Chapter 21: An Unexpected Death
For the sake of his own dignity, Dal decided to at least pretend he wasn't going to attempt to flee; after all, both Lord Ashmere and Master Churbud had made it quite clear to him that, should he be uncooperative, they would tie him to the back of a horse and leave him there throughout the entire four-day ride that it would take to reach Freewind, the capital city of Ostros. That would certainly make for a humiliating, very uncomfortable trip.
Not to mention the back pain.
Keeping his eyes peeled and hyperaware of his surroundings, Dal was vigilant and would remain that way. If any opportunity arose for him to make a clean, easy getaway, he would seize it; from there, he would cautiously travel north and slip out of Ostros undetected. Leaving this realm was by far his best option now.
But he would only attempt such a thing if he was truly sure his escape would be successful. That was why, for now, he decided to cooperate as he walked alongside Rethi to his left and Lord Ashmere to his right while they trekked through the town square and towards Bradford's primary entrance, where apparently some horses would be waiting for them. Yet, it was taking a lot longer to get there than Dal had expected, thanks to the crowds.
"Your Highness!" legions of townspeople cried. "Oh my God! It's really Prince Alain!"
By now, word had spread regarding the demon's attack on the town and the prince who had helped protect the people of Bradford. Thus, Dal should have expected something like this to happen. Even still, the crowd was massive. Thousands of people had all come here to see the prince off. And not just him, either.
"Rethi!" hundreds of men shouted, throwing roses at her. A few women did, too. She waved at them, seeming to enjoy the attention a whole lot more than the prince, who looked annoyed by having to suffer the inconvenience. Dal didn't think that would be his typical reaction, either; no, it was more likely a product of urgency.
"We must return as soon as possible," he said. "My father needs to know about the demon manifestation—a calamity could be approaching Ostros."
Master Churbud nodded. He was walking frontmost of them all with his three pupils nearby. "I still can't believe it was an actual demon," he said. "It's going to take me some time to process this."
"Same," Denin agreed with a shudder. "I'm not so sure I'll be able to sleep for a while."
"Yeah, same as well," Rethi added. "I'm going to need a few days to really wrap my head around this."
Ravenia squawked from where she was perched on Dal's shoulder. "Me too," the familiar said, causing the prince, Rethi, Denin, and the rest of them to turn their heads her way and stare awkwardly at her.
"What?" she asked, squawking angrily and flapping her wings. "I'm not allowed to have feelings and be surprised too?"
"N-no, of course you are," Denin said. "We just weren't expecting you to chime in that particular way."
Ravenia seemingly chose not to respond. Instead, she made an abrupt movement on Dal's shoulder, then suddenly, a sharp, piercing pain erupted in his right earlobe, one that caused him to stop short, hiss, and begin rubbing it.
"Ouch! Did you just peck me? What the hell was that for?"
"That was for not being a Necromancer," Ravenia said. "I will never stop being angry about that, you charlatan bastard."
Still rubbing his ear, Dal asked, "Is there seriously nothing I can do to make you hate me any less?"
"There is one thing, actually."
"What?"
"You can become a Necromancer again."
"Well, I can't exactly choose to do that, Ravenia. There's only a very small and random chance of that happening."
Ravenia turned her head away from him and said, "Well, I suppose there's only a very small and random chance that I will ever not hate you, then."
He sighed. "So be it."
Dal decided to leave the familiar alone for the time being. Distantly, however, he thought to himself of how badly he needed to escape from her as well. Put simply, there was just no way he was going to spend the rest of his life being constantly lambasted by a talking bird that was furious he wasn't a Necromancer.
I can't believe how mad she is that I'm not a Necromancer, he thought. She's acting like I'm not being one on purpose or something just to piss her off. Like I have some choice in the matter.
At any rate, at least she was being quiet for the time being. Not that her silence brought Dal any peace. Such a thing as "peace' could not possibly be found while such a commotion was taking place around him. The surge of townspeople all pushing and prodding one another to get a look at the prince and his companions was creating something of a problem for the guards, who had to spend an enormous amount of energy holding them back.
"Prince Alain!" they cried. "Rethi! Rethi! Prince Alain!"
Denin frowned. "Why are no beautiful ladies calling my name?"
"Jealous?" Rethi asked, making a playful giggle as she scrunched up her lips.
Denin laughed. "Maybe just a bit."
With the assistance of the town guards, the nine of them eventually managed to make it to the front gates, which were opened for them. Stepping out, Dal saw that there were eight horses waiting for them. A nearby guard explained that there had been nine, but one of them, the stallion Master Churbud had ridden in on, had become spooked and escaped early in the morning when the demon had taken to the skies, and with everything else occupied, they were still trying to procure another.
Nevertheless, the prince insisted eight would do just fine. "One of us can ride double."
With that matter settled, Dal watched as the boy, Jona, ran up alongside a solid, black, destrier warhorse, where he then climbed into the saddle. "Now that is a horse," he said. "Finally, we get to ride and not run."
"Only because the situation is urgent, Jona," Master Churbud said to him. "Believe me, the three of you will be more than making up for it when we get back to Freewind. Also, who said you could take that horse?" The Paladin grabbed his shoulders, lifted him out of the saddle with almost no effort, and plopped him down onto a brown gelding.
"I hate geldings," Jona muttered.
"Why?" Billee asked him, the small boy taking the horse just in front of his.
"They've been castrated." With a wince, he protectively grabbed his crotch area. "It reminds me that that's a thing that can happen."
