Cathexis: Necromancer's Dagger (61 page)

The greedy thief took her to a dark slimy
alley and turned up inside. “This here’s a
shortcut
; the good hotels are just at the other end,” he
explained over his shoulder.

RIveK followed him in without pause and
watched him glance back over his shoulder as he checked to see if
she was really going to come into this filthy alley.

He could not believe his good luck.

When they were centered in the alley he
suddenly spun and hissed his words in a low voice, “I have a knife,
if ya scream I’ll cut ya. Give me all yer jewelry and round and
I’ll let ya go,” the little thief promised.

RIveK looked into his eyes and smiled as she
said, “Is that what you’d really do?” He started to say 'yes' when
he found his mouth had turned traitor, against his desires he said
what was going through his mind. “No, after I get yer jewelry and
round I’m gonna rape ya in this alley.” His mouth had suddenly
acquired a mind of its own; he was so shocked he nearly choked.

“So you want to rape me in this foul slime,”
RIveK said, keeping her eyes pinned to his while smiling
wickedly.

He stepped back a pace as fear suddenly
replaced lust and he choked out his words, “How, how did you make
me say that?”

“I can make you do many things, for example,
you can’t move,” the necromancer explained while still looking
deeply into his eyes.

Looking back into her unblinking gaze he
could see purple energy flickering within her pupils. The thief
tried to leap back and run, but he found that his body really was
frozen, he could not even scream.

Looking into his eyes the necromancer moved
closer. She brushed flame red hair to the side and turned slightly
to give him a view of her exposed brain. “Do you still want me?”
she said, amused at the thought of the thief wishing to rape her
body. She made a mental adjustment and dropped her insubstantial
clothing to the ground. She stood naked before him with her lush
body displayed.

“I’m yours; just tell me about the
strangers. Who were the new marks you spotted this week? I’m
particularly interested in a woman, a beautiful lady as a matter of
fact. She may have had a child with her at the time. You like the
pretty ladies, don’t you? So did you see any new women in town?
Perhaps she was hiding in a cloak and staying in the shadows? Did
any of your friends tell you of such a mark?”

She took his hand and placed it over her
left breast, the hand stayed where she put it, but he felt nothing.
He could see his hand on her white skinned bosom, but felt only air
beneath his frozen fingers.

“Yes, a woman, I saw her,” his mouth said,
repeating his thoughts aloud.

“Where did you see her?” RIveK asked.

“She sat with a man, in a tavern. I stole
his large purse,” he said repeating the thoughts her questions
brought up. “They hired my friend
te
guard them on their trip.”

“Where were they going? When did they
leave?” she prompted.

“Myrnvale, they left six days ago,” he
answered.
“Why am I telling you this?”
he wanted to scream,
but only the answers to her questions would come out.

RIveK suddenly stepped forward and the
thief's rigid hand stayed where she had placed it, passing right
through the projected image of her body. His elbow now seemed to
end as part of her chest. She reached forward with her right hand
and her insubstantial fingers went into his head. There was a
blinding moment of pain and then the man known as Fingers
collapsed. His body lay dead in the slimy gutter that had been his
life.

“Thank you Fingers, you were a great help,”
the words faded out toward the end.

Then the alley was empty of human life.

SCorcH sat before his campfire deep in
thought when RIveK’s spirit arrived at the prearranged time. The
small campfire burst into a shower of sparks and flames as RIveK
purposely emerged from the Dark Plane with explosive energy. Her
image stood clothed in flames up to her waist.

“I fail to see the need for your theatrics,”
the
burn-faced
necromancer noted,
his body remaining still.

“That’s one of your problems, SCorcH, other
than your toasted face you’re very boring. You don’t do anything
with flair,” she replied.

“I get things done,” he lisped through his
blackened teeth, uninterested in her opinion.

“So do I, in
fact,
I have some information that you need. All you have
to do is make use of it,” RIveK explained.

“What is it you found?”

