Defiant Necromancer (Book 2 stubbed)

“You did this, Princess Dero?” Colin asked, eyes narrowed at the dark elf.

“I would still prefer to be addressed as Queen,” Dero replied.

“Once you marry King Tybalt, everyone will acknowledge your claim to that title,” Kamila replied with quiet coolness. “Queen Mother.”

Dero returned the smile, with all the coolness.

“There are some people who already feel that way about me, you know,” she said.

Dear Mudo, have mercy, Tybalt thought.

“So this is your doing,” Colin said, no longer asking. He frowned.

They all watched as a few dozen dark elves marched up the central street of Nialf toward the palace. The sun had just set, and torches were lit everywhere as workers returned to their homes for the night. The flickering firelight made the scene more dramatic.

The dark elf men and women - mainly men, Tybalt noticed - wore workmen’s clothing. Smiths dressed in the leather aprons they typically wore over their tunics. Carpenters with their tools hanging from their work belts. Butchers with hints of blood on their clothing, though they had left their aprons behind. A slightly better dressed group who Tybalt identified as tailors.

By way of answer to Colin, Dero stepped forward toward the front gate.

The High Elf King’s guards moved to block her, but at a gesture from Colin, they parted, and Dero pushed open the doors herself.

At the sight of their Princess, the dozens of dark elves rushed forward and fell to their knees in front of her.

A particularly tall and strongly built smith who looked middle-aged in human terms took a central position among the kneelers. He began to speak.

“I represent the feelings of all dark elves resident in the City of Ancients when I say that we regret deeply our failure to find and protect the heir to the throne of Dore. Our only excuse is that we believed she was deceased and therefore beyond our help. Our only penance is to serve her for the rest of our days.” He looked up and met Dero’s eyes before he spoke again. “We pledge our eternal allegiance to Queen Dero, ruler of all the dark elves, and in turn to her consort, the necromancer Tybalt.

Dero turned back to Tybalt for a moment and winked. She was grinning now.

Yes, thank you for including me, Dero, very nice of you to have them swear loyalty to me, too. Genuinely nice, actually, it’s not lost on me… although calling me your consort, instead of “the Beastking” or “the High Priest of Mudo,” makes it sound like my main role is to be chained to the foot of your bed, ready to help produce heirs.

Not such a bad life, all in all, but not what he had chosen for himself, or he’d have been with Brandy rather than Mariella, Vidalia, Victoria, Kistana, and Dero.

As Dero turned back to face the kneelers, her expression became more subdued. Even regal.

“All my subjects, please rise,” she said formally. “I pardon you for any perceived disloyalty. The age of miracles and prophecy is upon us. It is time that the dark elves take our rightful place in Abadd. Our first step will be to return with my consort to the Kingdom of Niet, much of it formerly held by the high elves until they were driven out. We will join with the other demihumans and servants of Death God Mudo currently fighting there, conquer the Kingdom, and begin to repopulate.” She pressed her hand to her womb and announced with gravity, “Perhaps the most important method to secure the survival of our race is to begin repopulating. Thanks to the vigorous efforts of my consort, I am already with child. Go thou and do likewise under the umbrella of my and his protection.” She turned to Colin and added, almost as an afterthought, “We, of course, thank His Majesty King Colin for sheltering the dark elf refugees until their true Queen came for them.”

“For which they swore oaths of fealty to me,” Colin observed. “Just as eternal and freely given as the one their representative has now sworn to Princess Dero.”

The kneeling dark elves looked back and forth between Dero and Colin in a conflicted way, as if pulled to the former but afraid to defy the latter.

“They are free men and women,” Dero said. “They do not belong to anyone. They must go to the ruler who will serve them best.”

“We will have words about this in private,” Colin said curtly. He turned to the dark elves gathered in the street. “Until then, get back to work!” He waved a hand, and a powerful wave of mana extended from his fingertips.

Dero barely managed to move out of the way of the gates before they slammed shut.

He’s hiding a vast quantity of mana, Tybalt thought. The degree of power in the vampire was only apparent after dark, and even then, it was difficult for him to measure.

Colin clearly had far more raw mana than either Tybalt or Dero, probably far more than both of them combined. That didn’t necessarily translate into winning a fight. Tybalt had vastly outperformed his own resources when he fought Eolas, and Colin likely had little battle experience due to his relatively cowardly record as a leader.

But fighting him would be taking a big risk, and now Dero had actually given him a reason to consider them enemies.

Tybalt could hear the dark elves outside the gates murmuring and milling around trying to decide what to do.

They would never have taken a rebellious thought into their heads if Dero hadn’t gone among them the last few days, the necromancer thought darkly. Letting them know she was alive. Probably suggesting something like this course of action. She’s seen enough of the world to know how a situation like this can turn out…

Dero called out through the doors.

