Inquisitor (6 page)

But the undead didn’t surrender. Step by step with a stubborn persistence they kept on moving forward the line of the pale terrified soldiers. The scene that the cuirassiers witnessed could definitely have made weaker people crazy.

The undead. That word implied not only terror but a smell of decay as well. Swollen blue faces were covered with postmortem warts, teeth bared in starvation looked like predators’ fangs, paws complete with monstrous claws were tearing the air apart in a blind attempt to reach the prey, the ear-piercing shriek was so strong that it forced to drop the weapon and to press the hands against the ears not to hear it.

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Sergeant! Stand to! We can’t restrain them for a long time! – the priest’s voice seemed to sound from the far-away distance, it brought the sergeant down to earth. He grabbed the axe and roared:

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Cuirassiers! Cut the beasts! Go over the top!

To set an example the sergeant was the first to dash to the nearest undead, dove under the paw hanging in the air and hit the beast’s knee with a powerful swing of the axe. The leg broke down, the undead raised its arms quickly and fell down heavily on the ground. Without wasting a mere second the sergeant ran up to the beast trying to stand up and cut off its arms at the shoulders by immediate axe hits. The axe blade cut the decayed flesh easily without any resistance. Thick black ooze flew out of the wounds. Disgusting smell of a decaying corpse hit the sergeant’s nose, made him cough and skip aside. The undead that turned into a stump was still moving trying to stand up, but it lacked the cut leg to balance and that’s why the beast kept on falling on the ground.

Making sure that the undead couldn’t do any harm, the sergeant turned his head around looking for another target, but the cuirassiers didn’t need his help. They hadn’t been wasting time – all the beasts were convulsing and screaming in the mess of cut-off limbs. All the beasts but for one.

The last of the undead was still struggling in the magic web woven by the priests and nobody was brave enough to come closer to it. Looking carefully at that undead, the sergeant gasped. It was a kid. A five-year-old girl. Surprisingly her face was well-preserved, it was almost untouched by the grave decay. The black eyes were looking eagerly at the soldiers from the clotted locks of her fair hair. Certainly it was a beast not a human kid but nobody dared to raise an axe at the creature that used to be real baby.

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Mercy me – a whisper escaped the sergeant’s dried-up lip. He felt that he wouldn’t be able to force himself to do it either. Whisker looked back helplessly at the priest who realized what was happening and without stopping his pray shook his head to give a sign to retreat.

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Cuirassiers! Backtrack! Everybody, step back! – the sergeant roared feeling real relief and followed the soldiers after making sure that all of them had run to the safe spot.

The young she-mage made one step forward and murmuring a spell waved her hand gracefully in front of her. Fire broke out at the place where groaning undead were convulsing. A heat wave slapped the soldiers’ faces making everyone step back. The fierce flame was eagerly swallowing the bodies of the beasts that were still moving. A fiery wave overwhelmed the frozen dead girl and a plume of black smoke soared into the air.

It was a funeral pyre. A ritual to purify the poor souls that had been imprisoned in the dead bodies against their will. The enchanted soldiers were looking at the purifying fire when a terrified girlish voice started asking for help from the middle of the heat.

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Please, sir! It’s hurting me. Please, don’t punish me. Don’t burn me.

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Oh dear – a fair-haired cuirassier sobbed and suddenly cried out – She is alive! Look, she’s alive!

The sergeant was just in time – the cuirassier was about to dash into the flaming fire. Whisker knocked down the soldier by a powerful punch and shouted at the top of his voice:

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Freeze! It’s a command! Don’t move! If anybody moves a bit, I’ll bash their brains out!

The she-mage waited for a while, then let her hands drop, turned to the priest and nodded at him.

The fierce fire started decreasing, its furious buzz was replaced by a satisfied crackle. Soon the flame disappeared. There was a blackening bald patch of the burnt soil and small heaps of ash on the place of the fire. The beasts that used to be humans disappeared without leaving any other signs of their existence. The sergeant relieved to see that the beast settled in the kid’s body vanished too. Otherwise he couldn’t be sure he would stay sane. The knocked-down cuirassier started moving. He stood up awkwardly touching his hurt jaw and trying to avoid Whisker’s eyes.

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Don’t worry, sonny – the sergeant calmed him down – Don’t be ashamed.

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Sergeant. But you heard it too, didn’t you? A girl was…

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Yes, I did. But don’t think it was a kid’s voice.

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You are right, sergeant! – the priest interfered into their conversation when he came up closer. He looked scornfully at the reeking burnt area. – It was just a shell hiding a fatally dangerous beast able to tear you apart into small pieces in a moment! Sergeant, ask everyone to gather. It is much more serious than I have expected.

The priest looked carefully at the soldiers and his brethren gathered in front of him, cast a meaningless glance at the mages, nodded shortly at the sergeant and started speaking:

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Brothers and sisters! – Whisker looked at the mages at the moment and noticed that a scornful grin appeared on the grey-bearded mage’s face – The gossips turned out to be truth. And this truth is so frightening that it can’t be believed – black magic is being practiced on the territory of the Empire. I don’t know how it started and how a necromancer invaded the land of the Empire. But I’m sure that we must set an end to it. Let’s destroy the spider’s nest and get rid of impurity on our land! The necromancer is connected with his offsprings by magic bonds and he must have noticed that some of the beasts disappeared and there was an upsurge of the Creator’s power near his hide-out. So I’m sure he is preparing a welcome meeting. But it can’t stop us! None of these beasts must escape! Remember – God will never leave you nor forsake you! Sergeant, have you got any idea how to act?

