The Temple of Heart and Bone (41 page)

“Well then,” the Necromancer
said, “of course you did the right thing. The ritual was paramount.”

Troseth looked up. The
Necromancer appeared surprised at his own confidently-spoken words. His eyes
betrayed disbelief. There was a battle over the truth of those words held in
the furrows and trenches of his forehead.

“Thank you, Master,” Poson said
soothingly, smiling in his sway.

“Still, Poson, you should have
warned me, as well.” The Necromancer wrestled with the words as he spoke.

Poson’s eyes flashed a moment of
surprise. “Of course, Master, forgive me. I sought only to spare you the
distraction during your time of preparation.”

The Necromancer’s eyes narrowed.
“Your concern is… appreciated. We shall avoid such situations in the future.”

“Of course, Master.” Poson’s
smile snaked across his face.

“How is the creature the captain
brought us?”

Poson’s face flashed a moment of
consternation. It lasted less than a fraction of a second. “Master, it does
appear that the creature will attend the infant. Given a milk-soaked rag, it
held the rag so that the child might nurse.”

Li. They were talking about Li.
Troseth’s numbness receded to loom in the shadows of his mind. He listened
intently.

“I see.” The Necromancer stared
at Poson. “I want you to bring me Baervig.”

“Baervig, Master?” Poson stopped
swaying.

“Now, Poson,” the Necromancer
commanded. Uncertainty had faded from his eyes and his brow relaxed.

“Of course, Master.” Poson
stepped outside. Within moments he had returned with the black-robed priest who
had helped Troseth with the red-cloths.

“Master,” Baervig said,
genuflecting before the Necromancer.

“Stand Baervig,” the Necromancer
commanded. “I have a task for you.”

“As you command, Master.”

“I am taking the aberrant dead
back to Æostemark for investment. I want you to take the bulk of our forces
north to the Imperial cache.”

“Master?” Poson exclaimed, shock
showing clearly on his face. His body was stock still.

“Master, forgive me, but surely
you will not go unescorted?” Baervig asked.

“Your concern is noted and
appreciated, Baervig. I will bring one thousand of our better equipped dead
along with Captain Troseth’s cavalry.”

“Master,” Poson interjected, “is it
wise to split our forces?” His swaying returned, the rhythm marred by erratic
twitches.

“One thousand troops should be
enough to subdue any minor forces that either Marynd or Sel Avrand can muster
this quickly.”

“But—,”

“No, Poson, it is enough!” The Necromancer’s
voice was commanding and his eyes were devoid of doubt. “These aberrant
creatures require further study.”

“Of course, Master” Poson
replied. His body was still; his eyes were stunned.

“You will see to it that the
thousand assembling outside my pavilion are outfitted with the best arms and
armor available to us here. If that means stripping the other dead or
scavenging the city, do it.

“Baervig, while you’re making
preparations here I want you to gather every pick and shovel you can find.
Gather up as many as you can on your way north, as well. Don’t burden the
troops with them, just throw them in wagons and keep them with the army.”

“Shovels and picks to be acquired
and added to the supply train. Understood, Master.” Baervig repeated concisely.

“Shovels, Master?” Poson asked.

The Necromancer stared at Poson.
“Enough discussion. You both have your orders. Make your preparations. We go
our separate ways tonight.”

Corporal Nalfick found his
captain sitting vacantly at the side of the road. Nalfick followed his
captain’s eyes to a dark, vacant tent outside the old Necromancer’s wagon.

“Captain,” Nalfick said, standing
at attention.

Captain Troseth did not respond.

“Captain, Sir, you weren’t in
your tent. I brought those bottles you asked for.”

Corporal Nalfick waited at
attention while his captain stared into darkness. After several minutes, he
decided to gingerly set the bottles down beside the captain. Troseth’s hand
caught the corporal’s wrist before he could move away.

“Tell the sergeant to muster the
men. We’re leaving.”

Drothspar
sat under a tree and watched as Chance approached. She was rubbing her right
knee and walking with a slight limp. Her head was shaking, and she was
muttering under her breath.

“What happened?” Drothspar asked
in his hollow whisper.

“She kicked me!” Chance replied,
her voice full of indignation.

“She kicked you? Vae?”

“Yes!” Chance looked back over
her shoulder. “Ungrateful bloody…” she whispered darkly.

“What was that?” Drothspar asked.

“Nothing.”

“Really?” Drothspar was not
convinced. “Why did she kick you?”

“I don’t know!” Chance threw up
her arms and settled her hands on her hips. “I brought her some dinner, hoping,
you know, I could calm her down—talk to her.”

“That was friendly of you.”

“It was, too. But do you know
what she did when I offered her a plate of food?”

Drothspar shook his head.

“She
spit
in it. Then she
kicked it out of my hand!” Chance looked back at the tree where Vae was bound
and cursed under her breath. “When I bent over to pick up the plate, she kicked
me in the knee!”