“Turn toward Myrnvale, it's only two days
ride. I’m fairly sure the sorceress went there recently and I’ll
know for sure by tomorrow night.”

SCorcH was mildly surprised. “You did well;
I didn’t think you would find traces of her so quickly. How did you
do it?”

“Some things are only for me to know, but I
can tell you that I did it with flair!” As RIveK ended her speech
with that word she stepped back and into the Dark Plane through the
bridge she had left open, effectively disappearing from his sight
and snuffing out his campfire completely.

Back at Ice Tower RIveK's body stirred as
her spirit returned to its vessel. She got up, unlocked the chamber
and went to announce her departure for her demesne. She professed
her intention to orchestrate the end of the Autrany resistance
movement, but when she left SKartaQ’s Fortress she headed for
Myrnvale while killing horses with her speed.

“Sit back down Hetark, you don’t even know
where to find Elizabeth,” Poison said to the knight seated across
from her in the Myrnvale restaurant. Morning light spilled through
a nearby window lighting the room where they were eating
breakfast.

“You know she never actually told you that
she would be here, just that she would have instructions. If you
finish reading the message she asked me to deliver you’ll see what
she wants you to do.
In fact,
why
don’t you start over and read the whole thing this time?” Poison
suggested.

Hetark was furious, but it was true that he
didn’t know where to go to find Elizabeth, so he sat back in his
chair and read the entire message; it said:

“Dear Hetark,

I’m sorry that I had to leave without
telling you, but you would have tried to stop me. I’m going to join
the Riond Mountain Bandits while masquerading as Poison. You knew I
was studying her fighting techniques, but at the same
time,
I was studying her accent,
manners,
and style. In short, everything that
would let me pass as Poison. Look at her Hetark, with her eye
healed she and I could nearly pass for twins. I even changed my
hair and eyes to match her colors. Finding her was a gift from
G’lan. She knows that I am using her identity and armor and she
thinks I can pull it off, so don’t worry.

I need to join the bandits on their terms so
that I can gain their loyalty. They won't trust Lady Ardellen
without proof that she was not like the usurping nobles who took
control of their country by force and ravaged it unmercifully.

I need to join them before they can join me,
and I need to weed out the evil men among them. It’s the patriots,
the homeless, the refugees of destruction which I
must
rebuild into an army. This can only happen
from the inside. When I first sought a tough woman to emulate I had
intended to study them so that I could pass as a bandit, but with
Poison's uncanny similarity to my
face,
I decided it was even better to become Poison. She
has a reputation that I can make use of to gain their trust.

Please stay with the real Poison in
Myrnvale; I will be sending word to you as soon as I am in a
position of authority. It could take a little while, so be patient.
If I haven’t contacted you within two months then you must decide
how to best serve Michael. Please try and understand that I had to
do it this way. Poison swore an oath of secrecy when she promised
to deliver this message, so she couldn’t have told you even if she
wanted to, so don’t blame her.

This is important enough to warrant the
risk, my son will need an army when he comes of age and I intend to
have one ready.

With apologies and affection,

Elizabeth.”

When he lowered the note Poison spoke, “She
warned me that you wouldn’t be happy about her leaving you behind,
but remember, she’s a big girl. Other than myself I don’t know
anyone who can handle herself better with a knife. I taught her
everything I know, literally. And you know what she is,” Poison
added in a quieter tone.

“Don’t say it like it’s an affliction,
Poison,” Hetark muttered, deep in thought.

“I didn’t mean it that way.
Anyway,
let’s just sit tight as she instructed.
And one more thing, stop calling me Poison until she resumes her
identity. The bandits may check on her and two Poisons within one
town would be one too many,” Poison explained.

“Then what should I call you?” he asked.

“Marinda,” she replied quietly.

“
Marinda,
”
he said with a single raised eyebrow. Hetark didn't think the
pretty name fit Poison very well.

“Be careful, Marinda Poister happens to be
my real name,” she said, danger glaring from her squinting
eyes.

