Death Knight Box Set Books 1-5: A humorous power fantasy series

by Michael Chatfield

  Jaclu’s eyes thinned as her ears lay lower along her head. “Did they have their papers?”

  “They did,” Tysien said, quickly speaking as she saw the change in Jaclu’s eyes. “I thought it would be best that I bring them back here to question them and find out the validity of those papers. We were just hit with a plague—it is strange that there was a human found among them.”

  Jaclu turned to one of the messengers standing along the wall, not daring to move so it was easy to think of them as furniture.

  “Bring them to me.” Jaclu walked over to her desk.

  The messenger saluted and ran out of the room at their top speed.

  “I also got some news on the caravan. They said that there were cultists on the road from here to Enni, that they were saved by two people. I talked to the leader of the twelfth legion. I told him to in- vestigate the place that the caravan talked about,” Tysien said.

  “Yet the first thing you report to me is a human who has papers, not the fact that there might be a cult working in our backyard. If this plague is the work of anyone, then it would need to be carried out by a group of people, like a cult. Not like three people. Are the gnome or elf enslaved?”

  “Not that I know of. There were no markings on them or col- lars to show that they were.” Tysien sensed her argument was falling apart, not because it wasn’t valid, but because Jaclu was asking the wrong questions and leading her to the wrong answers.

  “Do you have their papers?” Jaclu sat down and raised her hand.

  Tysien stepped forward and pulled out the papers that she had tucked into her armor.

  Jaclu took the papers and looked them over. “I served with Etheras. He is a good man. He wouldn’t give these papers to any- one, even if his life was under threat.” Jaclu put the papers on her desk. “Now, about these cultists—what did the elder of the caravan say?”

  “They said that they were poisoned, some kind of sleeping con- coction was added to their food. A new person joined their crew, a scout. It looks like there might have been something fishy that happened with their previous scout. They woke up in some kind of ritual; it drew power out of people and then poured it into oth- ers. The cultists said that they were part of a chaotic cult. There was a man who was glowing different lights.” Tysien paused as she saw recognition in Jaclu’s eyes.

  “The Agents of Chaos followers,” Jaclu said. “Yes,” Tysien said.

  Jaclu sighed. “When I was a young trainee, I was part of the Kreas camp. When the mutiny happened, there were people in their ranks saying that they were followers of the Agents of Chaos. They used magic to blind people, to bring them into illusions. They would fight their allies with a smile on their face. People said that it was a mutiny but it was the cultists. They were hunted down. We thought that they were all dead, but then there has been more and more rumors of them in the last couple of years and signs of them here and there in different ways. If there is a fight or strange hap- penings, it is either an anomaly or people who follow the Agents of Chaos. They say that the Agents of Chaos are not from Dena; they are coming to change the balance of power, and they are powerful. The ones with the glowing changing power within their bodies are

  incredibly strong and can twist nature itself and stain Dena when they use their power, changing their very bodies and what they are.” Jaclu’s eyes focused once again as she seemed to realize just where she was and what she was doing.

  “Take anything that is related with them seriously,” Jaclu said, looking at Tysien deeply.

  “Yes, Camp Leader,” Tysien said.

  “Tell Commander Yisnus to investigate the ritual site reported by the caravan with a group of intermediaries.”

  A messenger stepped out and saluted. They ran out of the door, right into a Gnome, Elf and a Knight who had to dodge to the side to make way for the messenger.

  “Damn, this place is busy,” the knight muttered. Tysien raised her guard seeing the human knight. “Come in,” Jaclu said.

  The door opened. Tysien’s guards were there with the gnome, the elf, and the human between them.

  “Morning, Camp Leader—well, more of an afternoon here. So, when did the plague start?” The knight walked into the room.

  “Who told you about the plague?” Jaclu asked.

  “You did, just now. I thought that people are looking at the city as if there is something to fear. The ports are closed and there are no people leaving the city. Looks like there are groups of guards around the entrances into the city. So if you’re not keeping people out—you would have kept the legions here to defend it—then you must be keeping something in. Usually sickness, or some kind of re- bellion. No news of friction in Skalafell, so...” The man shrugged. “Plague.”

  “It seems like you’re rather observant...” Jaclu paused, waiting for the man to fill in his name.

  “Anthony. This is Aila Wranoris and Tommie, son of Todd. Re- ally big t lovers—the letter, not the drink. Do you drink tea?” An- thony asked.

  “Once in a while,” Tommie started when Jaclu frowned. “B-but you know, I am really thinking that I should drink more of it. Lots of health benefits, I’ve heard, you know!” he said with an ingratiat- ing smile.

  “What is your reason for being here?” Jaclu asked Anthony. “A grand adventure. You see, it started in the north—”

  “We got a task from the high elves. We need to head to Ilsal. We’re passing through to one of the port towns to get a boat to the islands.” Aila cut him off.

  “Any other plans?”

  “I was wondering what your plan is to deal with the plague. I don’t see any of your healers going in there,” Anthony asked.