"Especially to goats," Dal said, nodding along. He took the other gelding next to Jona, getting into the saddle and grabbing the reins.
Then, with a laugh, Rethi unexpectedly climbed onto it as well, sitting behind him. She wrapped both her arms around his waist. "I have to make sure you don't escape."
Dal tried his best to ignore her. She was like some kind of evil seductress. The last thing he wanted was to develop a reputation as a forty-seven-year-old man who was into nineteen-year-olds. Certainly, it was by no means illegal, but Dal strongly preferred to avoid any woman whose age still had "teen" in it. Although physically, he may have even looked slightly younger than she did.
Don't let her get to you, he warned himself.
His body and his mind might have coexisted, but that did not mean they always agreed. Rethi, with her long locks of red hair, her curvaceous figure, and her wide hips—she was the dangerous sort. And having her gripping him and pulling him back into her was invoking exactly the sort of dangerous temptation he feared it would. Still, he had to assume she was only teasing him and toying with him. It was unthinkable that this was anything more than her way of making a man squirm for the fun of doing so.
"Rethi, knock it off," Lord Ashmere said, taking the second of the two warhorses that the guards had been able to provide. "It's not funny or cute." To Dal, he said, "Let me know if she…irritates you. She's done this to me as well. And even to the king."
"I've done nothing," she said with a sneaky laugh.
Jona growled. "Do it to me too!" All he got was another cheek pinch for his efforts as she leaned over to the side and grabbed his face. This caused him to become flustered, and an argument nearly broke out, but Prince Alain, visibly distressed, put a quick stop to it.
"Enough playing around!" he snapped. "All of you. Let me remind you all that a demon has manifested: something most of you refused to believe was real until this morning. This is not the time for fun and games. We must get back and warn my father, the king."
Lord Ashmere made a confident grunt of acknowledgment. "Well said, my prince."
"Indeed," Master Churbud agreed.
With that, the prince demanded that they begin their ride westward, and as Dal's horse took off at a trot, he forced himself to try not to enjoy the sensation of Rethi's chest pressing into his back. It was almost a form of torment.
********
Lady Amoretta Von Asche, known long ago as the Soul Reaper, and known currently to those in the Jorminian Empire as Lady Sorceress Millia, bowed politely to the Grand Chancellor Melegar and made her way outside of the audience chamber in the grand palace here in the heart of Jorminia. The two armed guards closed the large, ten-foot-tall door after she left, and now, alone in the hallway, she walked calmly and slowly to her quarters. Having been given the honor of serving the emperor personally, she was naturally rewarded with a room in the palace. But it wasn't until she was inside this room and fully away from any prying eyes that the smile she perpetually kept on her lips faded, and she clenched her hands into fists.
Hurrying over to the window in her quarters, she opened it, and Vanx, her gold-and-black familiar, flew inside. "I could feel it," Amoretta said to him before he spoke. "I've felt it all morning, actually. A familiar has been born somewhere south. But how can this be? What in the name of the King of Darkness is happening? Who was it that promoted?"
The very notion that this could have taken place with her being completely unaware…it was unthinkable. Totally unthinkable. And yet, she'd felt what she had felt. Having lived for over five hundred years, there was no deceiving her senses. A familiar had definitely been born.
"I don't know who promoted, Lady Asche," Vanx replied. As her familiar spoke, she reached into the drawer near her bedside and removed a small satchel filled with crackers, feeding him several. "None of the other familiars know either. But…it may be tied to some bad news. My lady, I regret to inform you that a member of our coven has died."
"What?" Amoretta demanded. "Who? When?"
"It was Majula," Vanx said, speaking the name of a promising witch who had already infiltrated Ostros' highest ranks. Hearing this caused a tremendous sadness to course through her. Majula was very special: a talented young woman who had been unable to promote for what Amoretta knew were purely psychological reasons she had never quite been able to overcome.
"How did she die? Explain everything to me, Vanx."
And so, he did, and when he finished, his explanation gave rise to more questions than it did answers. "She was summoning a demon?" Amoretta asked with a gasp. "As a Witch? And this new Necromancer also happened to be there, too?"
"Yes, Lady Asche," Vanx said. "Majula was attempting to manifest a Greater Demon. And naturally, she botched it and ended up devoured."
Amoretta shook her head. "That makes no sense. Why would she do such a thing?"
"That's what I intend to find out for you, my lady."
Even a powerful Necromancer such as herself would not dare risk summoning a demon. For a witch to attempt such a summoning—it was suicidal. And Majula had great aspirations. There was no reason for her to have done such a thing.
Something odd was going on. Something she needed to get to the bottom of. Especially as, based on Vanx's explanation, the demon summoning coincided with the birth of a new, unnamed Necromancer that had supposedly been in Bradford at the same time as her death. Could such a coincidence really happen?
"Find out everything you can, Vanx. And alert the coven that we may have been compromised."
"Yes, Lady Asche."
Vanx, flapping his wings, flew out of her window, and she closed it. She needed to calm herself. She could not let this death weigh on her spirit. As far as the Empire of Jorminia was concerned, she was a powerful sorceress and a loyal subject of the emperor. She needed to believe it in order to sell it, as the Deceive skill was not perfect. Thus, whatever had happened to Majula would have to wait. Thanks to this war that the emperor had started now occupying far too much of her time, she was no longer able to make meaningful progress towards her true goal.
Perhaps it was time her coven found a way to end it.