by J D Franx
Brenna grunted her objection. “I think perhaps it’s better if I stay with our wizards?”
Knowing the young woman’s suspicious nature along with the fact that he was not yet willing to trust Sabjorn or Yrlissa, Engier agreed with a nod before turning back to Terric.
“All right then,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”
PLAINS OF AUSTAIN
Engier entered the valley and was surprised to see three torches and four people heading his way as the Orotaq walked out to meet them. He didn’t recognize either of the Orotaq warriors or the two witches accompanying them.
“They know we’re here,” Terric said, as if reading his thoughts. “It’s what you were thinking is it not?”
“Yes,” Engier replied. “Didn’t think they would be willing to talk.”
“They wouldn’t, normally,” Terric said. “But the Guardians are here so they don’t know what to make of your people. They’re being cautious. You should be flattered.”
“Flattered?” Eira scoffed.
“Yes,” Terric answered. “No one in their right mind would attack an Orotaq camp, let alone a war camp, yet you did. By doing so you have put them on their heels and it is not a position they are accustomed to. Believe me, no one attacks the Orotaq head on, and they do not retreat. They have come out to meet us in order to find out anything more that might help them before they launch their attack.”
“Then let’s get it over with,” Engier said, and stepped forward to meet the witch leading the big warriors.
“Jarl Engier War-Blood,” the witch said. “In only a matter of days, you have managed to acquire quite the reputation among the Orotaq.”
“Not my intention, I assure you,” he answered.
The witch titled her head sideways and shrugged. “Nonetheless, you have. They have come to call you and your people Littlekin and say you fight with a ferocity that is theirs. Gorak wants you to know that you will die with his respect.” Engier merely nodded as she carried on speaking. “Now, I am Reya Datima, the Cardessa’s second. You sent an assassin into our camp and killed my apprentice while she was connected to my power. I don’t like experiencing a youngling’s death like that, Jarl. It is distasteful, and it hurts. For someone trying not to make a reputation for themselves, you and your people are doing it very well.”
“And you cannot seem to understand that those who first entered your land are not my people. They are the Skeyth, not Northmen.”
The witch shrugged again. “A difference that no longer distinguishes. If you are from this island, you are now an enemy of the Orotaq and an enemy of the Dead Sisters.”
“Then why bother walking out to meet us?” Eira asked.
The witch locked eyes with Terric as she spoke. “We came to see how strong your new alliance is. Yrlissa Blackmist has interfered in our affairs on many different occasions but has kept her distance since the Orotaq have come to be our allies.”
Terric smiled. “If you persist on attacking the Northmen, Yrlissa has commanded the Guardians to fight with them.”
“I doubt your mistress would sacrifice Guardian lives for nothing,” the witch said with a light chuckle. “Especially after all those lost during the betrayal at the Black Arc a month past. Your numbers are not what they were when you last encountered our coven. Unless...” The laugh faded, turning into a vile smirk. “Your mistress is here for a reason. That means these Northmen have brought a new magic with them. Something different from the ancient magic the Skeyth control. That is interesting. The Cardessa will be most pleased to hear that the mistress of the fallen is here.”
“I’m sure she would be,” Terric snorted. “But she won’t hear it from you.”
Terric and two of his Guardians vanished in a puff of black smoke. Engier jumped back in surprise, drawing his axe and hefting his shield, but by the time he did so, it was already over. Terric reappeared behind the witch and clamped his hand over her mouth. He pulled a strange blade from a sheath on his hip, buried it in the base of the witch’s skull and held her tight as he jerked the dagger down. Her body stiffened. Engier winced as the blade snapped off in her neck. With a dull thump, her body dropped to the ground like a discarded doll. The Orotaq warriors suffered the same fate when Terric’s men stepped out of more black smoke and leapt onto them. They both fell dead with a broken blade in their necks, just like the witch.
“You forgot one,” Engier said as he slung his shield to his back and held his axe to the witch still alive.
