Milc/C.J. Milnes
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Chapter 49 - No one will know
🕑 Added 2025-01-27 14:48:53 +0000 UTCGrell smirked at me in reply. Crow's feet marred the otherwise smooth olive skin around his eyes and he held out his right hand. A ball of orange fire appeared floating above it. I feigned shock and stumbled backwards, deliberately knocking over my captains as I didn’t trust their acting skills at all. Direct, brutal and honest were the traits of my adopted people, subterfuge and subtlety were reserved for the oddballs like Kril.
“Aresk’s Balls!” I exclaimed in a passable impression of shock and fear. I fell backwards and landed on Jandak. “He’s not soulbound. He’s just got trinkets. Play along!” I whispered quietly in his ear. Fortunately Kril had leapt into the air and was bouncing up and down excitedly.
“I told you my dreams were true, Mond! Look, magic has returned to Urth! Master wizard, can you teach a humble Dreamer to wield such powers?” he gasped out, covering my quiet words to Jandak.
“Only those deemed worthy by King Mortimer are permitted to attend his school for the magical arts,” said Grell in a smug voice as the fire vanished. Five seconds and only a fist sized ball of orange flames. Since my recent spending spree my summon fire now produced a ball of blue-white flame the size of my head. Whoever had made these trinkets had not put many Souls into improving their spells.
“I’m sure some of my warriors would be worthy of such an honour,” I said as I stood back up and pulled a scowling Jandak to his feet. He flashed some hand signs to the others as he helped them back up. They glanced at me but nodded reluctantly.
“I’m afraid not but you might be worthy of retaining the services of a wizard. Perhaps this is a happy coincidence,” he took a seat on a cushion opposite me and I sat down as well. He scowled and flicked some lint from his robe, glancing unhappily up at Jagapan who was above us all on his throne. “I came to offer the chance for a respected tribe to receive wizards in exchange for pledges of fealty to Urkash. I was expecting one ‘king’ but now I find a pair of you! You barbarians are such colourful people.”
“Fealty to a city-lord? I’m not sure…” I began but Kril cut me off.
“What else can you do?” he hopped back onto his own cushion and gave the “wizard” a look of bright eagerness.
“No respect for authority,” Grell muttered. “We can heal injuries almost perfectly, cast fire, ice and lightning as well as cause weakness in our enemies.” Thanks Kril. So they’ve got the elemental affinities as well as life and death covered for trinkets. Useful to know.
“And what is the King of Urkash’s price?” I asked, pretending enthusiasm at the new information.
“To serve him. You would need to pay a tax, you people call it a tithe I believe, on all your earnings and your warriors would have to join him in times of war. My King is a wise and generous ruler who only seeks peace with his neighbours but some peoples are simpleminded peasants who cannot see the sense in his kindness. Already we have had to settle accounts with Settal, among other primitive cities.” Grell was waxing poetic, his voice flowing smoothly from one well rehearsed line to the next.
“What do you think, King Jagapan?” I asked.
“I think it would be a great sacrifice on my part,” grumbled the old king, his bronze eye reflecting the fire at me.
“Pfft. You should be honoured, Jagapan. If you do not accept, you'll find the northern towns closed to you for trade and you need the raw metals for your-” he sniffed pointedly, “-smith.”
“And why should this be a problem? The trade truce cuts both ways. If they won’t trade then we will raid.” Jagapan leaned back and crossed his arms.
“Those towns are under the protection of Urkash now. You would not like the reprisals should a cadre of my brothers be sent to deal with you.” Icy confidence: Grell truly believed what he said. How many of these buggers had old Morty trained and equipped with trinkets? How far behind the curve was I?
“Nonetheless. Nomads rule the steppe. You’d not be able to chase us down and we’d be constantly cutting at your flanks,” Jagapan replied with a toothy smile. Grell sniffed again. Perhaps sniffing was the shit-sitter equivalent to the tribe's constant spitting?
“You could not stand against us, mighty king,” Grell said sarcastically. “I am here to offer peaceful terms, not badger and harangue. I apologise. I will excuse myself for now. Perhaps we can speak again tomorrow?” Grell asked as he rose to his feet. Jagapan grunted and nodded.
