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Authors: Dem Mikhaylov

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BOOK: Inquisitor
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The sergeant chuckled bitterly. He had heard that message thousands of times – ‘Mages must survive at any cost!’ Nobody cared about hundreds of soldiers killed in a shooting attack or under a poisonous rain. Defend at any cost and don’t let the enemy come closer to a mage creating the magic. In any significant battle combat mages played the main part, as for soldiers, they were just consumables that could be renewed in any village, given a rusty infantry sword and sent to a battle-field.

The priest was right again. He hadn’t made any mistakes yet as far as Whisker remembered.

The soldiers had just set the all-around defense with the priests and mages in the center when they saw beasts at the beginning of the street. First the sergeant thought that it was a dark wave rolling fast to overwhelm and drown them in its stale water. Mercy me… there were thousands of them… New dozens of the undead continued emerging in the street and moving forward controlled by the necromancer’s unconquerable will.

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Sergeant! Right behind you!

The sergeant cast a glance back and his blood ran cold – exactly the same wave of the undead was coming from the rear. The undead had surrounded them and cut off the retreat way.

It was a trap in the trap. They locked the necromancer inside the village while the necromancer did exactly the same thing. The devastated Forest Metochion became a fatal pitfall; both parties had one dilemma – to wipe out the enemy or… to die.

The beasts were rushing to attack.

It was a mixed crowd.

Skeletons raised from the graves and wrapped in dusty rags hanging loose from their bones; almost decayed zombies hardly moving their bending legs. But the majority was inhabitants of Forest Metochion – at first glance it seemed that decay hadn’t affected them yet. The death tsunami was rolling forward the people raising their weapon. It looked as if nothing could ever stop it.

Just a dozen of steps separated the soldiers from the first row of the undead, when the priest suddenly cried out:

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Hide behind your shields! Lower your heads!

Without any hesitation the sergeant carried out the suicidal order and hid behind his shield. The cuirassiers did the same. It was just on time. As soon as the last soldier executed the order, a hot flame broke out with a strange groaning sound. A wide fiery ring surrounded the people. The sergeant felt that his hair started curling with a crackle because of terrible heat and smelled the burnt flesh. The wall of fire was raging at one-step distance. Metal shields heated in a moment, leather covers scorching by the magic heat started crackling here and there. The undead that got stuck in the hellfire immediately caught fire but they were not going to run for safety. Burning corpses kept on attacking. The undead felt neither pain nor fear – they were mere puppets managed by a skillful puppetmaster.

When the beasts came close to the soldiers, the raging flame decreased as the she-mage was afraid of burning the cuirassiers together with the undead. But the magic fire had already thinned out the rows of the intruders – the majority of the skeletons turned into dust, their bare bones with weak cords and remains of flesh couldn’t stand such heat. The village inhabitants recently turned into the undead suffered the least but after that exposure they didn’t look like living beings at all – the fire didn’t destroy them but damaged a lot – it burnt out huge reeking holes in their bodies, turned faces into dust replacing them by skulls framed by shreds of decaying flesh and grinning grotesquely. Despite their damage the undead kept on attacking and soon sealed off the people.

The sergeant thought it was as if he got into hell alive. One more step. The beasts attacked furiously the thin row of the soldiers trying to crush down the protruded shields and reach the lusted flesh. They failed as the heavy men-at-arms resisted the attack.

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Kill them! – a scream sounded over the cuirassiers’ heads but it wasn’t necessary to encourage them.

They let the axes drop down almost simultaneously and the first cut-off limbs of the beasts fell on the ground. A paw with cinders instead of fingers flew into the sergeant’s face. Whisker beat the paw back, let out a yell and sank the axe into the beast’s left shoulder. Another paw flew off spinning. Whisker knocked-down the undead by a powerful kick on its chest, but he didn’t have time to kill it as another beast was stretching its chewed-up paws to him. The sergeant started swinging his axe at random retreating inside the row. The broad blade of the axe grazed the undead and cut off its lower jaw, but the beast didn’t notice that it had lost a part of its body, it kept on attacking instead. After finding himself behind the shields, the sergeant cast a glance over the array and winced. The cuirassiers were still holding their position, but the wall of shields had already started bending slowly because of the beasts’ furious attack. A sharp shriek of pain pierced the ears, a gush of blood burst into Whisker’s face and made the world around him scarlet red. The soldier standing next to him was slowly collapsing, screaming like mad. His face turned into a groaning bloody death mask – the soldier must have been grazed by the beast’s paw, the claws left deep furrows on his face and his eyes were badly injured.

-
        
Draw him back! – the sergeant shouted occupying the place of the injured – Cuirassiers! Close the ranks!

But it was in vain. Nobody could hear his command. The undead kept on thrusting. The priests were standing still behind the backs of the fighting soldiers.

‘We won’t endure it’ – a panic thought occurred to Whisker but it didn’t affect his precise movements – the long experience didn’t let him down, the axe in his hands seemed to be working on its own, unmistakably finding weak spots on the enemies’ bodies.

‘Dawned puritans! Why are you so slow?!’ – the sergeant swung the axe and made one more undead fall down on the ground, taking the advantage of one-second break he turned back and was stunned. The scene he was witnessing made him amazed.

The priests weren’t aligned, they were standing in a circle with the grey-bearded priest in the center. He was raising his hands into the sky and his body was increasingly filling with blinding light. In a moment a long groan sounded over the village. It seemed to be outcoming from everywhere. The ground vibrated and started cracking. The soil got split under the beasts’ feet, swallowed the victims and joined again. The undead stopped attacking the thin rows of the cuirassiers and were going to retreat but it was too late. Convulsing and shrieking beasts were trying to escape the trap, they grabbed the edges of the gaps tearing flesh of their fingers but failed. The aftershock calmed down soon and nobody could identify the place where one hundred of beasts had been buried. A few undead managed to run outside the trap made by the priests but the cuirassiers who had already woken out of the trance, caught them and after cutting their legs made them fall on the ground. The magic flame finished the battle – it turned the beasts into reeking torches.