“No, they didn’t,” she said, her young voice full of confidence as she removed her hood. Engier stared, unable to find his tongue. The witch was a child, no more than ten summers by Northmen terms. “They left me alive because I am a novice with no magic yet and the only one of four capable of carrying back a message should my mistress and the two warriors fail to kill you both.”
“Vicious little,” Eira began, but Yrlissa’s second interrupted.
“It is the reason you were sent with your masters,” Terric stated.
“They are not my masters, especially not the blue dogs,” she said with a scoff. “My elder sisters commanded, so I obey. Tell me your message and I shall return with it.”
“Happy little viper, isn’t she?” Engier muttered, nodding with agreement as he glanced at Eira.
“They start young,” Terric replied.
“I tire of your banter,” the novice said. “May I go? I am to tell the Cardessa and Gorak that the Guardians fight with the Northmen?”
Terric nodded. “Be on your way.” The young girl spun and left without another word. “No fear what-so-ever, regardless of age, just like the Orotaq.”
“I need some of those daggers,” Engier said. “That’ll put some fear into them.”
“No, you do not,” Terric said, sliding his dagger handle into a sheath. “The Orotaq are strong and have heavy bone and muscle protecting most of their vital organs.” Engier nodded but said nothing when Terric touched his throat and carried on. “The throat and back of the neck along the upper spine have a lot less muscle and no bone, it is their only vulnerability. Use it well.”
“We will,” Engier nodded. “Let’s head back.”
“Very well,” Terric said, but instead of moving, he stared down at the three bodies.
Eira approached him slowly and gently touched his arm. “You all right?” she asked.
The newcomer shook his head. “We have made a point of not provoking the Orotaq for many decades, especially since they joined with the Dead Sisters. Now, we are forced to take a stand against them. The Guardians will be targeted now, and not just by the Orotaq. The Dead Sisters’ coven operates in all reaches of Talohna. We will have to be vigilant now, they are not above assassination.”
“I am sorry,” Eira said. “Engier was only trying to recover the clans’ young...”
“This is not about the Northmen or the Skeyth,” Terric answered. “Our history with the Dead Sisters and the Orotaq is long and extremely complicated. They have been after a special group of magic users who were left in our charge. The Dead Sisters believe this task belongs to them, not us. We have avoided a full confrontation because we were unsure of our prospects for success and now, we may have to spend the little resources we have left to deal with them.”
“I apologize for expediting that,” Engier said.
The man nodded and Engier patted his shoulder as he passed, heading back to the fortress.
STEIIN FORTRESS
MINES
Drengr stood at Yrlissa’s side while several dozen of her wizards cast magic to shift the stone and collapsed support pillars blocking the mine’s entrance. Without the use of such magic, Drengr knew the collapse would never be cleared. The Guardian wizards moved beams and chunks of rock far too heavy for even harnessed work horses. Davur Braun and dozens of other villagers who had family and friends in the mine were helping in the hope of recovering their loved ones remains. They continually moved the smaller debris away from the entrance u
sing buckets and small wagons. It was slow going and Drengr was glad the Guardians were there to help.
“How you can tell that this is the shallowest area of the collapse?” he asked.
“Magic is abundant in Talohna,” Yrlissa answered. “Many wizards are tied deeply to the earth’s energy. The little energy I can feel from Talohna tells me how deep the rubble goes. From what you’ve told me, very few Northmen are blessed with such gifts.”
“Gifts?” Brenna snorted. “More like a curse.”
“If you use your sword to kill an innocent, does that make your sword a curse?” Yrlissa countered. “Magic is a gift, like any well-crafted weapon. How it is used is the responsibility of the one wielding it. Magic or steel makes no difference.”
The Jarl turned her nose up and scoffed but remained silent.
“Yes. There are only a few of us who are born with magic, and those of us who are, are shunned. Well, most of us are,” Sabjorn said from behind them as he locked eyes with Drengr.
“Very few are born with the power to manipulate runestones, yes,” Drengr said, ignoring Sabjorn’s implication. “Fewer still are those who can work the runes into metal in order to enchant the weapons we use.”