  “Anthony,” Aila said in a warning tone.

  “What? It’s just a question. The way it looks, they’re just closing off the city and hoping for the best,” Anthony said.

  “I’d suggest that you continue on your trip.” Jaclu held out the papers for Tysien.

  She took them and passed them to Aila. “Thank you,” Aila said.

  Jaclu waved to the guards and they moved aside. The trio looked around and started to leave.

  “The Agents of Chaos,” Jaclu said in a light voice.

  Anthony’s demeanor changed as he looked back at Jaclu. “Was this their doing?”

  “I’m not sure. Do you think so?” Jaclu’s eyes locked onto him. “It’s possible. Where there is one rat, there will be others. It is

  clear that they have some strength in this area to try to capture a convoy that is travelling from a frontline town to a city with a le- gion training camp outside of it.”

  “What do they want?” Jaclu asked.

  “I think you know that already,” Anthony said. “What do you think of them?”

  “I think that there are many people who can be saved, but there are some who are too far gone.”

  “And what happens to those people?”

  “There’s nothing that can be done for them. Though it’s differ- ent for the people in the city. I hope that you help out the people in the city. It isn’t their fault that there is a plague,” Anthony said, changing the subject.

  “We only have limited resources here. If our people get the plague, then how are they to fight?” Jaclu said.

  Anthony let out a tired sigh. “Just what happened while I was gone—more scared of each other than willing to help their own.”

  Tysien could just barely hear his whisper and she felt sadness in his words. She frowned slightly. He probably said it quietly so that I would hear it and then I would think that he could be trusted. I can’t let my guard down. I’ll make sure to watch him closely. He’s danger- ous.

  “Have a good day, Camp Leader Jaclu, Commander Tysien.”

  Anthony turned and the rest of his group joined him. His cloak moved behind him as he closed the door.

  Jaclu was quiet for a moment. “Tysien, watch him. I don’t think that he is here to cause any issues but he’s strong and opinionat- ed—that makes him dangerous.
”

  “Yes, Camp Leader,” Tysien said.

  ***

  “So, what are we going to do now?” Aila asked.

  “Well, we are about a week’s ride from the coast,” Tommie said. “We’re going to help out the people of Skalafell,” Anthony said. Aila nodded, as if she expected that answer.

  “How?” Tommie asked.

  “I’ll work to see if we can get the support of the traders outside of the city and try to get some support from the military,” Aila said. “I’ll go into the city. It’s not like I can get sick anyway. Tommie,

  I’ll need you to make devices that stop people from contracting the plague—masks, soap, clean water,” Anthony said. “I want you to find out as much as you can about the plague, anything and every- thing. See what the soldiers think. See if there is anyone there who would be willing to help out, if in a non-official capacity.”

  Tommie relaxed a bit and nodded.

  “If the city is closed, how are you going to get inside?” “Jump? Probably jump,” Anthony said.

  Aila remained in the camp while Tommie headed opposite, to the lake where traders had put up some tents and some of the sailors who had been intending to head into Skalafell had moored their boats close to.

  Anthony walked toward the city. Legionnaires acted as guards. Their expressions were grim and dark as they gave Anthony threat- ening looks.

  How would you feel about standing guard over a city that might have people you know inside it and they’re suffering through a plague? Anthony kept on walking. He moved up toward the city, cir-

  cling it.

  He took off at a run, crossing the ground quickly. He jumped upward and his fingers dug in the wall. He kept on running, using his initial momentum to get higher before he grabbed the top of the battlements and hauled himself up onto the walkway.

  He crouched down. The walls were emptied. Inside the wall, he could see the city. Very few people moved on the streets. Most of them looked at one another with suspicion, with dark looks in their eyes as they scurried from place to place.

  “Come on, Solomon. Let’s take a closer look.” Black mist wrapped up his leg and covered his entire body. He fell off the wall silently, falling into the shadows below as he flitted around the city, unseen and unheard.

  He looked into windows and saw those who were able to, look- ing after those who were affected. Their skin was pale, their body covered in sweat as they fought an inner battle for survival.

  “Poor bastards,” Anthony muttered. He kept moving past the windows, seeing families coming together, trying everything they could to help those affected. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, daughters, sons, and grandparents: the plague didn’t care. It had spread like wildfire through the city.

  “This is the doing of the gods! We must repent to seek salva- tion!”

  “And then there are the people looking to take control of this or see it in a different light.” Anthony sighed as he saw people giv- ing sacrifices to their household gods or to their clan spirits in an effort to help their loved ones. People offered cures: some were real and some weren’t. Others were taking advantage of the city being shut down. The guards and the city lord weren’t unaffect- ed, so there were few patrols; most stores had been closed up and left alone as the people who owned and worked at them had gone home.

  So these enterprising few were starting to look at breaking into different stores and looting what they could from them.

  All of this fell into Anthony’s eyes or were whispered into his ear as Solomon’s shadows spread across the city, creating a net that would allow Anthony to know everything that happened.

