Defiant Necromancer (Book 2 stubbed)

Dero crafted a great runic circle over the next day, carving the mystic runes into stone so that there would be a permanently accessible route between the places linked to it and the destination stones.

“I could have traced it in sand much more quickly, but we’ll probably be reusing these at least once beyond the next day or two,” she said.

“They’ll also provide an escape route if absolutely necessary, I imagine,” Princess Liora suggested. “My father would surely shelter us in the unlikely event that we were defeated in battle.”

“This is actually a one way system,” Dero said. “That’s why I can make additional circles in other places, and they will all direct people here.”

“Oh.”

Tybalt just smiled and shook his head. Liora had no idea of what the odds of victory or defeat were, but she was already thinking about how they might potentially make their escape in case they lost.

She’s picked up some bad habits from her father. Hopefully we’ll work through those in time.

Since there was already an operational circle in Lutnia, the completion of the receiving circle and its placement just outside Whadesgart was quickly followed by the arrival of the first of King Colin’s elite troops.

Tybalt was able to inspect his new assets, and he was pleased with what he saw. Both the vampires and the unaltered high elves were powerful - and the non-undead could potentially become even more powerful if the unfortunate happened, and Tybalt was forced to raise them as undead. He was conscious of the fact that he had every incentive to send these men and women to their deaths, to shift them from the column of Colin’s assets that Tybalt was borrowing into the permanent servant category.

The necromancer made no plans to act on those incentives, but he noted them. He wondered if that was something Colin had included in his own calculations.

***

As Dero crafted the first circle, a group of Tybalt’s relatively less powerful but more intelligent undead - Hieron and Brunn, mainly - acted as her understudies, copying some of the symbols that would be relevant in making additional circles.

With their help, in less than a single day, she had created two more sets of stones inscribed with corresponding runes, to be transported and assembled at the beastfolk mountain range and near Ragga’s location respectively.

By the time the work was done, the preparations for the wedding were also complete.

Dero teleported first back to the mountains, where she and her helpers assembled the next circle and explained how to use it to the beastfolk who still remained there.

Then, after they confirmed the beastfolk were successfully moving from their homes, through the circle to Whadesgart, Tybalt put on his crown and teleported her, Brunn, and Hieron to where he sensed Andric’s undead bodyguards were.

“It’s good to know that you have become friendly with our new ally,” Tybalt said a moment after he arrived.

He and Dero had appeared just outside a great tent, in front of a large wood, bone, and stone throne. Seated in the chair was the towering ogre woman he recognized from his dream exploration with Vidalia: Ragga. Andric looked quite comfortable sitting in the ogre’s lap, while Tatiana and Sabine each rested on one arm of the chair, spaces large enough to be seats for them.

Tybalt’s two undead stood nearby, poised to act as bodyguards in case Ragga, Andric, or the harpies needed protection, though there was an army of ogres close by, so Tybalt doubted that was necessary.

“Your Holi - I mean, um, Beastking, we weren’t expecting you just now,” Sabine said, instantly flustered.

“We are more than friendly,” Andric acknowledged with a small smile. “We were explaining beastfolk culture, including the concept of marriage, to Ragga, and though it is an unfamiliar custom to her people, she seemed to find the idea quite charming. Though there has been no ceremony as of yet, and we are still learning more about each other, she has expressed interest in bringing us into her family.”

Isn’t it supposed to be her joining your family? Tybalt thought, though he supposed it made little difference. Andric had a brother who was part of Mudo’s clergy, but his parents were dead. Perhaps the posture of who was joining whom meant more to Ragga than it did to the foxman.

“You might be the tallest ogre I’ve ever seen,” Dero said, craning her neck to look up into Ragga’s eyes. “I bet you’re quite strong!”

Tybalt looked at the dark elf curiously, but she kept her eyes on Ragga. Dero didn’t seem to be doing her usual routine of sarcasm and biting wit, which made Tybalt wonder if she knew something about ogres - or about this ogre in particular - that he didn’t. She was a very well traveled elf, over four centuries old, and she had certainly encountered this race in the past.

Is it possible that an ogre handed her a defeat once? They are magic resistant… If so, I can imagine why she’d be a little more respectful. With the size discrepancy, Ragga could literally eat her.

He finally turned to look up into the ogre’s eyes.

“It is good to meet the woman I’ve heard so much about,” Tybalt said. “I am Tybalt, the Beastking, ruler of the Salt Waste, the beastfolk, the undead… and the dark elves.”

He had hesitated about including them, but Dero had made them swear fealty to him as well as her, so she’d probably consider it a slight if he didn’t mention the dark elves.

“I am Ragga, strongest in the Discontented Lands,” Ragga replied simply, speaking in lightly accented Nietian. She nodded to the necromancer. “Good to meet the Beastking.”

The ogre appeared to look carefully at Tybalt as she finished speaking. Then she turned to Andric and said something flirtatious-sounding in what seemed like beasttongue, and the foxman chuckled but looked flustered. The two harpies beside him and Ragga tried to keep their faces stoic, but they seemed slightly nervous about whatever the ogre had said.