“Which is the only way magic should be used,” Brenna stated.
Yrlissa shook her head. “Talohna is far different. We have many different kinds of magic. Wizards draw their power from the earth’s energy as I said, sorcerers can manipulate the elements, witches garner favor with demons in order to use just a taste of their power. There are also Orotaq shamans whose magic is as powerful as their warriors are strong, but they tire easily, and even necromancers who kill or heal easily by tapping into the energy of the massive Void between life and death. Magic is very common here and all of it is used how it should be used.” Yrlissa stared at Brenna as the last words left her mouth, but the Northman warrior ignored the remark.
“Like this DeathWizard you spoke of earlier?” Drengr asked as the last of the mine collapse fell away and exposed the main shaft of the bloodstone mine. Without warning, a humanoid creature on four limbs scrambled out and leapt at Yrlissa. Brenna drew her sword and stepped forward, but the Guardian was far quicker. Raising her arm, black magic snaked outed and ensnared the spitting, hissing creature. Drengr stared in awe as she twisted her wrist and white magic poured from her other hand. The creature floated up off the ground, securely suspended by the two very different spells curling around its body.
“Intriguing,” she said, stepping forward for a closer look. “It was... It was one of your people?”
“Most likely,” Brenna said.
Drengr nodded, not sure if it was a question or not. “There could be several dozen more down there,” he said. “Can you help them? They are heroes, whether miner or warrior. The magic you are looking for... They died trying to remove it from the mine when the earthquakes collapsed the shafts on them.” He watched the strange woman as her magic slowly turned the immobilized creature. Though once clearly human, the creature was such no longer. Red lines marked the creature in a way subtly different from his and Sabjorn’s markings. The lines pulsed as if they were alive and red liquid continuously passing through the translucent veins. It’s spine had been drastically altered, curved in a way that forced it to walk and run on all four limbs that were now heavily muscled, each ending in massive claws with razor sharp nails. A mouth full of gnashing teeth and long slimy hair was all Drengr needed to see and he forced himself to look away pitying what used to be a proud Northman..
“I have never seen anything like this, it acts like a wound infection,” she said. “Look how it attacks the magic surrounding it, as if it is trying to devour it. Cabri?”
“Yes, mistress,” a young girl said. Drengr had seen her several times in the last few hours. When the Guardians first arrived, she dropped from the upper balcony and landed at Yrlissa’s side with an ease even Brenna’s scouts would admire. She was young and a tattoo resembling black vines marked her neck but the rest was covered by her armor. No more than ten years of age had passed since her birth and the quiet girl never seemed to be too far from Yrlissa’s side.
“Add a healing spell to what I am doing here, a strong one without any traces of your birth magic. Watch carefully,” she said glancing toward him and Sabjorn.
“Amaeh Kaisaney,” Cabri said. The new spell reacted more slowly than the one Yrlissa cast earlier in order to ensnare the undead creature. Bright topaz and pink energy passed through the levitation magic unharmed and entered the creature’s body. The red veins throbbed and absorbed all of Cabri’s magic. She frowned in concentration and a grunt followed when the red veins pulsed again, and more magic jumped from her hand before flowing into the creature. Bones popped and cracked as the creature began to change.
“Magical mutations,” Yrlissa breathed. “Amazing, it’s not just feeding off of her magic but drawing it out of her by force and using it for the sole purpose of enhancing this creature.”
“That’s... frightening,” Sabjorn sputtered.
“Very,” Cabri agreed with a grimace.
Yrlissa nodded as well. “The world cannot be exposed to this, we must destroy the source of whatever is causing it,” she said. Nodding to Cabri, the healing spell winked out. Yrlissa’s magic stopped in an instant and the undead creature fell to the ground. Drengr and Sabjorn jumped back as the workers around them ran and Brenna swung her sword. But again, Yrlissa struck first. Moving in a blur, black smoke trailed from her entire body and only seconds later, the creature fell dead. Blood poured from at least three dozen dagger wounds, and Yrlissa pulled a strange wooden-bladed dagger from its forehead.
