Book of The Dead

Lady Sathin was frustrated. The prospect of imminent invasion by a crazed, murderous Necromancer was, in her opinion, more than sufficient reason for the Noble houses of the Southern Province to put aside their differences and politicking to work together to preserve their lands and people, but not everyone seemed to share her enthusiasm. While the Western Province remained a smouldering ruin—its citizens purged by the hand of the Emperor and every Noble line that lived there extinguished—it was a powerful object lesson to the southern houses, who, however reluctantly, were prepared to work together to prevent such a fate befalling them, but they were still so frustratingly slow about it.

House Leerly in the southwest and House Orinos in the north, being on the border and the most at risk, were more than happy to cooperate, and her correspondence with them had been fruitful. Lord Commander Trevan had met with his counterparts in the other houses and had begun to coordinate their strategy. The border regions were being evacuated and the three houses were working together to ensure that their scouts covered every nook and cranny of the desert while they hunted for any sign of the coming invasion.

It was the inland Nobles who enjoyed a comfortable buffer zone between themselves and the sands that were dragging their feet and demanding the bulk of her time.

”The War Administration and the Emperor himself are demanding that they mobilise. What is taking them so long?” she said, exasperated.

Her cousin, the Priest Miriem, did her best to soothe her.

”They have mobilised. Every house in the South has gathered its people, raised their militias and complied with the Imperial Mandate. They don’t have a death wish, Ariez. If the Golden Legion were deployed here and they hadn’t complied, they’d all be murdered in a heartbeat.”

”So why is it so hard to get them to work with us,” the Lady retorted, gesturing to the table full of letters in front of her. She picked one up at random. ”House Virraz, refuses to deploy their Soldiers. This one, House Lolon, full of flowery apologies. They’re all the same!”

”Because they are terrified, cousin,” Miriem replied, rolling her eyes.

”So why aren’t they helping us fight?” Lady Sathin exclaimed. ”If they are scared of the Necromancer, then help us kill the damned fool.”

”They are scared of the Necromancer, yes, which is one reason why they are trying to keep their Soldiers as close to home as they possibly can, but they are also scared of the Duke. They are scared of making a misstep and having their entire bloodline expunged by the Emperor. Until a single authority steps forward to assume command, someone on whom the blame will fall if they get things wrong, the houses are hesitant to make any sort of move that they haven’t received directly in an Imperial missive.””So why doesn’t the Duke step forward? This is his damned Province.”

”Exactly the same reason. The Court has received word that the Golden Legion will be sending a decorated General to take command when they arrive. The Duke is hoping to avoid making any major decisions until that time so he can’t be held responsible for doing something wrong.”

”And if doing nothing is exactly what he will be held responsible for?”

”That is the calculation he is trying to make. Believe it or not, the Duke isn’t doing nothing. He has complied with the Mandate, rallied the houses, drafted the militia, readied the Soldiers. Every city in the South is preparing for war, stockpiling supplies, patrols are up on every major road, Metalsmiths and Arcanists have been co-opted into the military supply chain. There is a great deal happening, considering nobody has seen a single walking bone yet.”

”But they won’t send their forces to the border.”

”That, they will not do.”

Lady Sathin nodded, took a deep breath and pushed out her frustrations along with her exhalation. There was no benefit to holding onto her grievances. People were scared, they weren’t certain how to act and wanted to preserve their house and bloodline, exactly the same motivations that she herself possessed. Railing against the Duke and houses wouldn’t serve her interests at all, only up their backs and foster resentment.

Having calmed herself, she could think a little more clearly.

”I will have to consider my next correspondence before I put pen to page,” she said. ”Who was the next person to see me?”

There had been an endless line of supplicants to the palace since the evacuation order had gone out. Mayors, local council representatives, Merchants, Farmers, all protesting the sudden and harsh demand that they abandon their lands. She had done her best to emphasise the very real danger they faced, but the reality was, nobody had seen a skeleton marching over the sands, so they felt she was jumping at ghosts.

”Magister Farn,” Miriem said, checking her list.

”The Magister is here? Let him in! How long has he been waiting?”

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”A few hours. He joined the line just like everyone else. We assumed that whatever he wanted wasn’t hugely urgent.”

Miriem waved away her cousin’s glare as she exited the study to speak with the chamberlain outside. A few moments later, a middle-aged man with a finely trimmed beard and attired in red robes approached her desk before bowing deeply at the waist.

”Lady Sathin, it is wonderful to stand in your radiant presence once more.”

Standing, the Noble Lady schooled her expression. Why did this man always have to be so unctuous?

”Flattery notwithstanding, it is good to see you again, Magister Farn. How are matters within the Red Tower?”

