Inquisitor (5 page)

The sergeant just shook his head gloomily – he had been serving for a long time and had seen much more serious injuries. He could easily say what weapon caused a wound but not in that case. His great experience seemed to be useless. Whisker just couldn’t imagine what kind of weapon had been used to make such a wound – a large piece of flesh had been torn out of the soldier’s side, as for the wounds on his legs, they looked like marks of a predator’s claws.

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It looks as if it was torn out by one pull – the sergeant said it automatically without realizing that he articulated his thoughts while he was looking at the wide open wound on Fesces’s side.

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It’s quite possible, sergeant – the priest said with reserve, keeping his hand on Fesces’s blooded forehead. – I stopped the bleeding, but he is very weak.

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Will he survive, Father? – the sergeant asked in a low voice squeezing his fists helplessly. Fesces had been serving with him for over five years. And despite subordination he was his friend. The sergeant completely forgot about his antipathy towards the priest and was looking at him doglike.

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It’s on the knees of the gods, my son. The wounds are quite serious, he lost much blood but his internals are unaffected.

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Did he tell you what had happened? – the she-mage asked coming closer. She winced with aversion when she saw a pile of blooded bandages. The grey-bearded mage got frozen behind her back, he was staring at the horse’s torn sides with great interest. The she-mage was actually asking the priest, but he ignored her getting concentrated on the soldier’s wound.

The priest answered Whisker instead:

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No, he didn’t. He’s unconscious. And he doesn’t seem to come to his senses soon.

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It’s not a problem – the older mage murmured – Actually I want to try one spell of a mental whip. We can get an interesting result. Let me come closer, Father.

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Hey! – the sergeant shouted indignantly stepping forward to hide Fesces as he felt some danger – He is a soldier of the Imperial Army! Besides he was injured in a battle! I won’t let you do him any harm! 

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Sergeant – the mage spat scornfully – Know your place. We need the data and this soldier is going to provide us with them. Get out of my way!

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Try to move me from this place – Whisker snarled angrily and pulled out the sword from the scabbard with a rasp. The other cuirassiers were standing on the same places but their armed crossbows turned towards the mages all of a sudden. Magic is magic but can you dodge from dozens of targeted crossbow iron bolts!

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Belay, sergeant! Put your sword back into the scabbard – the priest didn’t look like a humble man of the clergy anymore, he resembled a forest viper ready for the fatal attack.

The priest waited for the sergeant to obey his order, then turned to the mages and said firmly:

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As for you… Come back to your horses and keep your mouths shut.

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What? How do you dare to give us orders?! – the young she-mage started protesting but she sulked and allowed to take her away when she faced the warning in the eyes of the grey-bearded mage. Obviously she saw something important in them.

The sergeant followed the mages with an angry glance and forgot to get surprised at the amazing obedience of the generally haughty mages. Then he bowed his head and said:

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Thank you, Father.

The priest just nodded with discontent and bended over Fesces again to touch his forehead by the tips of his fingers.

The injured responded immediately – his whole body started and he came to consciousness.

He was looking around with his eyes being blank until he finally focused on Whisker:

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Sergeant. Luther was killed. These beasts tore him apart. Into small pieces. I saw it with my own eyes. First we thought that there were some peasants working in the field, kids were running around, we came closer without hiding and then it started.

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What beasts? Can you describe them? – the priest asked him impatiently bending to Fesces’s face closely not to miss a single word.

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There is nothing to describe, sir. They are the undead, but not usual… they are very fast – the soldier stopped as if he was witnessing the incident again and then continued in a firmer voice – I didn’t have time to look at them properly – it happened so quickly. I just remember giant teeth and claws on their fingers. I remember Luther’s head being cut off by one hit of a sharp-clawed paw and rolling down – despite that he was mounted! These beasts are very fast. I had time just to turn the horse and dig the spurs into its sides. Then I felt a hit on my side, swung the sword at random… the horse started neighing because of pain, they reached me, started grasping my legs… I thought I would end up like that…

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Calm down, soldier – the priest said softly – You did everything that you could do. Don’t worry about it, sleep. You need some rest.

As soon as the priest took his fingers away from Fesces’s forehead, the soldier fell into a troubled sleep.

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How did you do it, man?.. – the sergeant murmured in amazement and realizing his mistake, corrected it at once – How did you do it, Father? I’m sorry I don’t know your name.

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Church has its own means, sergeant. This soldier can’t go with us. Let’s leave him here with two cuirassiers as guards and tell them to wait for us coming back. Sorry, I need to discuss it with my brethren.

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Yes, sir – the sergeant drew himself up, he didn’t think whether Church had a right to give orders to imperial soldiers or not, anymore – Consider it done.

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Not a sir, sergeant, call me Father – the priest corrected Whisker – Church is a void in secular ranks and titles.

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Father… I can admit I don’t understand what we should expect to see there. The gossips seem to be real facts, don’t they? Did the undead come to life and rise from their graves?

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No, they didn’t. – the priest exclaimed, his eyes were sparkling furiously – The Creator is the only one who grants life! The undead rose, but they didn’t come to life, as it’s not life but a miserable shadow! It’s a ridiculous parody of a true life!

