Chapter 3 Fire and Lightning

Father Evan and Sir Ambrose followed the path to the left. The granite walls in this part of the ruins were in better shape than elsewhere. The walls towered twenty feet above their heads for ten yards then stopped as they emerged into the remains of a large plaza.

Grass and weeds had overgrown the cobblestones and two collapsed stone structures lay in a heap about fifty feet from Evan, a large one of red clay bricks and a small one of granite. On the far side of the granite debris, a column of marble lay on its side in pieces about ten feet from the pile of crumbled brickwork and another ten feet further on were worn marble stairs leading down into a basement or underground passage.

Evan’s group of knights entered the plaza looking about in all directions. Across the plaza, amid the wreckage, hidden behind the pile of red bricks, Evan spied two men peering back at them. He couldn’t see much; only their heads and shoulders were visible. He started to point at them when both men made throwing motions with their hands. An instant later, a lightning bolt struck one of the knights; a ball of flame enveloped another.

Everyone turned to look at the noise from each blast. The knight hit by lightning collapsed and the knight on fire dropped to the ground and began to roll about to douse the flames. Some of the swordsmen near him began to kick dirt over the flames.

“Attack,” cried Evan, pointing.

Instantly the swordsmen ran forward. The archers took aim at their opponents. The necromancers loosed another lightning bolt and fireball at the approaching swordsmen wounding another two knights. The swordsmen pressed on and the bowmen fired their arrows. Some of the missiles hit the stone debris; others made it over the top but did not hit either necromancer.

Evan cursed the necromancers’ superior position and ordered the archers to move forward to flank their opponents. Next, Evan motioned to Ambrose for the swordsmen to circle around. The knight acknowledged the order with a nod and continued forward hoping to block the other end with his men.

Meanwhile, the two necromancers hammered away at the approaching swordsmen. A blast of lightning and a shot of fire slowed the approaching knights, but they did not stop. They could not until Evan gave the order to retreat. They must see this battle through.

Sir Ambrose fixed his gaze on the man throwing lightning and continued forward with his men. Nothing would stop Ambrose or the other swordsmen it seemed. They strode forward closing the distance between themselves and the necromancers.

Another burst of lightning and fire shot out from the stone debris and again Ambrose and his men slowed as one knight caught fire and the lightning wounded another.

Ambrose ground his teeth and pressed on. Fire and hatred burned in his eyes. He was coming for the necromancers.

The fire mage realized his predicament and stepped back toward some marble steps; the other necromancer continued his assault and wounded another knight. Finally, Sir Ambrose reached the first of the two necromancers and swung his sword. It cut deep and the necromancer grabbed his arm in pain. Realizing he could not continue throwing lightning bolts, the necromancer surrendered. Two other swordsmen stepped forward to take him into custody.

Ambrose looked for the other necromancer and saw him disappear down the basement steps. Evan was coming around the debris from the other direction and also saw the fleeing man vanish into the darkness.

Evan had the knights bind the hands of the captured necromancer and bandage his wounds.

“Gag him too,” said Evan.

“Yes, Father.”

“Ambrose, we’ll leave five archers to guard this man and another five swordsmen to administer first aid to our wounded. The rest will come with us to pursue the other mage.”

“As you command,” said Ambrose.

Chapter 2 Earthquake

Lan and his men headed to the right on foot. The Michaeline captain placed Sir Geoffrey in charge of the swordsmen, while Lan took charge of the archers. They walked five abreast for several minutes with the swordsmen in the lead and the archers in the rear, their metal armor clattering. Ahead, Lan saw two sets of high walls, which formed a crude street about twenty feet wide. He quickly ordered the knights to fall into a three-abreast formation before continuing.

They followed the street for ten minutes watching for anything unusual, as Evan had instructed. In most places the walls were crumbling or collapsed. The road curved gently to the left and the knights continued only another five yards before reaching a section where the walls on both sides of the street had fallen down. The pile of rubble topped Geoffrey’s head and there was too much stone to try and move it.

Lan saw the blockage as he rounded the corner. “We’ll have to double back,” he said.

However, before anyone could move, the ground began to shake gently. Lan’s eyes widen in surprise for an instant before he suppressed the feeling and began turning around. The motion of the ground slowly grew stronger, making it hard to walk or even stand. Lan was thrown to the ground along with many of the other knights.

The knights around him screamed. Lan looked in the direction of the voices. In some places, the earthquake flattened out small piles of stones. In other spots, large piles of rock had been thrown on top of some knights. Sections of the walls were also crumbling. Other knights were injured from falling debris. A few were able to use their shields to deflect the rubble.

Lan could barely stand but his mind whirred with activity as he focused on the events before him.