The air freshened noticeably as the wizard and his bandaged men left the tent. Jagapan snorted and moved to get some wood from a corner. He tossed it on the fire then sat back down on his throne.
“No aurox-shit. What do you think?” he glared at me. My acting may not have been all I’d hoped it was.
“I don’t trust him. A man like that at my side… I’d end up dancing to his drum and not the other way around,” I replied carefully.
“You’d seen them before. His guards. Jandak would have attacked them if you hadn’t interfered. Tell me why you hate them, Jandak?”
“Lord, they seemed off to me,” Jandak hedged, glancing from the king to Kril and myself.
“No lies, warrior,” I said and nodded to him. Jandak sighed then turned to face Jagapan properly.
“They are dead men, made to walk with magic. They’re hard to kill,” he said simply.
“The smell? That doesn’t prove what you say. Is this simple superstition?” Jagapan asked.
“No. We’ve dealt with their kind before,” I interrupted as Jandak opened his mouth to reply. “Only damaging the brain will truly stop them. If they took off those bandages you’d see rotting faces and the rictus grins of those already taken by the god of the dead.”
“Hadesti’s minions? The gods haven’t troubled us for a long while but here you are with Aresk’s mark on your shoulder and too many herbs for trade. You’ve a pet smith as well and wanted to steal Sulk away from me to join you in the north. Oh don’t bother denying it.” I’d opened my mouth to deny it. “I was a young leader once as well. I know how you think. Or how Kril thinks at least. Who is the master here?” he glanced between myself and my rascally mentor.
“Mond is my god-marked lord and I am sworn to serve him until death. He commands and I obey,” Kril said in a serious voice.
“Hah, so a bit of both, then?” Jagapan said with a grin and Kril cackled back at him. “This is a lot for me to think about. Do you have anything else you’d like to share, King Mond?” He fixed me with a glare, one eye brown and the other bronze.
“Urkash isn’t the only source of magic. I know another. In the north we are going to mine the grey metal-” I began.
“-Iron. It’s called iron.” Jagapan muttered.
“Iron and then make steel which is much stronger. We will sweep across the steppes in the near future with new ways of fighting. Once I unite the tribes we’ll ride south and teach the shit-sitters who the real power is in this world!” I declared, channeling my inner dictator.
“Perhaps I don’t know how you think then. That’s ambition beyond anything I’d thought possible! I like you kid. You’ve got balls. I look forward to the next spring festival! Now piss off and let me think. I’ve lost my appetite but I’ll have some food sent to your tents.” We departed, nodding our heads to the man brooding on his fancy chair as we left.
“Where are they?” hissed Jandak.
“I know where his tent is but now isn’t the time. I’ll deal with it after dark. Just keep your shit together, bloke. We do not want this Grell character to get away.” I’d resolved that he had to die. Not a chance was I letting him take a description of my physical appearance back to Mortimer. The height and my eye colour alone would give the game away. Glimpse was perched on a nearby wagon, staring down at the unmoving zombies as they guarded the tent Grell had retreated to.
We didn’t speak until we were back at our camp and I dismissed the captains to go and join the rest of our party. I went into my tent to find four large hide-shaped ingots of bronze waiting for me. I resisted the urge to dump them in my storage space. I was going to need all my mana this evening. Kril swung the flap aside and swanned in like he owned the place, glaring at me as I turned to face him.
“He knows,” Kril hissed quietly.
“Grell? I think we fooled that arrogant-”
“-not that fraud. Jagapan. He knows you’re Shikrakyn for sure. The only question is what he does about it!” Kril interrupted me.
“We could use him on our side. He seems like a decent bloke. A bit hot headed maybe.”
“He’s not a hot head! Wait till you meet the Koprigyn shits! He’s a smart man, he has to play the bully in front of his warriors. The Jagarnyn are looked down on by the rest of us. And we’re jealous too,” he muttered. “Too much metal, not enough herds. They’re all battle-mad as a result,” Kril added.
“Should we leave? We’ve got the metal. With Klip we don’t need Sulk. He’d be a boon but he’s not vital to our plans anymore.”
“Not yet. We’ll see what the dawn brings. What are your plans for Grell?” I feigned a thoughtful expression then grinned.