“That wasn’t very nice of her,”
Drothspar said neutrally, trying to keep Chance from working herself up
further.

“She’d have done it again, too.
She tried, anyway.” Chance managed to look vindictive and guilty at the same
time.

“What happened?”

“Well, I sort of cut her—”

“What?”

“Well, I certainly wasn’t going
to let her kick me in the knee again. She wasn’t playing around. She was really
trying to hurt me. So, I cut her.”

“I see.”

“I didn’t
stab
her,”
Chance explained. “I just cut her, just a little. As she kicked out at me
again, I just, sort of, let my dagger run across her shin. She shouldn’t need
too much sewing.”

“That deep?”

“Probably. I told her I’d bring
her something to stitch it with, if she’d calm down. She looks like she’s been
cut before. She didn’t seem all that concerned.” Chance paused. “You know…”

“What?”

“It was the strangest thing, but
I swear, she looked at me differently after I nicked her.”

“What do you mean?” Drothspar
asked seriously.

“I wouldn’t say she was looking
friendly, by any means, but she seemed, I don’t know, to kind of nod at me.”

“What’s this?” Captain Cardalan
asked as he stepped up to the conversation.

“Chance and Vae were having a
discussion,” Drothspar replied.

“Thank the Maker,” Cardalan said.
“How did it go?” he asked Chance. “Did she calm down at all?”

“Um, not really,” Chance replied,
flushing red.

“What happened?”

“Chance cut Vae after being
kicked in the knee.” Drothspar related. Chance gave him a blistering look.

“How bad is it?” Cardalan asked,
his voice resigned.

“Not too bad,” Chance replied.
“She was trying to kick me again. I didn’t really want her to. She’s really not
a very happy person.” Chance rubbed her knee, trying to ease the pain. “Not
very nice, either.”

Cardalan sighed and nodded. He
stared off at Vae.

“I told her I’d bring her
something to stitch herself up,” Chance told Cardalan.

“I’ll do it,” Cardalan said, his voice
heavy with the same resignation. Chance was taken aback by the captain’s offer.
Drothspar stared at the captain, unreadable.

“You’re sure?” Chance asked.

“Yes,” Cardalan replied. “She’s
my guest, she’s my concern. I’m sorry about all of this.”

“Don’t be sorry, Captain,”
Drothspar told him. “This is a trying time and situation. You’re doing your
best, and we appreciate that. If there’s anything we can do for you—”

“Thank you, Sir, but I’m sorry
all the same.” He turned to Chance. “How bad of a cut is it?”

“She’ll need a needle and some
thread. I think she’s been nicked a few times before. She’ll take care of
herself if you give them to her.”

Cardalan nodded.

“Oh,” Chance said as the captain
turned away, “she’ll need some food, probably, as well.”

Cardalan looked back at Chance
inquiringly.

“She kicked her dinner out of my
hand before she kicked me in the knee,” Chance explained.

“I see,” Cardalan replied. “Thank
you, Miss. I’ll take care of it.”

Cardalan walked away and Chance lowered
herself gingerly to the ground beside Drothspar. She rubbed her knee and looked
at her companion.

“Did you get the chance to talk
to that soldier?” she asked.

“Corporal Kelton? I tried. Are
you changing the subject?”

“I certainly hope so,” she replied,
smiling.

“I did try to talk to him,”
Drothspar explained. “I think he still blames himself for my death.”

“He seems like a nice man,”
Chance offered.

“I’m sure he is, but I think his
experience has consumed him all these years. I don’t think he was quite ready
to meet me face-to-skull.”

“I imagine not,” Chance agreed.
“How did he react to you?”

“I don’t think my form really
bothered him, except in the sense that it reminded him that I had died and that
he hadn’t saved me.” Drothspar shook his head. “I told him, again, that it was
this
Troseth
that had killed me, and that the man had probably sought me
out with murder on his mind. There was nothing Kelton or I could have done to
stop a man like that, not without knowing he was coming.”

“Did that help?”

“I’m honestly not sure. He kept
asking me to forgive him.”

“Did you?”

“Many times, and each time I told
him that there was nothing to forgive. And you know what?”

“What?

“I’m going to keep forgiving him,
every time he asks.”

Chance rested her head on Drothspar’s
padded shoulder. He turned slowly to look at her.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

She patted his arm and sighed.

Captain Cardalan approached Vae
with a plate of food and a small bag. He could see that her right leg was
bleeding, though she had tried to staunch the flow with dried grass. Her eyes
bored into him as he drew closer.

“I have some food for you,” he
told her from just outside her reach, “and a needle and some thread. May I
approach?”

She nodded her head tersely.

“Thank you, Madam.”

“My name is Vae,” she told him
harshly, “not ‘madam.’”

“No disrespect intended,” he told
her. “Thank you,
Vae
.”