Earthquakes in this part of Thalacia are rare. This is an attack by a necromancer.

The trick was finding him. The entire troop made too much noise to sneak up on the man but individuals deployed strategically might be able to. Of course, Lan decided to wait until the quake ended. He hoped the necromancer would still be close by.

The shaking subsided slowly. Once Lan was able to stand, he was on his feet issuing orders, and joined the other able-bodied men in helping injured knights. Suddenly, Lan caught sight of Sir Geoffrey, who was rubbing his sword arm. Lan went to him.

“Are you all right?”

“Aye,” said Geoffrey, “just some bruises.”

“Good,” said Lan. “Take charge of the men. Help the injured back to the horses and then assemble the remaining men. We’ll move out again, when I return.”

“Where are ya going?”

“We’ve been attacked, Geoffrey,” Lan noted gesturing at the knights as they slowly got to their feet. “With luck, I’m going to try and find the source of the quake and prevent another one.”

“Alone?”

“Yes. I’ll need stealth and as a group we make too much noise.”

“And if ya should fail?”

“Then find Father Evan and let him know what’s happened.”

“Aye, sir.”

Lan walked up the crude street and discovered an archer lying dead under some debris. The Michaeline captain picked up the man’s bow and slung the quiver over his shoulder. He nocked an arrow and made his way slowly to an area where the wall had collapsed. Cautiously he peered along its outer face. Debris, pockets of tall grass, and rubble met the knight’s gaze. In the soft earth, he saw footprints. He followed them, moving ten yards deeper into the ruins. Up ahead, Lan spied a man dressed in a simple tunic and trousers.

Lan took aim with his bow and called out, “You there. Stop and identify yourself.”

The man glanced in Lan’s direction and waved his hands. Lan dropped the bow and doubled over in agonizing pain. The man approached Lan, drawing a dagger and smirking. Lan tried to stand, but his legs would not hold him. He tried to crawl, but even that movement was torture. Reluctantly, Lan lay in the grass unmoving to minimize the pain.

The necromancer crouched to put the blade against Lan’s throat. Lan watched the dagger, knowing his life might soon end. His mind whirred and a plan for keeping himself alive formed in his head. He waited for the necromancer to get just a little closer. Then putting all his strength and resolve into one final movement, his arm came up. Fire seemed to roar down his arm and across his shoulder as his joints moved. Lan didn’t know if his aim was good but he felt his knuckles hit something hard and almost immediately the pain eased.

Looking up, Lan saw his opponent fall back and drop the dagger. Wasting no time, Lan scrambled to his feet. He reached for his bow and the other man tackled him. They wrestled on the ground, rolling in one direction and then another. Finally, Lan broke his opponent’s hold and stood up. He groaned and stumbled backwards a little. He shook his head to clear it and then saw his bow a few yards away. He ran over to it.

Meanwhile, the necronancer had stood up and pulled out another dagger from the side of his boot. He threw it and missed. Lan heard the weapon whiz by. Grapping his bow from the ground, Lan loaded an arrow into it and faced his opponent. The necromancer was running towards the dagger he had dropped earlier.

“Stop,” said Lan.

The man ignored Lan and an instant later he cried out in pain and grabbed his leg as an arrow impaled his right calf.

Lan drew another arrow and placed it in the bow. “That way.” He gestured with his weapon. The man did not move. “The next arrow will be through your stomach. Now move.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. He turned slowed and limped in the direction indicated, cursing himself for being captured.

Chapter 1 Into the Ruins of Mirea

A streak of small round clouds arced high across the bright blue sky looking like a ribbon of uneven swabs that had been painted against the azure firmament. Along the edge of the ribbon, each nimbus was tapered like delicate silver feathers, giving them a vague frayed appearance. Beneath the clouds, tall brown grass stretched for miles in all directions. A light breeze barely moved anything in the sky but stirred the stalks of grass, causing them to sway gently.

Nestled in the grass were slabs of granite and white marble with gray veins. Once part of a city, the stone lay crumbled all around, buried in the prairie like a hidden monument to the devastation of an old metropolis. A dirt road ran through the middle of the city ruins, blocked by a hunk of granite or a wedge of marble at random spots along the way.

Near noontime, the calm was replaced by a slow rumble. The noise began to build, sounding like thunder and scaring some nearby birds out of their nests. A column of sand became visible along the road as if a dust storm was lumbering westward.