“Tough to kill too,” she muttered.
Drengr pointed to his head, but Brenna answered her while pulling her sword from the creature’s spine. “Blade to the spine, brain, or beheading works best we’ve found.”
“Good,” Yrlissa said and headed towards the newly opened mine. Glancing back over her shoulder, she smiled. “Now follow me and tell me how this all came to be.”
Drengr shrugged and followed, quickly catching up to match her pace. Sabjorn trailed along closely, but Brenna hung back a few steps with Yrlissa’s men as they walked into the mine.
“We don’t know exactly,” he said, eyeing Yrlissa in order to gauge her responses. “Northmen runecasters use a very rare mineral called bloodstone in order to communicate with our ancestors, but only during ceremonies and funerals.”
“So, it is necromancy,” she said as she walked. There was no hint of disgust or judgment in her voice.
“Only in the sense that it is used to talk with the dead during spirit walks.”
“That’s not true,” Sabjorn argued.
“It’s supposed to be,” Drengr argued. “Your kind bastardized the stone and used it to raise the dead. Then you attacked this fortress so you could get the rest of it, but lost control over the undead somehow.”
Yrlissa frowned at the ex-Ama Taugr rebel.
“Yes,” Sabjorn replied, and rubbed his forehead. “Probably not my best moment. Had I known...”
“You should have known, you shit,” Brenna hissed, and Sabjorn nodded his agreement before bowing. “You have the young Rynstar’s writings. You bloody-well should have known!”
Yrlissa raised a hand to interrupt. “It matters not right now,” she said. “The guilty can pay for their crimes at a later date. So, this bloodstone can be used to raise the dead, but does it preserve the body or do they continue to decay? Do you have complete control of them?”
Drengr and Brenna glared at Sabjorn. “He’d have to answer that,” Drengr spat.
Brenna offered what she could. “The clans and our former High King outlawed its use, even for ancestral ceremonies, and ordered all of it to be destroyed.”
The ex-rebel ignored her and answered Yrlissa’s first question. “They continue to rot, yes, even to the point of just walking skeletons, but the wizard who raises them has total control,” he said. “However,
the more that rise... The strain of controlling them becomes difficult when the numbers reach a hundred or more.”
“Then they are some type of zombie,” Yrlissa commented while deep in thought. “You can control them but they’re not an evolved undead with their own willpower like a vampyr or WraithLord. What about the magic? Do you have to raise every dead body with the magic yourself?”
Sabjorn sheepishly shook his head as he answered. “No, and we didn’t know that ahead of time, but those scratched or bitten rise on their own shortly after they die. During the rune cast, anything the rune magic touches that is already dead will rise.”
“And those bitten or scratched... Are they still under control of the wizard who raised the original?” she asked.
“Yes,” Sabjorn answered as they continued walking deeper into the mine.
“Good, so it does act like an infection,” Yrlissa said, but quickly went quiet again.
Drengr kept pace with her as they walked, but said nothing further, instead he focused his attention on any threats that might be lurking in the dark. It didn’t take them long to find the intersection that led to where the large vein of bloodstone was originally cut from the earth. The group rounded the corner and Drengr gasped as the rotting stench of bodies assaulted his senses. Those tasked with carrying the bloodstone out of the mine before the earthquakes managed to get it close to the fork in the tunnels, but got no further because of the collapse.
A massive chunk of black granite the size of Steiin Fortress’s inner bailey had split and the quakes opened the stone wide, creating a large cavern in the process. The chunk of bloodstone and the people who were carrying it out of the mine were not as lucky and had been crushed under more mountain rock. Several black, death-corrupted hands and feet protruded from the collapse and were already beginning to dry out from the large amount of salt in the mine. He shook his head and offered a prayer for the souls of the long dead.
“They almost made it out,” Sabjorn stated, his voice solemn and hollow.
“You were moving it out of the mine?” Yrlissa asked.
