Shadowblade (6 page)

“And?” prompted the wizard. Urelis stifled a bored yawn, as though the proceedings were beneath him. Shalthazar poked him with the end of his shiny black staff and a slight “pop” was heard by all. Urelis yelped and held his stinging elbow.

“Forgive me, Master,” said the apprentice with seeming humility. Shalthazar said nothing and the man went on. “We are going to apply that theory to the creation of your new spell,
Corpse Golem.
”

“Correct. The
disguise
spell is powerful and will require all three of you to complete it. Are we all prepared?” he was determined to avoid a botched raid. All three nodded. “Good. Apprentice Urelis, draw the Tides.”

Urelis did as he was commanded quickly and with efficiency. Soon, all the men felt the Shadow Tide’s proximity and began to draw strength from within it.

“Apprentice Charl, speak the commands. Apprentice Hinrik, create the Sigils.”

While Urelis drew in the vast power of the Tides, Charl and Hinrik completed the required verbal commands and traced the Sigils in the air. Satisfied that the spell had been performed successfully, the head wizard instructed them to begin.

“Apprentices,” he called. “Don your disguises.”

Shalthazar watched as the men cast their
disguise s
pells and their visages changed. The men now looked ghastly, their flesh seeming to dangle from exposed white bones, red points of light illuminating hollow eye sockets. The apprentice’s robes changed with the spells of
disguise a
nd now looked tattered, frayed and bloodstained. Each man also wielded a great scythe burning with the
darkfire t
hat only a practitioner of the Shadow Sigil could create. The dark wizard was pleased. He turned his mount to face the village and enacted his own disguise to match those of his apprentices.

And then the city watch came.

Shalthazar smirked at the grim appearance he and his apprentices must present, standing atop the hill with their tattered robes fluttering in the breeze and the noontime sun glistening on pearly white bone. And yet, to their credit, the city guard was not deterred. Ten men on horseback rode out to meet the four horsemen.

When the ten men had come close enough to be heard by their intruders, they did something that Shalthazar predicted they would do. They stopped and one man strode forward, away from the rest. That was foolish, the wizard knew. The men should have charged right in and not given him any chance to ambush them or fight without honor, and that was precisely what he intended to do.

The leader of the group was pale and breathing hard, steam coming from his mouth, hanging like a cloud in the cold air. His face displayed his fear keenly for all to see and with a wave of his sword, another man from the rear of the group turned and raced back to the village. Shalthazar smiled, or he would have if his face did not currently look like a wicked skull.

After a moment that must have seemed an eternity to the frightened villager, he finally croaked one word: “Leave!” The rest of the men were every bit as fearful as their leader but they were stalwart. A trait that would serve the dark wizard’s intentions very well after this portion of his plan was complete.

Shalthazar nodded, as though he were agreeing with the man’s request. But instead of leaving he ambled closer to the villager, the man’s own horse was pranced nervously as it sensed the approach of the predator animal that was the nightmare. The man tried to urge his mount backward but the horse would not heed him. Finally when Shalthazar was close enough, he casually pointed his staff at the scared man and hissed a word of power.

A black shadow darted from the end of his staff and into the man’s open mouth. The leader of the watch began to gasp and choke and his eyes bulged from the effects of the spell that now choked the life from his body. That was the cue that the men had agreed upon and Shalthazar’s apprentices went to work. The three horsemen charged toward the group. Sensing that nothing but death awaited the villagers, the men turned their frightened horses toward home, they were only too willing to flee from their approaching doom; the apprentices pursued.

Shalthazar followed his apprentices down the hill. The four dark horsemen blazed a trail through the snow toward the village, which would now be in a panic as news of their arrival spread. Panic and fear would be flowing through the village as mothers and babes cowered and men tried to summon the courage to protect them.

Within seconds every one of the other nine men who had ridden out to meet ghastly apparitions of death, were laying in blood soaked snow. The horsemen stopped at the puny wall that surrounded the village and allowed the fear of their existence and their dark deed to pervade the populace. He would let them wonder what he intended to do, and doubtless there were messengers being dispatched to other villages to spread word of the four strange horsemen.

When he thought that the fear of their presence had infiltrated every nook and cranny of the village, Shalthazar and his apprentices stormed onto the streets, sending sheets of
darkfire
from their weapons to blast into homes and buildings. Anyone who dared come out to meet them was cut down mercilessly by a wicked scythe. A few resistors attempted to attack with arrows from afar, but the missiles always flew harmlessly wide due to the protective enchantments the powerful men used.

Finally Shalthazar ordered his men to disperse. There would be no organized resistance among this rabble. His men were not going forth with the purpose of wreaking havoc, although that certainly appeared to be the case to the frightened villagers, but to recover the bodies of the dead. There were enough dead now, the elf wizard reckoned, to suit his purposes. Slaughtering the entire village would simply be a waste of time. Doubtless today’s attack had the benefit of weakening any resolve the village might have had against joining his empire; they would be begging the Nashians to protect them.

Shalthazar’s apprentices dismounted and gathered a number of corpses from the ground. Then, they drew the Shadow Sigil on each corpse’s head in its own blood. Once they had prepared each corpse, the four horsemen withdrew from the village and returned to the hilltop.

There, the four men aligned their horses and together they chanted the words of the Shadow Sigil that would enact the next step. Some frightened villagers dared to peak from the windows of the homes that had not been destroyed to see if the carnage was over. Slowly, one by one, each of the corpses struggled to its feet leaving their life’s blood lying upon the snow covered ground where they had died. The dead men shuffled through the snow, as if unsure how to walk, and made their way to the one road that wound its way through the small village. There they assembled in a line and turned toward Shalthazar and his apprentices, and began to march. In all, the wizard counted thirty men that had been slain and resurrected by the dark power of the Shadow Sigil.