“Of course, Marinda, I can’t imagine where
you picked up that other name when you have such a sweet
personality," Hetark replied, tongue in cheek.

Poison bristled, but then suddenly smiled as
she said, “Perhaps I deserved that, I haven’t been exactly cordial
to you since we met, have I?”

“I think I’ll leave that one alone, any
answer could get me in trouble,” Hetark answered with a slight
smile.

“Come on, I want to do some shopping,
shopping like I’ve never done before! I want to buy a dress,” she
said and got to her feet.

Hetark was speechless.

Elizabeth’s question of whether she was now
a member of the bandit group hung in the air as she waited with
raised eyebrows for Wernok to answer.
Instead,
he smiled, and with a tilt of his head and a
jaunty sweep of his arm he invited her into his cabin.

The cabin was small and cluttered with
clothes and equipment. An unmade bed sat in the corner. Two weapon
racks held several spears, swords and other instruments of war, all
in disarray. A pile of rusty metal armor occupied the corner
opposite the bed. Across the room was a desk with two chairs on
either side. A dagger held down a stack of unrolled parchment that
appeared to be old messages.

He took the seat behind the desk and
motioned her into the other.

“In answer to your question a moment ago,
assuming your story holds up, yes you’re in,” Wernok told
Elizabeth. “But command positions are not so easily obtained as
simple membership.”

“Then how do I become one o’ yer officers?”
Elizabeth asked, taking care to keep to the commoner accent.

“Nostrils was a good fighter, but not great,
so don’t let your victory go to your head. Around here you ascend
rank by challenge and Nostrils has been defeated by corporals on
two different attempts. He had not made his third challenge yet,
you see he was concerned that he would be defeated again. The third
challenge is always the last. If he’d lost he would be killed by
the corporal. We can’t be wasting our time on inept warriors who
aren’t willing to stay in their rightful place. If a warrior isn’t
good enough to win he shouldn’t challenge,” Wernok explained.

“Then all I need do is challenge one o’ yer
lieutenants and beat him, correct?” Elizabeth asked. Then she tried
to watch his thoughts while he responded and found a disconcerting
fact, Wernok had a mind shield which closed his thoughts to her
probing.

Now where did he get a shield?
she
pondered
, These things are popping up a little too often for
simple coincidence,
she thought.

“That’s not how it works. You have to
challenge a corporal and defeat him before you can challenge a
sergeant. If you defeat a sergeant then you can attempt to best a
lieutenant. Also, you’re only allowed one challenge a week,” Wernok
explained.

“How soon can I challenge my first level?”
she asked.

“Even if you could defeat all three men
today, which I seriously doubt, I wouldn’t recommend you try it.
The others wouldn’t know or respect you yet. These men aren’t like
a regular militia, they’re bandits. If they don’t like a command
their officer gives them or they don’t respect him they'll just
kill the offending leader. If you defeat a corporal and then try
and give a command it’s likely they would just ignore you,
first,
because they don’t know you
and second because you’re a woman. A very fine looking woman, I
might add,” the commander said, smiling as he recalled her nude
form.

“I see your point, I’ll just have to earn
their respect the hard way and then challenge,” she said while
purposely ignoring his come hither smile.

When she didn’t seem to rise to his veiled
offer, Wernok tried a more direct tack, “There is a faster method
for getting what you want, if you become my woman you would be
respected immediately because you would be backed by my authority.
You could wield that authority in my name and they would obey,” as
he spoke he stood and walked around the desk until he stood behind
Elizabeth’s chair.

His right hand stroked her hair and then
traveled down to her shoulder, and then from there it slowly moved
down toward the swelling of her bosom across the soft black leather
jerkin.

Before the rough fingers reached their
destination Elizabeth took his hand from her chest and stood to
face the bandit leader.

“I think not, Wernok. I’m not a woman who
stands by a man’s support. Find a camp follower
fer
yer bed sport. I’ll ascend by my merits or
die
try’in,” she said proudly.