally get to go on an adventure with you," the boy said.
“Yes, I am sure. I can't remember, how old are you again?"
"I'm coming up on my fifteenth year of life, sir."
"Fifteen and we’re taking him to what could be one of the most dangerous times of our own lives?" Nurias said to Lorlank.
"It's the best time for him to really learn if following us is what he wants. He's got his bow and quite a few arrows. The fact that he has made progress in the mastery of a rarer skill should stand for some level of respect, Nurias. It seems he found books on fletching and well, reading itself is difficult for most people. I think you will like him."
"I guess. Just don't get in our way, and make sure you send the arrows into the enemy, not into us."
"Aye, do not worry, sir. I assure you my aim will be deadly."
Lorlank laughed. “I can’t shoot for shit. That’s why I use an ax!"
About that ti
me, several small gates off the side of the main gate opened, and their mounts for their journey had arrived. Lord Kras had indeed provided them mounts, and though Nurias well knew the lord had such creatures, he was a bit surprised they appeared to be in such good health. The creatures were large lizards, kin to dragons but flightless. Drak lizards was their real name, but most knew them as Sand Teeth, named for their habit of lying in sand dunes for unexpecting adventurers to wander too close. But it was a creature that killed for fun and boredom. It did not eat flesh, but hot rocks. Its body had evolved in such a way that it needed very little subsistence, and its own purpose before the coming of the dead was to tend to the eggs of larger dragons. Being that there were no more large dragons, the incredibly social creature took to protecting humans, considering their last task included saving many young children and elderly back during the great war.
The Drak lizards hissed as Nurias and the others approached, and one of them sniffed at Nurias.
“Hello, friend. I do hope you are ready for a bit of a journey.”
Once they mounted and several guards moved quickly out of their path as they went to the gates, one guard shook his head as he stared at them.
“A bit crazy to be riding off. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to go wandering outside.”
"No, I'd rather not go outside these gates,” Nurias said. “But it is hard to feel safe here, too, with those like yourself watching out for us.”
The young man seemed annoyed. “I’ve been trained by the lord himself. I’m a warrior. I am ready if the enemy comes.”
"That's cute," Lorlank said. "It will be a sad day for you when you discover that these walls and this gate are not enough to stop the dead. They probably didn't tell you that when you agreed to guard this place. They will simply leap over the top, likely onto you.”
The man suddenly had a look of terror upon his face, and they smiled as he passed.
Ragged Heroes: An Epic Fantasy Collection Page 39
