ZIHAEN, The Shadow of the Revenaunt, Book 2

CHAPTER 24 - UNDEAD

Ghyll thundered out the gate and through the gorge in the direction of the endless steppes. Past the last corner, he saw the huge mass of daghuur, row after row, standing behind their undead leaders. Here and there, a rotting banner was raised. They stood motionless, watching him coming. Ghyll galloped between the rows to the rear lines, where two daghuur were keeping watch beside an improvised litter. On the bier crouched, shivering and almost unrecognizable, Vasthul. At his side stood a tall undead in a faded purple robe.

At the litter, Ghyll stopped and looked down at the trembling, emaciated figure of his enemy.

'Vasthul,' he said. 'I heard you were looking for me?'

The little man's head jerked up. The scar of the phoenix was wrinkled and distorted by Vasthul's sagging facial muscles. His eyes were crazy and there seemed hardly a trace of humanity left in him.

'Ha... Hardingraud...!' Then he rose and with a great effort, stretched his arms out to Ghyll. His cracked lips muttered inaudible words, but nothing happened. Finally, his failure seemed to penetrate to his sick brain, for he let his arms fall and looked wildly around.

'Attack!' he screamed. 'Attack! Kill him! Kill him!'

Nothing moved. Crying and mumbling, the hunched figure fell back on his litter.

'He is mad,' a hollow voice in Ghyll's head said suddenly. 'He is no longer an enemy; he is nothing more than a sick animal to be killed. Do so.'

'Who are you?'

'I am Ambiaunt Neferestan, in life the Archmage of Sterrevank, Grandmaster of Four Schools.'

Ghyll nodded at Vasthul. 'He can't be healed?'

'He is already far beyond that stage. For three months, the poison Sommab the herb woman added to her oils has circled through his body. Everything in him is destroyed.'

At that moment Ghyll heard the clip-clop of horses. When he looked around, he saw Olle and Torril arriving together.

'What is this?' he said sharply, when both had stopped. 'I ordered you to stay with the others.'

'You may have said so, my brother.' Olle smiled unexpectedly. 'But sometimes I'm a bit hard of hearing. Besides, I'm your Defender... Sire.'

'And I'm your squire,' Torril said stubbornly, and he had tears in his eyes as he unfurled the royal banner.

'Your sword, Sire.' Quickly Olle buckled Childegard to Ghyll's back.

'How touching,' the archmage said drily. 'But my suggestion still stands; kill him.'

Olle looked from the undead to Ghyll. 'What's it about?'

'Vasthul is crazy. The archmage wants me to kill him.'

'Why haven't you done so yet?' Olle said nonchalantly. 'After all the times he has tried to murder you?'

'Just like that? While he can't defend himself?'

'Brother, you're too nice.' Olle sighed. With his fist, he hit Vasthul in the face. The sorcerer's head snapped back and he slumped down in the litter. A trickle of blood leaked from his nose.

'Done!' Neferestan cried, and he straightened to his full height. 'Now it is my turn!'

Ghyll turned with a start toward the archmage, and then froze, unable to move. Helplessly, he watched the undead shaking off his chains and pulling the grimoire with his fleshless hands from under Vasthul's limp body.