Straightening, the Mage straightened his robes with a frown as he contemplated the central authority of his organisation in the South.

”Busy. We have been most busy indeed.”

”Nothing too stressful, I hope?”

”Suppressing rebellion and keeping the Slayers in their place is a full-time responsibility, and one that has sadly distracted from my research as of late.”

”I had heard there had been difficulties at several of the Slayer Keeps,” Lady Sathin said. ”Is everything under control?”

”We believe so. We needed to make an example of a few rabble-rousers, and the number of my order deployed into the field is double what it was last year. As I said, we have indeed been very busy.”

”Has there been any issues at Burning Dunes Keep?”

It was the closest to where they currently sat, although still outside of the lands ruled by House Sathin.

”There have been issues at every Keep,” Magister Farn said solemnly.

”Please, I forget my manners. Do sit, Magister Farn. There is no need for you to stand and answer my questions. Do tell me what brings you to my study today.”

”I thank you, my lady.”

As the Mage organised his robes and sat, Lady Sathin pulled in her chair while Miriem did the same to the side.

”I have come to offer the support of the Red Tower, Lady Sathin. We Magisters fear that you have been entirely correct in your assessment of the threat and have been taking steps to ensure we are ready to meet it. The Southern Province cannot be allowed to fall as the West did, riddled with traitors and heretics. We will stand with you against the darkness and preserve the Empire for the Divines.”

He nodded to Miriem, who smiled back, but her eyes remained cold. She was no fan of the Red Tower.

”This is welcome news indeed, Magister Farn. I have been attempting to rally the houses to defend the borderlands for several days now, to no avail. Any and all help is welcome, however, I must ask what form this assistance will take?”

The red-robed Mage raised a hand to stroke his chin, emphasising the pointed trim of his beard. She tried not to roll her eyes.

”We are prepared to deploy a number of Magisters and Slayers to the lines to assist your people in whatever way they can, my lady.”

”Slayers?” Lady Sathin asked, confused. ”You have Slayers volunteering to fight the undead?”

”Volunteering? I wouldn’t say that, no. We have a number of individuals who have been disciplined sufficiently that they have become... pliant. We need to make an example of these traitors and rebels, that is our duty as Magisters, and it is the duty of the Slayers to defend the people, is it not? In this way, we are both serving our purpose.”

They tortured the Slayers until they were willing to fight, in other words. Distasteful.

”And how many of these Slayers are you prepared to send us?”

”A hundred. We have made a similar offer to your neighbouring houses, but we cannot provide too many. Each of these Slayers is gold rank, and each pair will have a Magister to ensure their compliance.”

A hundred gold ranked Slayers and fifty Mages from the Red Tower. It wasn’t much, but it wasn’t nothing either. Since they were cooperating with the houses to the north and south, this was effectively three hundred gold ranked warriors and a hundred and fifty highly trained Mages added to the border force. Again, it wasn’t much, but it was welcome.

”I will accept your offer gladly, Magister Farn,” she said, rising from her seat. The others in the room matched her and stood, the Magister bowing obsequiously low once more.

”We are here to serve, Lady Sathin,” he said.

”Please, confer with Lord Commander Trevan about how your people might be best utilised. I will send a note that he is to see you immediately. You have been kept waiting long enough.”

”I am grateful, my lady.”

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the Magister left the study, Miriem closing the door behind him. When she turned back, she found her cousin already scribbling away on a new letter.

”Tortured Slayers on the front lines? Aren’t they just going to go mad and kill everyone around them in their sleep?” Miriem said dryly.

”We are desperate for help. I won’t turn them away in our hour of need.”

”They may cause more harm than they help.”

”They might not.”

”Well, that’s encouraging.”

Miriem sighed, wondering if she should press further, but something out the window caught her eye. Her cousin’s study was on the fourth floor of the palace, the grand window behind her giving a stunning view of the city below, stretching out to the wall and beyond, to the endless dunes of the great desert in the far distance. At this time of day, the glaring sun was oppressive, beating down on the people and creating an endless heat haze that rose from the sands.

So why did it appear as though dark clouds were gathering on the horizon?

”Cousin, is there a storm expected from the desert today?” she asked, peering as she drew closer to the window.

Not looking up, the Lady Sathin snorted in an unladylike fashion.

”In summer? Have you lost your mind?”

Miriem tapped her cousin on the shoulder then pointed out the window.

”Then what is that?”

Frowning, the Noble stared at her cousin, then out the window. It was difficult to see clearly, even with her Unseen-enhanced eyes, but in the desert, far beyond the city walls, there was a gathering darkness, a shadow upon the dunes that visibly grew each second they stared at it.

”That,” she said, ”is an invasion.”