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I’m sorry, Father. So they just rose. Fesces is a trained skillful imperial cuirassier; it’s not his first battle, he wouldn’t cause panic in vain. Does it mean that these beasts can run as fast as galloping horses?

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You’re right, sergeant. Ordinary undead are slow and awkward. Only proper rituals can endue them with strength and high speed.

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Do you mean they have been raised with evil intent? Have they been raised from graves with the help of black magic? Here?! On the territory of the Empire?

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Yes, I do. I’m afraid that they were raised not only from graves. I’m afraid that there is no single living being left in Forest Metochion. But there is a puppet master who is sitting there and pulling wires to control the undead. There must be a necromancer settled in the village. Don’t waste time, we must arrive there until the sunset.

The sergeant was so shocked by the news he heard that he didn’t remember giving orders. And he couldn’t remember for toffee how he had found himself in the saddle and commanded his soldiers to set off.

There was a complete mess in his head. The gossips turned out to be eerily realistic. Whisker was subconsciously praying to ward off evil spirits, but his lips were hardly moving.

The sergeant wasn’t a coward – he had taken part in many battles and numerous scars and other blemishes from injuries were direct evidence of that. But earlier he had always had a clear understanding who his enemy was. A sword via a sword, one life against another. But what should he do at that moment? How to kill an enemy that is already dead?

The small clearing where Fesces and two other cuirassiers were left disappeared at the turn.

Forest Metochion became closer and closer. The detachment could see it when they were passing a forest that was rather sparse as peasants had been cutting trees there for their everyday needs. There was a bee yard on the left where busy bees were hovering over beehives. A peaceful scene…

In half an hour they came out to the edge of the forest. A narrow path was running along cultivated fields. Some roofs of village houses could be seen across from them as well as a logged church that was proudly overlooking the neighborhood.

It was Forest Metochion.

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Sergeant, I can see some people – one of the soldiers pointed out at the middle of the field away from the road.

The sergeant narrowed his eyes to look in the pointed direction and could hardly see several human shapes doing something on the ground.

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Sergeant, let me check – one of the cuirassiers couldn’t resist exclaiming.

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Belay that – the sergeant was fed up with the first experience. He wasn’t going to lose his soldiers anymore – We’ll advance together. Break out the crossbows! Be on full alert!

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Sergeant Whisker, if it is really what I think it is, neither crossbows nor swords will work – the priest put his palm against his forehead to look at the dark shapes in the distance – It’s impossible to kill these beasts by ordinary means. An arrow in the chest is just a trivial handicap for them.

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What shall we do then? Should we attack them being disarmed?

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Take axes – the priest replied briefly – My brethren and I will try to slow them down. As soon as I give the go-ahead, cut the beasts’ legs and cut off their arms. Don’t hit the body – as the axe will get stuck in it so deeply that you won’t be able to pull it out. You’d better cut off the neck and let the head roll down if you are lucky enough. As soon as you cut their knees and let them fall down on the ground, run away as fast as possible, the mages will go into action. Did you get it?

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Yes, I did – Whisker nodded, then turned to the anxious cuirassiers and commanded –Crossbows slug on back. Dismount. Break out axes and shields. Don’t hit bodies! Hit at the beasts’ knees, cut off their arms and heads! Come on! Rush up, spastic ninnyhammers!

The well-trained cuirassiers put the crossbows on their backs and grabbed long handles of battle axes almost simultaneously. They managed to come close to the beasts that seemed to ignore them. Soon the sergeant realized why the undead were so inattentive – they were eating. Gobbling up. They were crunching pieces of bleeding meat with a disgusting crackle of bones being broken and flesh being torn apart and swallowing them hungrily. It was almost impossible to see what they were eating because the beasts were fussing around but the sergeant managed to identify the horse’s leg picked almost bare on the blood-soaked ground. At that moment one of the beasts turned to the detachment holding a piece of torn armor in its hand and started licking eagerly the bloody stains from it.

Mercy me! Just a dozen of steps away, the beasts huddled together to eat the remains of Luther and his horse. The sergeant felt sick. He averted his gaze. It is one thing to see blood and to get used to. But it is totally another to watch your fellow soldier being eaten up…

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Sergeant… it’s Luther they are gobbling up. Mercy me! These beasts are eating Luther! – one of the soldiers forced himself to say, his voice was trembling.

The ground under their feet vibrated softly, a rainbow veil flashed and disappeared in front of Whisker’s eyes. Somebody’s tender hand seemed to pat his shoulder and all his fear and uncertainty vanished away. A prayer was sung above the field. The priests went into action. Whisker caught a glimpse of white shapes lining up, raising their arms in a gesture to ward off evil spirits and small sparkles of bright light flickering on the tips of their fingers. But soon he didn’t have time to watch them, as the beasts felt the magic influence and responded immediately – in a blink of an eye the crooked beasts covered half of the gap between them and the detachment. They were shrieking while leaping to shorten the distance.

There was only one step left to reach the line of the soldiers when the ground under their feet vibrated again and the beasts dashing to attack suddenly stopped and cried out in pain. The movements of the undead slowed down – it looked as if the air on their way condensed into the consistence of pine tar and the beasts ran into it and got stuck like flies in maple syrup.