“Do as he says for now! We will not be long in coming to bring you back with us to the Kingdom, so be prepared to leave!”

Behind them, the dragon Eolas frowned. He had taken on a human form, a gray-haired man with a plain face and a regal demeanor that frankly outshone both Dero and Colin’s, perhaps due to simply being more ancient than either of them. Old enough to have encountered gods.

“Are you still able to serve as a neutral party in this dialogue, Colin?” the old dragon asked quietly. “If not, I suspect that… all matters might be resolved very quickly.”

Code for: if this stops being a negotiation, I can quickly eliminate both the necromancer and the dark elf that are causing us headaches.

Colin stared at Tybalt and Dero for a long, tense moment before responding, “I must serve as a neutral party, Eolas. You know it as well as I do. If I violate my word, it will be remembered in these lands - and among the followers of this necromancer - for millennia. I would be burning my honor for a few admittedly satisfying moments of triumph.”

He angled his head so that the dragon couldn’t see his face and gave Tybalt a little wink.

The necromancer thought he understood the High Elf King’s meaning immediately. He’s pretending to be more upset than he is. He doesn’t really value these dark elves that much. At least not as much as his commitment to my god. And he’s only pretending to be neutral. At least he wants me to think he’ll be on my side.

“Let us get this over with, then,” Eolas grumbled. He waved his hand and conjured a wooden table and chairs. They were ornately carved with draconic patterns - scales and wings everywhere, with the back of each chair featuring a carving of a dragon’s head spewing flames.

“Nice furnishings,” Dero complimented, looking slightly impressed as she hopped into a chair. “Might I ask the great dragon for a cushion?”

Eolas waved a finger and Dero was suddenly slightly taller - and she smiled to indicate that she was more comfortable as well.

Everyone here can just perform casual magic in ways Dero and I can’t, Tybalt thought irritably. I’m not sure why she seems so confident right now.

“I need just a minute to consult with my bride before we begin,” he said.

Liora looked at him, then darted her eyes away, apparently embarrassed to realize he meant Dero.

I guess the girl actually has a little crush. She must have been starved for affection and attention all these years, to cling to me so quickly. The King kept her practically imprisoned, a flower inside a glass case within a walled garden. All she could do was memorize poetry and study etiquette - and drink blood, of course, but everyone has to eat. That hardly constitutes worldly experience or adventure.

Dero moved over to Tybalt and spread the purple haze of her Sound Void tightly around them.

“I’m starting to think you’re the kind of girl who has to be the bride at every wedding and the corpse at every funeral,” Tybalt said, covering his mouth so that his lips could not be read.

“What, you thought that was all about me?” she asked, also blocking her lips from view with one hand. “They even mentioned you by name!”

“Yes, your consort.” He shook his head. “This couldn’t have waited until after we got the scary ancient dragon to agree to leave us alone?”

“It’s better that we set Colin’s expectations properly now,” she said confidently, taking Tybalt’s hand in her free hand and beginning to lightly massage it with one thumb. “He can’t have the idea that he’ll get his own way. Let him stew over this during your dragon negotiations. When we have to cut our own deal with Colin later, he’ll be more reasonable than he would be if we sprung it on him at that time.”

Tybalt sighed. “Do you actually need these people?”

Her eyes narrowed. “They are my people, Tybalt. It isn’t a matter of need. When our child is born, he or she will need allies. These people will worship the ground our children walk on. They belonged to my family for generations, and we took care of them. It was the same sort of relationship you intend to have with your own people. Don’t ask me to abandon them.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You have some mixed motives there. You started by appealing to what our child will need, then finished by talking about what the dark elves need… to not be abandoned. Ignoring that Colin has been providing them what they actually need. Shelter, after their homeland was despoiled. The beastfolk would have kissed a king’s feet if they had ever been given that.”

“Shelter is not a home. We can give them a home. And my people are the closest thing I have left to a family of origin.” She looked up at him with hard eyes. He could feel that she would hold her ground on this, more stubbornly than she ever had about anything before.

It was perhaps the most emotional he had ever seen Dero. Either this moment, or finding out she was pregnant. He could tell she was trying not to shout or burst into tears or something. She would undoubtedly find that embarrassing.

Of course that meant he would give Dero her own way. For the moment, at least.

Tybalt smiled, leaned down, and kissed her on the cheek.

“Fine, I’ll treat them like I would my in-laws,” he said.

He stepped back and dropped his hand away from his mouth, and Dero dismissed the Sound Void with a cautiously optimistic expression. Tybalt kept the smile, and they both turned to the negotiating table.

The conversation wasn’t over, exactly, but at least they were on the same page enough for the moment. The dragon was the first problem to deal with.

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