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Yes, sir… sorry. Yes, I have, Father! Is it true that the undead can’t enter water?

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Partially – the undead are afraid of flowing water only – a river, a stream. But ditch water like in still ponds and in smelly bogs is not an obstacle for them. Why are you asking about it?

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The village is built close to the river and if we get aligned like a chain and surround the village from three sides, the beasts won’t have a way to retreat.

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No, it won’t work. The undead never retreat, sergeant. They have nothing to be afraid of here. The only one who can escape is the necromancer but we mustn’t let him go. Otherwise, he will find another godforsaken village in the middle of nowhere and start it from the very beginning. No way! Our main target is the necromancer. If we kill him, the beasts won’t escape. Mages, have you got anything to add?

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Maybe, Father – the mage answered reluctantly – As far as I know a necromancer belongs to living beings, not the undead. Do you agree?

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Yes, I do. A necromancer is a human. He is a person with a filthy rotten soul that deserves the purifying fire!

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Great! I hope you have already understood that I have a gift called Mind Contact. I won’t be able to use it for a long time but I can set a mental dome over the village for a quarter or even a bit longer. While I am supporting this magic effect, none of the living beings will be able to escape the territory under the dome. The dome is impenetrable… unless the necromancer has a magic gift similar to mine. Or in the case of my death or complete eclipse of my powers. Then the dome will disperse.

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A quarter of an hour or maybe a bit more… Can you keep it longer? – the priest  narrowed his blue eyes thoughtfully.

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I’m just a humble mage of the sixth degree – the mage smiled ironically – And I’m not omnipotent at all.

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That time will be enough with plenty to spare. It’s a good idea! Sergeant, we’ll enter the village in the following order – the first line is cuirassiers, the second is my brethren and me, the mages will follow us and will be protected by one more line of cuirassiers. Don’t use swords and crossbows, only axes. The order of actions is the same as in the first battle. We slow down the beasts, soldiers make them motionless, the fiery mage finishes the battle. We must provide Lord Van Fersis with a proper protection – as the dome keeping the necromancer inside the village must be held as long as possible. Leave the horses on the outskirts. They are not trained in a proper way, they won’t be able to resist fear of the undead and will become our disadvantage.

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Lord Van Fersis? – Whisker wondered.

Without saying a single word the priest pointed out at the grey-bearded mage and turned his back on the sergeant to look into his cantel bag.

The astonished sergeant scratched the back of his head and cast a glance at the mage. Lord Van Fersis. It was a very ancient and powerful clan widely-known in the Empire and outside it as well. That clan was believed to be more ancient than the Van Santi clan – the clan the Governor of the Empire came from.

As far as the sergeant remembered it happened five years ago when all the forces that remained devoted to the king were sent into a slaughter of the riot that broke out suddenly – that was the period when Whisker gained a rank of a sergeant as he distinguished himself in action – the Van Fersis clan were standing back. The Van Fersises supported neither rebels nor the king. They closed the gates of their family estate – Ashhitter, the inaccessible fortress-town – and got separated from the world by its high walls until the end of the military operations.

The king managed to suppress the riot but it took him many efforts – he had to put into action all the forces at his disposal – he succeeded mainly because the elemental powers mages supported him. If the Van Fersises and all their forces had joined the rebels, the God only knows what would have happened and who would have been ruling the Empire… Besides the king was said not to understand such a strange neutrality of the Van Fersis clan…

After getting aligned according to the plan, the detachment entered the village and immerged into the breathless silence of its streets. Despite of the high sun, Whisker was shivering with cold. The sergeant wasn’t a coward. During his long service Whisker had had many chances to lose his life and wasn’t afraid of welcoming death…

But at the moment… he was terrified.

Looking at the pale tense faces of the soldiers walking next to him, the sergeant realized he wasn’t the only one who felt frightened. Everybody was scared of the perspective to contact the world of the undead and to meet its dwellers face-to-face. The sergeant would rather find himself in the middle of a military action than moving step by step towards the uncertainty along a narrow village lane.

One more step, and a wooden toy crackled miserably under a cuirassier’s high boot being pressed into the road dust. Another step forward. The eyes were frantically scanning dark lifeless windows of houses, the sergeant became all ears to catch the slightest murmur. One more step, and his sweaty hands squeezed the thick handle of the axe… Another step, and his white lips started whispering a prayer…

The detachment was moving deeper and deeper into the village targeting the roof of the church that could be seen ahead. It was crowned by a copper flower of Ramena sparkling in the sun beams. The soldiers tried to keep the middle of the street, fortunately it was rather spacious.

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Set the dome – the priest’s low voice broke out in the devastated street like a burst of thunder making the cuirassiers started nervously.

The grey-bearded mage closed his eyes without stopping for a while, pressed his fingers against the temples and murmured a brief spell. Then found a charm hanging around his neck and squeezed it tightly in his fist.

A light breeze blew over the village, Whisker felt buzzing of mosquitoes in his ears, tears appeared in his eyes. In a minute all these unpleasant effects ceased and the sergeant relieved. Damned magic. It was strange but the sweaty face felt a blast of cold wind although none of apple-tree branches shook.

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Done – the mage murmured still squeezing his charm, sweat was dripping heavily from his grey face – Hurry up, I won’t be able to keep the dome for a long time.

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Sergeant, get ready to defend. The necromancer must have felt the magic and realized that we have cut off the retreat way. Obviously he will put all his forces into action against us and first of all he will try to kill the mages who have trapped him. But the mages must survive at any cost!