The thunder stopped suddenly, while the cloud of grit and dirt intensified and approached the ruins. Then the dust cloud dissipated leaving only a ring of silence and settling motes to descend upon the area. Evan Pierce and his host of a hundred reined in their horses. Evan, a priest of the Order of St. Michael and a demon hunter, surveyed the broken road that lay ahead. The fifty swordsmen and fifty archers with him were knights of the Order; they sat awaiting his commands, their breastplates of polished metal emblazoned with silver swords gleaming in the sun.

“Why are we stopping?” asked Evan’s friend and captain of the Michaeline soldiers, Sir Lan Falconhead.

“Time for your mission briefing,” said Evan. “Remember the message I got from His Grace a few days ago?”

“Yes, of course. You said we had new orders and we set off for these ruins.”

“Right,” said Evan taking a parchment scroll from under his belt. He handed it to Lan.

Lan opened the scroll and began reading.

Evan,

Several of my informants have sent word that necromancers are planning to camp in the Mirean ruins. Their exact purpose is unknown, but is a matter of concern. By the time you receive this dispatch, they will no doubt have established themselves.

Of particular concern is the necromancer called Jormundan. He has been known to summon demons, raise the dead for zombies, associate with vampires, and give aid to other forms of undead. Based on the reports I’ve received, he is now allied with thieves to steal an expensive gem or some jewelry, most likely magical. The precise details are vague. I suspect he is leading the necromancers in the Mirean ruins.

You are ordered to proceed to the ruins. Capture or kill the necromancers, I care not which, and destroy any preparations they may have made. If possible, apprehend Jormundan for questioning.

Lan handed the parchment back to Evan.

“All right,” said Lan. “What’s the plan?”

“We’ll ride a little deeper into the ruins and then proceed on foot,” said Evan placing the parchment under his belt again. “We’ll have to search the entire area and watch out for traps.”

“Very good.”

Evan signaled to continue on and spurred his horse forward. He wanted to resume his rapid pace west. The road ahead, however, would not permit him to charge down it. The destruction of the old city and the castle that had been at its heart, got worse as the group moved farther west; the road all but vanished under large chunks of stone. They would have to ride even more cautiously or risk crippling their horses.

Evan’s steed, a dappled gray named Alsvinn, responded to his rider’s command and stepped slowly forward, allowing Evan time to maneuver around blocks of stone that were in the road. The knights of St. Michael behind him spurred their horses forward at a similar pace.

They rode on avoiding obstacles. As they went, Evan’s mind drifted back to a few days before when five necromancers had ambushed them. He lost several healers and priests in that battle and the face of each man that had died under his command flicked through his mind’s eye. He grieved for them again and said a short, silent prayer for the departed, hoping they rested well and in God’s grace.

How many comrades have we lost in the last eight years because of such ambushes? Evan thought. He had lost count, and doubted this time would be different.

Ordinarily, he would have replaced the wounded and slain men once the battle was over. This time, however, orders from His Grace, Duke Wrightwood had arrived while the knights were still recovering. Given the threat these necromancers posed, Evan had decided he could not wait to replace his fallen comrades with new men. Any delay would give the necromancers in these ruins time to complete their plans.

I wonder if I made the right decision rushing here.

With no one among the assembled host to fill the roles of healer and priest, aside from Evan and the few knights who could administer first aid, he and his men might not fare very well on this mission. Causalities would mostly likely be higher than normal; this concerned Evan greatly but even the additional loss of life seemed small when weighed against the prospect of some new evil unleashed upon the world.

Evan’s thoughts shifted to his new orders and reviewed them in his mind.

Capture or kill the necromancers.

Capture was preferable, Evan knew, but few necromancers were willing to stand trial for their crimes and preferred to respond to even this merciful option with lethal force.

No wonder I’ve buried so many men.

Putting these thoughts from his mind, Evan sat up straight in his saddle and focused on the road in front of him. The debris in the road thinned and the way ahead looked easier. Evan signaled a halt.

“We’ll dismount here,” Evan said to Lan. “Deploy the troops. We’ll divide into two groups of fifty, twenty-five archers and twenty-five swordsmen in each. I’ll take one group with Sir Ambrose as my second and circle to the left; you take the other group with Sir Geoffrey as your second and circle to the right. Watch for unnatural placement of stone and anything else which may be unusual.”

All the knights dismounted and assembled around Evan and Sir Lan. They all made the sign of the cross and bowed their head.

Evan turned his face to the sky and said, “Almighty God, grant us the strength this day to vanquish the evil we face, to defeat your enemies, and to return home safely. Let us go into battle in your name, to promote your word.”

“With your blessing in battle, we cannot fail,” said the knights in unison.

Evan looked at the assembled host and made the sign of the cross in the air. “May the blessings of St. Michael be with you.”

“Amen,” said the knights and again they made the sign of the cross.

Now they were ready for battle.