  “If this is the work of the Agents of Chaos, then we will be able to root them out, though they’re good at hiding. If it is just a plague, then I’ll have to work hard to make sure that law and order

  doesn’t break down and work to try to save as many people as pos- sible.”

  Solomon got his attention. He wasn’t capable of speech like Bruce yet but Anthony could understand what he meant.

  Anthony, who had been hiding in an alleyway, stood and start- ed to use the walls of the alleyway to get higher.

  Dave’s golden light, looking like a serpent’s scaled body, wrapped around Anthony’s body as he jumped up. The golden power condensed on Anthony’s back, turning into a pair of golden glass-like wings. Anthony shot forward, using Dave’s enhancement to allow him to fly and glide for a short distance.

  ***

  He heard a woman crying, sobbing and pleading for help.

  Anthony ran across rooftops and glided between buildings, Skalafell blurring beneath him. He reached the lady who was crying out.

  Her baby was covered in angry red patches and was coughing out, its face turning blue.

  Anthony jumped and spun, making it through the bedroom window.

  The woman clutched her baby closer as Anthony held up his hands.

  “I’m here to help.” He saw the fear in her eyes, as if he were the reaper who would take her baby’s life.

  She only clutched the baby, whose coughing only got worse, tighter.

  Anthony was in a panic. “Do you want your baby to live?” he yelled.

  “Help! Help! Someone is trying to—!” Anthony cast Words of Truth on her. “Yes, help Jole, please!”

  Anthony started to move his hands as he drew in power from the surrounding area. “Bruce, going to need your help here.”

  “You have it.”

  Anthony drew a spell out in the air. Green lines connected to- gether into a spell formation before it shot forward and landed on little Jole’s chest.

  It rested there as healing energies entered the little baby’s chest. “Hmm, there is a plague here, but then there is a curse hidden in- side. The plague can be healed, but the curse will need to be absolved.

  Would need to get a priest to do that, or find out what the curse is and destroy it,” Bruce said to Anthony.

  “With curses, if we don’t get it correct then it can backfire and kill the person. Will healing the baby affect the curse?” Anthony asked quickly.

  “The plague weakens the body; the curse increases the damage and makes it nearly impossible to wipe away the plague. It will come back. Healing those affected will remove the plague from their bodies, and relieve the symptoms somewhat, but it is only prolonging the in- evitable.” Bruce’s gruff voice sounded pained.

  Little Jole’s appearance started to improve. He started crying out again in his mother’s arms as the dots on his body died down.

  Someone had to have done this deliberately. No plague would have a curse component in it naturally.

  The mother checked her son, relief etched into her expression. “Thank you,” she said, overwhelmed with emotions. She didn’t know what else to say.

  There was the sound of a door slamming open and footsteps rang on the stairs.

  “Anya! Jole!” a scared and heart-stricken voice called out.

  Anya turned toward the door. “Davin!” she yelled out as the door burst open. She looked back to where Anthony had been standing but he wasn’t there anymore.

  “Are you okay? I heard you yelling out.” Davin’s face twisted in pain, expecting the worst.

  “No, no, everything is okay,” Anya said.

  Anthony stood on the roof of the house. He jumped off, wings extending from his back as he took off.

  “A guardian angel was looking after us,” she said.

  Anthony felt stifled. I was only able to slow the progress of the plague, not stop it.

  ***

  Keze had snuck out of her house. Her father was too sick to do any- thing and all of the servants had been released to go home, oth- er than those who were part of their household. While the others were getting sick, she remained healthy.

  The plague had always been something that her mother said to her in warning and that adults talked about with grave voices. She had been too young to care. Now she saw how much they were in pain, how tired her mothe
r was from running the city and looking after her husband. Her father, a man Keze had always seen as this strong figure, was now unable to move from bed, wasting away be- fore her eyes.

  With so few people around, it hadn’t been hard for her to sneak out. She needed to do something. The healing concoctions that they had were running low and she knew that there was a healer in the tradesman district. She was going to go and look for him to get a cure for her father.

  She wore a cloak to hide her features. As she moved along the streets, people looked at her with suspicion. She was used to being stared at, so she only picked up her pace, wanting to get to the heal- er.

  She knew the city like the back of her hand. From a young age,

  she had spent her time looking at the maps of the city, getting to

  know all of the different streets, the alleyways, the stores and stalls. When she had gone out in her carriage with her father, he had asked her where they were, how to get to another place in the city, and how to get back home. It turned into a sort of game.

  Now she could only bite her lip as she thought about how hap- py she had been to see him laughing and praising her. She had only seen him laugh and be happy when he was with her or her moth- er. To everyone else, he was cold and unreachable, standing above them.

  If I can get him to laugh again, to give me a hug, and I can tell him how much he worried me... When he gets up, I’ll bug him about how much he scared me and get him to get me ice cream, buckets and buckets of it.

  Her heart warmed, not at thinking of the ice cream, but seeing his face, that smile that lit up her heart, and being hugged in those strong and reliable arms.