It was over. Wiping heavy beads of sweat off his forehead, the sergeant turned to the priest and choking on words uttered:

-
        
Just on time. They almost destroyed our ranks.

-
        
Thank the Creator! He didn’t miss his children’s appeal – the exhausted priest answered – We got rid of the undead. The main task now is to find the necromancer and to clean up this filth. Burn the rotten puppetmaster out! Exterminate this heresy! Sergeant, check your people, encourage them – we haven’t finished yet!

-
        
You should hurry up – the grey-bearded mage said squeezing the charm on his neck by two hands – My power will fade away soon and the charm’s energy has almost expired.

-
        
Sergeant! Have a look! – one of the soldiers shouted pointing out at the end of the street.

The sergeant looked in that direction and narrowed his eyes in puzzlement.

A human.

At least it wasn’t a decaying corpse for sure.

A stranger was marching towards them, the edges of his snowy white cloak made dry dust soar, he was holding his hands behind his back, and a friendly white smile was shining on his clean-shaven face.

-
        
Mercy me – the priest uttered in astonishment – Father Grizeris.

-
        
Is he a priest?!

-
        
No longer – the priest said through his teeth keeping his eye on the approaching man – Sergeant, we mustn’t let him come closer, break out the crossbows. Fast! 

-
        
Break out the crossbows – the sergeant ordered and set an example by dropping his axe on the ground and pulling out the loaded crossbow that was hanging behind his back. – Cuirassiers, hurry up!

Actually Whisker didn’t understand the blue-eyed priest’s answer but the recent events made the sergeant sure that he didn’t waste words. The sergeant couldn’t realize why one disarmed person could be so dangerous for a detachment of cuirassiers. Is it a combat mage?.. But Whisker could receive the answer only in the course of time.

Meanwhile the stranger kept on marching to them. Ten steps was left between them when the priest shouted:

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Fire!

The other priests standing behind him burst into a prayer to ward off evil spirits.

Seeing that the cuirassiers were not going to obey his command – they were waiting for the sergeant’s reaction who wasn’t sure what to do – the priest grabbed Whisker’s shoulder and hissed furiously:

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Sergeant! It’s not a priest! It’s the necromancer!

-
        
Cuirassiers! Fire! – the sergeant roared, aimed at the chest of the approaching necromancer and released a bolt. It whistled in the air, hit the target and sank deeply in the body, but the man was looking like he didn’t notice a fatal injury, he just winced at the blow and kept on going ahead. His smile was still shining brightly while his eyes were radiating sincere delight.

The strings of other crossbows snapped and a dozen of bolts hit the necromancer. One of them tore the cervical artery apart. A gush of blood flew heavily from the wound. Five bolts were protruding from his chest, a torn ear was hanging loose fixed by a shred of skin but the damned necromancer was still beaming.

-
        
Reload – the terrified sergeant shrieked in a different voice, he was staring at the necromancer pierced by bolts standing up easily – Fire as soon as you’re ready. Hit at random! Hurry up!

The necromancer stood up without any trouble, made one step forward and started speaking:

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My children! I’m bringing you true faith! I’m the one who… - a bolt went into his mouth and didn’t let him finish the phrase. The necromancer rattled trying to pull out the arrow shaft that had sunk too deeply.

One by one the cuirassiers released bolts and finally the necromancer bended his knees, dropped on the ground but still was trying to stand up.

-
        
Die, bastard – the sergeant croaked darting another bolt into the necromancer’s chest – Die!

A fiery ball flew between the soldiers, bumped into the necromancer who was convulsing on the ground and exploded into fiery burning ribbons. The necromancer let out a rattling yell. The sergeant couldn’t hear in that yell any pain of a human burnt alive but rather severe disappointment and anger. The burning frame managed to stand up again and stretched the fiery arms to the people. The necromancer tried to make a step, but his limbs broke down and he fell facedown on the ground. Obviously his infinite stamina expired at last.

All the people gathered together. They were staring at the third funeral pyre for that day. Horror was in everybody’s eyes. A black smoke was wreathing over the silent village. Sounds of a sad prayer were vibrating in the air. All those gloomy gossips that sergeant Whisker had considered silly fairy-tales turned out to be a horrible truth.

The cuirassiers dared to come closer to the necromancer’s remains and smashed them into dust only when the fire went out. One of the priests said a requiem. The priest with a red belt stood in silence for a moment, then nodded. It was over. Everyone was safe so far.

The paled mage let himself fall on the ground helplessly and relieve:

-
        
Just on time. I exhausted all my resources.

Nobody answered him. Although he didn’t seem to be waiting for any reply. His blank eyes were looking nowhere. Mages are also humans, they can be tired.

No matter how, but the assignment was successfully completed. They could return to the capital. Sergeant Whisker looked at the rows of lifeless houses and exhaled sadly. He knew that the face of the girl burnt in the flame would stay with him forever.

Whisker was looking forward to… no, he was lusting to get to the nearest tavern and he didn’t care about the priests’ disapproval of drinking wine.

-
        
Sergeant! Have a look! I found it in the ash! It’s a dagger. The necromancer was probably holding it in his hand. But look, it didn’t even heat in the fire! – the cuirassier with the bandaged head was examining the dagger keeping it on his palm and smiling broadly.

BOOK: Inquisitor
13.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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