A Needle In A Haystack

“I have failed to secure the target my Lord.”

Elias bowed his head while he addressed me. He was older, in his sixties I think, but still in great shape. Clearly his decades as a blacksmith had treated him well and now, as my captain, he practiced daily with the men. He wasn’t the best fighter, he had spent most his life making blades, not wielding them, but there was nobody as loyal. He would gladly throw his life away for me. Not only was he willing to sacrifice his son, but he had launched himself into his work and was not hesitant when it came to defended me. That he had failed for now vexed him more than me.

Brandis would have had him carted to the dungeons and, at the very least, flogged. He had no patience for anything but success. It explained why so many of his men were fanatical in their attacks when we had assaulted the place. It was better to be dead than a failure in Brandis’ kingdom. Most days they probably took advantage of their positions, and when we came, they thought we were just a problem to deal with to get back to all the debauchery. Little did they know we would leave a small genocide in or wake.

“We’ll find her. Pontious is still on her trail. Just because she eluded you this time, does not mean we won’t get her next time. That she hasn’t fled back to August is telling. Maybe she wants to save what’s left of her companions. Maybe she thinks she can finish the job and end my life. She has clearly been connected with Brandis’ supporters. I wonder if she knows, and if she does, I wonder how she feels about that? I’ll have to ask her when she is inevitably captured.”

I was confident she would be. A smart person would already be across the border and heading toward August’s palace. I would be so disappointed if she tried again. She and her cohort had failed spectacularly. Sure, they had gotten farther than any before them, but I had the impression it was mostly luck. Assaulting me again alone would be tantamount to suicide. I didn’t just leave gaping holes where they had killed my soldiers. Still, she remained for some reason and I had become very curious.

“As you wish my Lord.”

I had almost forgotten Elias was there. I motioned him to stand before he got frozen in a bow. He was stoic, regal in his armor. He was too serious, but I was grateful for the devotion to his tasks. This manhunt had changed his routine and he did not adjust well. Anyone else would have gotten a straight up refusal, but he did everything I asked without complaint. There was probably some complaint behind closed doors. I couldn’t make everyone happy all the time. I was king and heavy is the crown. But to my face, he was dutiful and respectful.

“Change of subject. What of the new recruits?”

“The replacements are coming along quite well. Ariadne insists on including her…” Elias paused. “Minions.”

“Well, an integrated force would be smart. I take it you disapprove?”

“They’re reanimated soldiers. They don’t think, fight, or anything like real people. I know they signed up for the body donor plan and their families have been compensated, but I knew these men.”

“And you find their animated corpses mingling with the new recruits distasteful?”

“Yes, Brandis did not use the undead.”

“Brandis is dead. Brandis had a cult of insane wizards, and he used daemons. Daemons! More likely they used him. Not the friendliest sort.”

“All true Lord. Please forgive.”

“There’s nothing to forgive General. I will have Ariadne box them until they’re needed and they will stay separate from the living. They stink anyway and it takes a whole fleet of resurrectionists to keep them washed and cleaned so they don’t rot further. Active dead are not the same as mummified remains in a sarcophagus evidently. Still, we need advantages. We don’t have daemons, and that’s a totally good thing, and we don’t have an unlimited supply of recruits. These dead are just one more weapon in our arsenal and it’s better than wasting lives.”

“As you say my Lord.”

I sighed heavily. It was understandable that he was wary of the dead. Brandis had refrained from necromancy in favor of throwing his lot in the daemons. Daemons who had their own interests and agendas. Daemon’s who fled the minute Brandis fell. Whatever deal they had struck was done and they fled to the other side of the portal, Brandis’ body in tow.

I had tried to destroy the stupid thing, but even the Covenwraith’s had no knowledge of how it was built. I just assumed it was Brandis’ master and settled with keeping the thing watched and sealed. It was the source of Brandis’ power and the source of daemons. If I couldn’t get rid of it, the least I could do was keep a lid on it. His entire court, save a few, had been possessed cultists who pictured him as some harbinger. The whole cult was centered around Brandis being the first wave of an end to everything good and decent. They even had a whole prophecy and everything.

Brandis would usher in a new age of slavery to daemonic forces and when his master finally emerged Brandis’ would be rewarded for his loyalty. At least, that was how the cult imagined it. Brandis was dead now, and the threat of whatever emerging from the portal had been thwarted. Ariadne had discovered the ritual to keep the portal closed and it wasn’t at all surprising that it required sacrifice. These were daemons and this portal presumably led to their realm and I didn’t think it would be kept closed by hugs and good energy.

“Double the efforts. Take out a legion of these walking dead. They are untested and you need to be more comfortable with them. Find her and bring her to me. If you have a chance, use her friends as bait. Tell her their still alive and in my dungeons. She doesn’t need to know their condition, or even if their still even alive. I’m sure she imagines she’s going to pull some eleventh hour stunt and save her friends, kill me, and liberate the kingdom. Of course, it’s a foolish notion, but how many people in stories say that? Fortunately, they’re written to make people feel better. To ride on false hope that even one person, no matter how misguided, can change the course of the world.”

Elias bowed and exited silently.