Necromancer Awakening (45 page)

A boulder struck a battlement next to Mujahid, and he had to leap out of the way to avoid the resulting shrapnel. The wall couldn’t take much more.

The necromancers raised the dead Tildemen soldiers, and Mujahid signaled for them to take control. If Death’s Vise wouldn’t work, then they had to use the undead to their best advantage.

Another powerful blast shook the wall. Mujahid had to do something, or this would be a short siege indeed.

“They have us by the balls like this, you know,” Nuuan said. He crouched behind the battlement with Mujahid and Yuli.

“The wall is already weak from the quakes,” Yuli said.

“They didn’t bring those catapults with them,” Mujahid said. “They teleported them here. That can mean only one thing.”

Nuuan cursed. “Festering life magi.”

“But this could work in our favor. If they were expecting a quick breach….” Mujahid spread his hands.

“They wouldn’t have time to flank us,” Nuuan said. “Yuli, meet me with a century of archers at the western gate. And run like your arse is on fire. Digby, you’re with my brother.”

Nuuan rose to leave, but Yuli stopped him.

“If you’re going to flank them, Lord Mukhtaar, we should set a diversion,” Yuli said.

“Make that
two
centuries,” Nuuan turned and ran along the wall to the left.

“Death’s Vise may work yet,” Mujahid said. “Nuuan will be heading to their rear. I’ll take a century with me to the east, below the wall, and start attacking their vanguard.”

“You can’t sneak two hundred archers over a barren plain,” Yuli said.

“Open the gate,” Digby said.

“What?” Yuli said.

“A diversion only works if your enemy doesn’t expect it,” Digby said. “Do you think they expect us to open the gate and welcome them with open arms?”

A boulder struck a nearby battlement with massive force, and it crumbled into dust as if it had been pulverized.

“We’re betting with the city here,” Yuli said. “Rotham will fall if the Mukhtaars don’t succeed.”

“I’m sorry if I have misunderstood our present situation,” Digby said. “But I was under the assumption defeat is a foregone conclusion and Death’s Vise is a last ditch effort to save our collective arses. Was I wrong?”

Yuli looked away.

“When the two centuries reach the northern wall, order the gate opened and the men to lay down their arms,” Digby said. “I might be able to use my secret weapon after all.”

“Do as he says, Commander,” Mujahid said.

“I don’t like this, but I’ll see to the archers,” Yuli said. “One century to the west gate and one to the east. If this fails, Lord Mujahid—”

“Then nothing changes but the timing of our defeat.”

Mujahid set off toward the east gate, taking two other necromancers with him. The streets were deserted, and it didn’t take long for them to find their destination.

The sound of boots striking the dirt grew louder and soon a full century of archers stood before Mujahid in the small plaza.

“Lord Mujahid,” one of the archers said as he stepped forward. “I’m Centenaur Eric, leader of this lot.”

Mujahid had seen better soldiers in his day, but these men were far from green.

“Did Commander Yuri inform you of our strategy?”

“Yes, m’lord.”

“Follow my lead and be prepared to fire the moment I give the command. And then I want you to do something that just might save your life.”

“My Lord?”

“Kill me.”

“What?”

“If for even a moment I behave in a fashion that seems threatening to you or your men…that will be the only moment you get before your life is forfeit.”

The Centenaur swallowed and nodded.

The sound of battle grew muffled outside the eastern gate. The dull crack of boulders striking a distant wall echoed on the stone streets.

They jogged north under the deserted eastern wall, and the sound of destruction grew louder. Mujahid signaled for everyone to stop when he reached the northeast tower.

The enemy’s siege engines were too far away to be hit and too far away to hit the wall. They had to be magically enhanced.

A commotion rose among the enemy forces, and he could see the vanguard marching toward the wall. Many of the soldiers had looks of disbelief on their faces. The northern gate must be open now. The soldiers within would be making a show of surrender. The diversion was working.

Mujahid gestured for everyone to follow him as he headed farther east, down the embankment that kept the city elevated above the plain. He just needed to give the archers a clear view.