Tybalt wished he had thought to bring Vidalia or Victoria. He hadn’t anticipated the ogre would know beasttongue and use it to communicate with his messenger right in front of him. The necromancer himself had only ever picked up a few words of the beastfolk language. Whatever was being said could be important, one way or another.

“Are you ready to travel to the Salt Waste with me and my companion?” he asked. “I understand that General Pius of the Nietian Army is roaming these parts, looking for you. We can set up the teleportation circle wherever you would like.”

“When do we fight?” Ragga asked in an eager tone of voice.

Tybalt forced himself to smile, still not really looking forward to taking even a single hit from this ridiculously large and powerful-looking woman.

“Let’s get your horde to safety first,” he said. “Does tomorrow work for the fight? It can be a bit of pre-wedding entertainment for the guests coming to see me joined with my queens.”

“Very confident,” the ogre observed, a grin breaking out over her face. “I’ll try to leave enough of you to please your women… assuming I understand your ‘wedding’ custom correctly. Mating ritual?”

Tybalt looked over at Andric, and the foxman blushed.

“Something like that,” the necromancer said.

He and the dark elf spent the next hour setting up another runic circle - putting down the stones with the symbols inscribed, in the correct order - and explaining to the horde how to use it. The method was fairly simple.

“Just add mana, and it links you to another circle in the Salt Waste,” Dero said.

She stepped back and waited for the first member of the horde to step forward.

To Tybalt’s surprise, it wasn’t one of the ogres at all.

Some random human from among Ragga’s forces decided to test it. She had quite a diverse following, much like the necromancer himself. The man stepped into the circle of stones, circulated mana through his body, down his legs, and into the ground around the runes, and in an instant, he was gone.

The ogres actually seemed to hesitate more after seeing that.

Ragga looked like she was ready to break some heads, embarrassed at her race’s unwillingness to try something that had been explained, but Dero quickly teleported back to the Salt Waste, brought the first test subject back, and showed that he was fine.

Then the others were more willing to give the circle a shot.

***

Andric found Tybalt as the horde was pitching their tents or laying out their blankets for the night in the sand.

“It seems your mission was very successful, Andric,” Tybalt said. “Thank you for getting me such an enthusiastic ally.” He made his voice suggestive. “I wonder how you secured her support.”

The foxman reddened and then shook his head.

“I should have been prepared for that question from you.”

“Yes, it is very typical of me,” Tybalt replied.

Both men smiled, but there was a tension in the air.

“Will you try to—”

“What did she say—”

They spoke at the same time, and both stopped midsentence. They shared an awkward laugh.

“Sorry, you can go first,” Andric said.

“I was just wondering what Ragga said to you in beasttongue,” Tybalt said. “I didn’t want to admit that I don’t speak the language in front of her and ask that it be repeated, but it seemed like she made an interesting comment.”

“Oh. Uh, that.” Andric sucked in a deep intake of breath. “She noticed that you were not a beastman. Not biologically. These ears and the tail—” He gestured at his own body parts—“Ragga finds them cute. She wondered if you had conquered and subjugated us, and she even made a joke about liberating us and… putting me in your place.”

“A joke?” Tybalt asked.

“Yes, a joke,” Andric insisted. “No one wants you gone, Your Majesty, least of all me.”

“You can just call me Tybalt when we’re alone. Nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed, but I’m willing to pretend otherwise if that’s what you prefer.”

Tybalt raised an eyebrow.

“You’re taking over, formally. Everyone knows it. I approve. I’ve already seen your particular brand of pragmatism. We will live better and fight more effectively with a single leader everyone recognizes.”

The necromancer exhaled and made himself smile. “Sorry, I’m used to being a bit suspicious.”

“As you should be. When you’re King, everyone around wishes they could have your job.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“It’s something my father used to say about being Chief.” There was an awkward silence for a moment, before Andric continued, “He would also add that the responsibility was a burden that no one else could understand.”

It will be your burden now, Tybalt thought but did not say.

“You heard about what happened back at the mountains?” he asked instead.

The foxman had been back for a few hours now. He would have spoken with his friends already.

“A tragedy,” Andric replied carefully. “Hard to say what a bunch of Elders might have been doing meeting secretly in a cave, in an area prone to rockslides.”

“The surviving Elders determined that it was indeed a natural disaster, just like the accident that took Eldest Isak’s leg and killed those two children.”

“We’ll mourn them, but life has to move on. That isn’t what I found you to talk about.”

“No?”

“I wanted to ask you not to kill Ragga. Since you’re going to fight her tomorrow.”

“Why would I want to kill our new ally?”

Andric just raised an eyebrow.

“You’re attached to her already, huh?” Tybalt asked.

“We’ll see how things go,” Andric said. “All three of us like her so far, though.”

You were there for a matter of days. What a whirlwind romance.

“Well, I won’t kill her unless I have no choice, then. Out of consideration for you.”

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