“You are welcome,” she told him,
inclining her head.

“Will you take some food,”
Cardalan asked. His words were solicitous, but his eyes were hard. Vae focused
on his eyes.

“I will, after I tend to my
wound. May I see what you’ve brought me?”

“May I have your word that you
won’t attack me, Vae?”

She stared at him for a long
time. The blood continued to run down her leg and into her sandals. The food on
the plate steamed and caught the attention of nearby insects. Vae inhaled
deeply and sighed.

“You have my word, Captain.”

“Thank you, Vae.” He handed her
the small bag.

Vae opened it to find several
spools of thread and four needles pinned into the canvas of the bag. She drew
out a needle and thread. She put the end of the thread in her mouth to make it
moist than threaded it into the eye of the needle. She bent over and inserted
the needle into the flesh of her shin.

“Why do you travel with that
monstrosity?” she asked Cardalan, her voice even and devoid of pain.

“He is necessary to my mission,”
Cardalan explained. “He is—or was—a member of the family that I serve, as
well.”

Vae lifted her eyes to stare at
the captain though her head remained down over her wound.

“You knew him?” she asked.

“No, I didn’t. He was killed
before I transferred to the family’s life guards.”

“Who was he?”

“He was the husband of my Lord’s
daughter, a priest and former city guard from Arlethord.”

“How did he die?”

“He was killed by my predecessor,
apparently.” Cardalan stared at Vae’s hands as they worked to stitch her wound.
He watched the blood paint her hands and run down her calf. Vae noticed his
stare.

“He is an abomination, but his
little friend is quick with her blades.” There was a note of approval in her
voice as she spoke of Chance.

“He may be an abomination,”
Cardalan replied, “but he is still considered a part of the family, and he may
be useful in our mission.”

“His only use is as food for a fire!”
Vae said heatedly.

“Why do you hate him so? I mean,
he’s dead, I get that, but this seems… personal”

Vae stared into Cardalan’s eyes
as she knotted the thread in her leg. She snapped the thread in her hands and
returned the needle to the bag.

“I was defending the city of Sa
Ruus, when the dead arrived. At first none of us believed our eyes. It had to
be a dream, and a bad one at that. They looked quite fragile, but there were so
very many. They extended as far as the eye could see, and I am known for having
good eyes.

“We shattered the first wave of
attackers—at least we thought we had. As we advanced on the next wave, the
shattered bodies behind us stood once more.” Vae shuddered and made a sign to
ward off evil. “Many of my friends were stabbed in the back, killed without
seeing the face of their attacker.

“My Kaytin, ‘Captain’ as you call
it, shouted out my name. I ran to his side, thinking he needed my aid.” She
laughed derisively. “He did, just not in the way I expected. He told me he
needed me to get to a horse and ride west as fast as I could. I started to
protest and he struck me. ‘You are the fastest,’ he told me. ‘You are the only
one who can get word of this attack out of here. We are all dead, Vae,’ he
said.

“I left the line and dashed for a
horse, any horse. I was fortunate and found one with heart and speed. I dodged
my way through the ranks of the dead and came west. I did not escort the
Avrandian envoy, Captain. I
am
the envoy who spoke to your king. I am
the emissary that has stirred your state to war. I am the one who woke you.”

“I see,” Cardalan said, “but you
did not answer my question.”

Vae nodded.

“I did not only leave my line and
Sa Ruus to come here, Captain. I left something else, something I am certain is
in great peril. I left my own child in Sel Avrand, in the city of Sa Kuuth.”

“I hope your child is well, Vae,”
Cardalan said sincerely.

“Now you must tell
me
something, Captain.”

“I will answer if I can, Vae.”

“Why is it that you hate
me
?”

Cardalan looked into her eyes. He
sighed and grimaced.

“Seven years ago, when your
forces came west, your people took something from me that I can never replace.
I miss my wife to this very day.”

“Was she in Æostemark?”

“She was an archer in my Lord’s
service, a captain of her own rank. Her company was on rotation in Æostemark.
She was my friend, and she was my love, and she died defending that damned
border town.”

“I am sorry, Kaytin,” Vae offered
sincerely. “If it will ease your pain, know that I was not a part of that
invasion, and that I looked on it as dishonorable.”

“If it will ease your pain any,
Vae, know that Drothspar was not one of the dead who attacked your city.”

Cardalan stood and saluted
smartly.

“We’ll be leaving for Æostemark
in the morning.” He turned on his heel and left Vae to her dinner.

“Drothspar,” Chance said, “do you
feel like we’re being watched?”

“Seriously? A beautiful girl
leaning against a pile of bones and you think we’re being watched?”

Chance hit him playfully on the
arm and turned her head to look at him. Her cheeks flushed slightly.

“Not by the soldiers,” she told
him. “This is something different.” She scooted closer to her friend.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go to
sleep.”

“Drothspar,” she said in a quiet
voice.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”