Laughter erupted in the enemy vanguard.

Digby was running back and forth, naked from head to toe, his bowed legs moving faster than Mujahid thought possible. After performing several cartwheels, and pantomiming being ravaged by the northern gate, Digby ran back into the city. Some of the soldiers in the van doubled over with laughter, but most looked at each other with confused expressions.

This was the moment Mujahid needed. Digby’s
secret weapon
had worked.

Mujahid looked over his shoulder at Centenaur Eric. “Now.”

One hundred arrows launched toward the vanguard. Mujahid signaled and the other two necromancers entered the battle.

When the first of the undead rose, the imperial soldiers didn’t realize what was happening. One moment their fellow soldiers were laughing next to them. The next moment they would rise, striking at anyone within arm’s reach.

A surge of death energy emanated in waves from farther out to the north. Mujahid watched the other two necromancers with a discerning eye as they raised penitents in quick succession. But it was early in the battle. The effects of madness would be difficult to detect. He summoned his own penitents into the mix.

The number of undead on the field grew at an alarming rate. The Religarian forces remained confused after the first three volleys of arrows. They had no idea where the attack was coming from.

The undead slaughtered everything in reach with a sadistic fury, ripping their opponents apart by hand as often as using a weapon. Some were killed by empire soldiers, only to be raised and thrust back into the fray. Soldiers fled as they realized what was happening around them.

As necessary as this was, Mujahid’s stomach sickened. Each of those reanimated corpses was a person who was suffering and confused. He had to fight his natural instinct to help them. He had a job to do, and thousands of lives depended on him. The dead would take care of the dead. He had to take care of the living now.

He focused his concentration and looked back toward the battlefield. Many of the fleeing soldiers were cut down by a surging swarm of death. The thirsty, barren field turned crimson beneath their feet, and a hideous mud formed and clung to boots and armor.

An empire soldier…an officer by the look of it…had ridden into the van and was shouting orders. Soldiers turned this way and that, but found themselves under attack by dead allies they thought were still alive. The only way to know for certain who was dead and who was alive was by the degree of injury sustained.

An arrow took the officer straight through his right eye, and he slumped off his mount. Mujahid channeled power into the corpse and summoned the officer back from the dead. When the namocea was over, Mujahid took control. He commanded the man to remove the arrow from the gaping wound and toss it aside. Without thinking, he attempted to get the officer to remount, but the horse would have no part of it.

He cursed himself for his ignorance.

Animals could always tell the difference between the dead and the living. The giant warhorse reared up on its hind legs and tried to trample the undead officer.

Mujahid called the soldier off, and the horse bolted backwards, crushing several men in the process. Mujahid cast power forward and the men rose, one by one, no longer fettered by the moral constraints of life, and no longer in possession of anything resembling sanity.

A sharp, stabbing pain took Mujahid in the thigh, and he looked down to find an arrow protruding from the muscle. He looked up to the wall to find the source of the attack and cursed. A Tildem archer was fighting a losing battle with one of the necromancers and had misfired.

So it begins
, Mujahid thought as he looked at the now-insane priest.

His newly-raised penitent sensed his distress and began running toward him.

Mujahid had to do something. If the Religarians saw the commander running this way, they would follow.

He ordered the penitent to return to battle, and filled his energy well.

He sent a wall of force in the direction of the archer and the necromancer. The blast caught both of them, tossing them backward down the embankment. The fallen necromancer rose and lunged toward the archer.

Mujahid recoiled as wisps of power moved past him from the tower above. The insane necromancer was lifted off the ground as if bound by mystical ropes.

Mujahid looked for the source of the power.

Digby stared back at him from the tower. The expression on his face was deadly, but something was holding him back. He must be looking for permission to kill the other priest.

Mujahid nodded.

Digby made a sweeping gesture toward the killing field below the wall, and the necromancer flew into the midst of the carnage. A nearby penitent reared back and threw himself at the fallen priest, ripping the necromancer’s throat out.

Mujahid had never witnessed such an adept display of telekinesis in all his years of necromancy. There was more to Digby than the man let on.