As the small platoon of dead men lined up before him, the dark wizard smiled. He allowed his apprentices to fumble through the words of power they would need to control the dead warriors for a moment before intervening. Now was not the time to practice, that would come later. Now was the time to show the people of this village that they were not safe, that the awesome powers of darkness were loose in the countryside and they should look for greater protection where they could find it. To that end, if they chose to find it in the forces of the army of New Ilian Nah, so much the better.

Using the dark power of the Shadow Sigil, Shalthazar took over command of the dead beings and marched them into the wilderness where a special place of power had been chosen. This place was an ancient burial mound that could be entered through a small opening that was just below the level of the ground.

The previous day his apprentices crawled down through the small opening and entered the mound where they made the necessary preparations for a powerful spell. It was a very large mound that extended nearly fifteen feet below the surface and fifteen feet above. Inside the circular mound were rows of peacefully resting corpses. On the floor were a number of chests with treasures and other items belonging to the buried. The apprentices created spells of
warding
around the mound to protect it from intruders and grave robbers. In the open space inside the mound, a large circle had been made with stones and markers placed at intervals within the circle. The mound itself had become a focal point for the power of the Tides.

Shalthazar sent his mind’s eye, powered by the Shadow Tide, into the mound to inspect the work that had been completed by his very able apprentices. Everything appeared in order and he was pleased.

“Apprentices, send the corpses into the mound and make them lie down inside the prepared circle next to each marker. Ensure the proper Sigils are applied to their heads.

“This is a powerful spell and we will be using it to create the
corpse golem.
This will be a large giant-like construct, comprised of mortal remains and held together by the power of the Shadow Sigil.”

“A fearless construct that will create terror in the hearts of our foes!” said Urelis.

“I will conduct this spell, but the three of you will all focus on harnessing the Tides. Once a sufficient amount of Tidal power has been retained, I will begin the spell. You will all continue to gather the Tides until I say you are finished.”

When each of the three nodded their understanding, the wizard and his apprentices began their spell.

Shalthazar felt exhilarated by the raw power that was being channeled through the burial mound and was pleased to learn that he could use one of these mounds as a focal point to increase his hold over the power of the Tides. The ancients who used these burial mounds typically created them at the behest of a tribal shaman or other primitive cleric. These early magic-wielders were unskilled in the ways of the arcane and their magic was fairly weak. Without the discovery of the knowledge they would need to enhance their skills, the primitive magic-wielders used what was available to them in nature to power their spells. In many cases burial mounds, dolmens, and stone rings, were placed at locations that were a natural crossroads of Tidal forces or other magical energies and their placement had the effect of intensifying that power.

This one had been placed near a confluence of naturally flowing rivers of the invisible Shadow Tides leading Shalthazar to believe this tribe had worshipped Umber long, long, ago. In any case, it seemed that Commander Coronus’ assessment had been correct. The state of fear under which these fresh corpses had been harvested charged them with Tidal power, and their placement inside the mound was creating a powerful vortex of energy.

Thunder crackled and rivers of the Shadow Tide flowed about the Sigilists, charging them with the awesome power. The four men became vessels for the powerful forces and soon the wizard felt the time was right. He called out the words in the language of the Shadow and traced the outline of those Sigil command words in the air.

As the elf wizard finished the words of the spell, black flames erupted around the mound. The earth beneath the wizards’ feet began to rumble and buckle and shift. Then, after a few moments of this, the top of the burial mound exploded and showered the four wizards with dirt, rocks, and other debris from within the tomb.

“Excellent!” Shalthazar shouted, laughing at the same time. He was enlivened and energized by the power he was wielding. Of the three apprentices, Urelis seemed to be enjoying the experience almost as much as he did.

“It’s done, Master!” shouted Urelis with glee. To Shalthazar, Charl seemed indifferent to it all but was doing what was expected. But the dark elf was beginning to sense fear in Hinrik and the man was acting clumsily. Although he performed his part of the spell, he did not do so without error.

As the debris settled and the Shadow Tide receded, something began to crawl from the top of the burial mound. A great head appeared, a head that looked like ten human heads fused together in a ball of flesh, eyeballs, and hair. The skin over the hideous head was stretched taught so that all ten mouths were connected as one great, looming, maw. Then the rest of the creature climbed from the hole and emerged into the wintry afternoon sunlight, and it was every bit as hideous as its head.

The body was a haphazard mass of bloody flesh and bone and pulsating organs. Bony spikes protruded from its spine, shoulders, arms and legs. Each limb seemed to be made from ten appendages held together by the dark forces of the Shadow, and Shalthazar wondered if it was as strong as ten men. From his studies, he expected that the corpse golem would grow stronger each time it fed and it would use the bodies of its victims to fill the gaps in its body.

The creature stood atop the mound and let out an inhuman roar as it flailed multiple arms in the air, testing their movement. The creature was weak, Shalthazar knew, and it needed to feed soon for the effects of the spell to become permanent.

“Hinrik, feed my golem,” Shalthazar said simply as he pointed to his apprentice. The dark wizard enjoyed a moment of panic and terror on the man’s face as he realized that his master was not kidding. Hinrik moved as if to open a portal or otherwise flee but Shalthazar locked the Tides so that the man could no longer call on them. Shalthazar laughed and activated the
compulsion
spell he had placed upon his apprentice, Hinrik’s limbs locked to his sides.