“I think mister Grell is going to vanish during the night without a trace,” I said.
“Best do it quietly. These warriors won’t take kindly to it if you’re caught. We can cut our way clear no doubt but it will make it impossible to ally with Jagapan,” advised my mentor.
“No one will know. Knocking people off and getting away with it is something I’ve gotten very good at and I didn’t even have magic before!” I chuckled and Kril cackled. I couldn’t help but worry that my laughter sounded almost as evil as the old man’s.
The moons were both thin slivers of light in the sky when I slipped out of my tent in a mucky green tunic rather than my royal red clothes. Glimpse circled above me and I had a birds eye view of all the nearby Jagarnyn warriors. I went north, away from the palisade until I was able to duck into the shadow of a wagon.
I stripped off my tunic and boots, hiding them in the darkness behind one of the wheels, and when I was naked I used a spell I’d been eagerly looking forward to playing with. Sixty mana vanished and my skin became a matt black from head to foot. I lifted the pair of flint daggers I’d brought with me then rubbed them in the mud to hide the faint gleam they gave off in the thin light.
I slipped between the wagons and headed for Grell’s tent. I paused occasionally to let a wandering warrior pass me by and fretted as I counted down the duration of the spell in my head. I had one minute and forty seconds per cast. I’d chosen to infiltrate the town as close to grell’s tent as I could and fortunately, possibly due to the stench of his undead guards, he had been placed only a couple of rows inside the outer wall of wagons. I had forty seconds left when I paused next to the yurt along from my soon to be victims.
Four zombies. I had to break their brains to put them down. Glimpse let me know that I was in the clear and I cast Enhancement on myself. I became almost sixty percent stronger and faster for ten seconds and I chose to make the most of them.
The undead were arranged in pairs either side of the entrance to Grell’s tent and I blurred across the three metres separating us. A blade slammed into the base of each of their skulls and they sagged as I tried to snatch the blades back. I had not made a sound thus far.
One of my blades snagged and snapped, the crack making me skittish as I whirled to the other two who were turning to me in what seemed like slow motion. They pulled iron swords from their hips but I was next to them before the blades were halfway out. One got the still whole knife driven upwards through its throat and the last took the stub of my remaining dagger to its temple, knocking it sideways. I abandoned the still intact blade in the third zombie's brain and threw myself onto number four. My fist rose and fell twice. The meaty thuds turned the skull into a concave mess, brains leaking around the sides of my fist. I heaved the last two into a pile on top of my first pair of victims then spent forty mana to dump the zombie corpses and their equipment into my pocket dimension. My shapeshifting ran out and I found myself naked, unarmed and painted red and pink over my right forearm.
Reanimated Humano Slain x4
Sixty Souls gathered.
I ducked into the tent ready for violence but Grell was still asleep, his robe tossed in a pile in the corner of the yurt. His fingers were still covered by his many rings so I had to do this without him waking up and firing off any magic.
I stepped forward slowly, the dry dirt rough on my bare feet. I could throttle him? Or punch him unconscious perhaps? Either option would give him the chance to cast something though. I didn’t want to kill him. Ideally I wanted to take him prisoner and smuggle him out of the camp. Glimpse was still circling overhead so I knew I was currently in the clear from the Jagarnyn. A revelation struck me!
I spent another forty manna and the man vanished into my dimensional pocket, along with all his goods. Whether he would survive or not I couldn’t be sure but I’d noticed food held in my storage space didn’t rot as it would in the outside world. I hurried over and pulled his robe over my body. It was too short for me but I slouched down as best I could. Another sixty mana vanished as I shaped his face and hair over my own.
Then I strolled out of the camp through the main palisade and walked off into the darkness of the steppe, making sure the guards got a damn good look at me in the faint light of the moons. I had to recast minor shapeshifting three times before I was far enough from the warriors at the town entrance that they wouldn’t notice me reverting back to my own appearance. The robes should be enough to confirm who the stranger wandering onto the plains alone had been when they were quizzed in the morning.
Once I was confident I was clear I crouched low and made my way back to my tent, hopefully with no one the wiser. As I swung the flap up Kril leapt at me with a dagger in his fist but I batted him away.
“It’s me you fool! It’s done.” Above me a crow cawed happily in the night.