Mujahid channeled power into the dead necromancer and ordered him into battle. He told himself that he needed to control these penitents, but he knew it was a lie. The insane necromancer had affected him, and he wasn’t expecting it.

A stabbing sensation brought him back to the present. If he didn’t do something about his leg soon, the injury would be permanent. He was going to have to remove the arrow himself.

Motion caught his eye and he looked up to see Digby leap from the crenelated tower.

Mujahid screamed at him to stop, but it was too late. The man had gone insane. He must have thrown himself off the tower in a moment of clarity. Mujahid wanted to turn away but something stopped him.

Digby wasn’t falling.

The diminutive priest slowed his fall with another masterful display of telekinesis. When he reached the ground, he ran to Mujahid’s side.

“Are you aware there’s something pointy sticking out of your leg?” Digby said.

“I thought you mad.”

“I just threw myself off a wall, man. Of course I’m mad.”

Mujahid gripped the arrow by the shaft. “Are you ready?”

“The question, my Lord, is are
you
ready?”

Mujahid ripped the arrow from his thigh. His flesh tore as the barbed point ripped through his leg. His vision swam, but the unmistakable vibration of power entered his leg.

Digby was healing him. He shouldn’t know how to do that.

Mujahid’s energy returned and the wound started closing.

“I’ll be ok from here,” Mujahid said. “Thank you.”

“You’re a mighty necromancer, Lord Mujahid, but not even that thick skull of yours is hard enough to stop arrows. You’re too important. Don’t die.”

With a single push of his legs, Digby leapt into the air and ascended back to the tower.

Mujahid was speechless.

Shouts of “to the King” went up near the northern gate.

King Donal charged into the midst of a group of Religarian soldiers, who had made it past the line of undead and were threatening the gate. His swordplay was masterful, but his sword wasn’t the weapon Mujahid was interested in. A penitent fought at Donal’s side.

The king was not only personally leading his men into battle. He was leading as a necromancer.

Smoke had begun to blot out the amber sky, and as it began to cloud Mujahid’s vision, three Religarians charged King Donal. A crushing blow from a war hammer the length of a man broke Donal’s sword in half as the smoke grew too thick to see through.

There was no way to get to the king now. Mujahid hoped Donal’s guard was up to the challenge.

The acrid odor from the smoke burned Mujahid’s nostrils, and he turned to find the source.

Fires had been set at the vanguard and the rear in an attempt to separate the living from the undead. If he didn’t stop underestimating this Religarian commander, they would all pay the price for it.

The blaze had engulfed many of the living along with the undead, but the undead penitents were taking the most damage. There was a clearly-defined corridor of living soldiers, caught between the wall of fire at the van and the wall of fire at the rear. Fire had destroyed the siege engines at both ends, but the ones in the central corridor were standing. The empire had been shaken by Death’s Vise, but they were regrouping, and if Mujahid didn’t change his tactics the temporary gains would mean nothing.

The Religarian commander had ordered his archers forward, and they were targeting Tildem archers at the rear and eastern flank. It would only be a matter of time before the Religarian forces overwhelmed the wall. Tildem would fall.

Nuuan came running along the rear of the enemy force. He cast as he ran in an apparent attempt to raise the archers as they fell. But in order for it to work, he would have to control every one he raised, and there was no telling how many he had already summoned during the battle.

Mujahid was weak, but he was running out of options. He commanded his penitent necromancer to begin casting toward the enemy force. An undead priest may not be able to summon a penitent of his own, but he could wield a healthy amount of necropotency.

The necromantic link evaporated, leaving Mujahid disoriented. He looked out onto the smoke-covered battlefield through columns of fire. A group of life magi were killing the undead soldiers with bursts of fire that vaporized anything in their path. The tide of battle was turning, and not for the better.

Archers and infantry fell by the dozen as flames enveloped a large section of the wall. The remaining catapults hurled burning payloads that burst on impact, spreading liquid fire with an accelerant that Mujahid couldn’t identify. Tildem infantry gathered in preparation for the inevitable breach.