Defiant Necromancer (Book 2 stubbed)

“You brought Sugar,” Esmerelda said. Her voice started out happy, then shifted to more sad than relieved as she took in the sight before her.

Dero crouched there, clutching the dead horse, fingers working gently through the mane.

She seemed almost as affected by the presence of the creature as Esmerelda was.

The vampire knight stood frozen, staring, unwilling or unable to approach the horse, for a few seconds.

It’s funny how you can kill hundreds of humans, but one horse, or one falcon, can mean so much to you, Tybalt thought.

“So, you fled home with a horse?” he asked after a moment, just to break the tension in the air.

“Yeah,” Esmerelda said without breaking her stare at the beast. “She was my best friend.” Almost as soon as the words were out, she turned to give Tybalt a defensive glare, waiting for him to mock her.

“I get it,” he said. “Having an animal companion can be better than being stuck with humans. It often is. People are… complicated. Not always in a good way.”

He naturally thought of Valmont. During the attack on Whadesgart by Eolas, the falcon had taken refuge in a birdkeeper’s aviary. Tybalt had discussed the matter with the birdkeeper. Most of his other birds had simply fled the port, all but an old deaf pigeon. So he’d been happy to take a small sum from Tybalt to care for the bird. The necromancer could visit whenever he wanted, and he didn’t have to worry that Val would get shot by an arrow or burnt to death by a dragon at any random moment of Tybalt’s adventures.

He didn’t need Val for scouting. He could raise as many undead scouting creatures as he wanted. Keeping the falcon at his side had been sentiment and vanity.

But he had still visited a few times since then.

“People are mostly scum,” Esmerelda said. “But you either have to put up with them or slit their throats. I don’t have that much murder in me.”

“You didn’t,” Tybalt corrected. “Before. You drained one of your own bandit subordinates, not half an hour ago.”

“Seems like she’ll fit right in,” Dero said, rising. “Where do you want this?”

“Ritual circle there,” Tybalt said, pointing. “Thanks, Dero.”

“Oh, you know I live to serve,” the dark elf replied ironically as she half-dragged, half-carried the horse across the sand.

Tybalt turned and looked at Esmerelda, who looked hard back at him.

“What?” she asked finally.

“How much do you love this horse?” he said.

“We’re very fond of each other. Why?”

“I noticed your class and skills complement a mounted fighting style.”

She simply nodded.

“How would you feel about being permanently bonded to the creature? You would feel what she’s feeling, be able to see what she sees? But it’s an unbreakable link.”

“Have you done this before?” Dero asked, looking at him curiously.

He shook his head without a word, his eyes on Esmerelda’s face as she visibly wrestled with the decision.

It’s a great gift that none of my other creatures have been given, but your circumstances make you right for it, he thought. If you want it.

The ability to join the consciousness of two separate undead was a random bit of knowledge that he had from Unholy Forces. One of Tybalt’s predecessors had been keenly interested in the soul.

A bit of research on joining two souls had given birth to a ritual that would normally seem like a bit of a waste of effort, but now that he had the Undeath Ritual skill, it was mainly a matter of shaping his intent. He already had the appropriate sacrifice, the one surviving bandit who still remained, lying on the ground, bound and gagged, having already soiled himself as his fellows were sacrificed or consumed by wendigos.

“Would she feel everything I feel too?” Esmerelda asked finally, biting her lower lip.

“Only if you want her to. It’s a master-subordinate connection, much like what I have with all my undead.”

Tybalt could feel the slight wave of relief waft off of her at his answer. Perhaps feeling everything that Esmerelda felt was something unpleasant that she didn’t want to inflict on her pet.

“Then yes, please,” she said.

“Excellent.”

Another step forward in winning my new vampire’s willing allegiance.

“Stand beside the horse,” Tybalt instructed.

Esmerelda complied instantly, no longer testing his patience or asserting her independence by questioning, now that he was giving her something she wanted.

Just need a little bit of her body to bind them…

Tybalt drew a dagger and pricked Esmerelda’s finger, then smeared a drop of her blood over the horse’s nostrils.

Then he began the Undeath Ritual.

As before, he chanted and called upon the power that had been given to him by the Death God, acting as a conduit for chthonic forces and reshaping death itself into a new form. As usual, the man who’d been picked as the sacrificial victim screamed, a horrendous piercing sound that might reasonably have made everyone present question the life choices that had led to them being here for this.

The difference was in a slightly different feeling that emanated from the center of the ritual circle. As Tybalt raised Esmerelda’s horse, he felt both the usual sense of new presence in the undead being created, but also the energy of the bond forming.

He had never performed a wedding rite, despite being the High Priest of Mudo. He’d been busy with more pressing matters for some months now. But that was the closest thing his mind could use as an analogy.

He felt as if he was in the midst of performing a wedding, and the bond between the two undead being formed in front of him was palpable, a spiritual manifestation of love and undying loyalty.

The horse’s body glowed and shifted and began to move as the light around it gleamed too brightly for the necromancer to see precisely what was happening.

New type of creation generated, bonus experience granted!

Success.

In the next moment, the horse rose to its feet beside Esmerelda, and the light faded.

Tybalt saw the creature in full, and his breath caught. The body had turned completely black, the mane a silvery gray that almost matched Esmerelda’s. The eyes, nostrils, and hooves glowed with ethereal purple fire.

“A Soulfire Nightmare,” Esmerelda said.

The necromancer blinked and turned to look at her.

Oh, she’s checking its status screen, he realized after a moment. That’s what kind of undead I’ve created, huh? A Soulfire Nightmare.

Esmerelda looked at the horse, and it lowered itself so she could more easily climb onto its back. She mounted and then grinned down at Tybalt. It was the most joy he’d seen from her in their brief acquaintanceship.

“You’ve made a good first impression,” Dero observed, moving over to stand by Tybalt’s side, staring at the horse just as Tybalt was. The flickering purple flames were captivating. “She really likes that creature.”

“So it would seem,” he said.

I’ll keep Esmerelda close to my side for a while, and hopefully this ‘good first impression’ will set in permanently.

***

Hours later, after reuniting his vampire knight with her horse and returning with all his new creations to Humun, Tybalt passed a pleasurable hour in the company of his newest fiancee.

Kistana muttered something about performing her duties for Tybalt before they started, but she certainly seemed to get into it.

By the time they were finished, when Vidalia knocked softly on the door, Kistana had left bite marks up and down Tybalt’s neck and shoulder and claw marks all over his upper back. She looked slightly embarrassed when her eyes fell on the marks, as if she’d lost control of herself. That just made the necromancer feel prouder of his performance.

Kistana reddened slightly when Tybalt opened the door and let the foxgirl in, but she made no move to cover herself.

“Lady Vidalia,” the catgirl said. “Did we disturb you?”

“Oh no, I’m glad Tybalt’s making sure you get your exercise, kitty-cat,” Vidalia said, winking. “I’ll join the two of you next time, all right?”

I think it’s up to Kistana whether she’s willing to accept that.

“Whatever you say, my lady,” the catgirl replied almost instantly, lowering her head with a little smile.

All right, then.

“For now, just lay there and look cute while Tybalt and I check on some of the things the snake lady’s spirits mentioned. Oh, and protect us, of course.”

Kistana had started to nod, but those last words made a silly grin break out on her face, and she mouthed an “Of course” in agreement with Vidalia.

Tybalt sat back down in the bed, Vidalia hopped up between him and Kistana, and the necromancer found himself instantly asleep.

***

“It was good to see you again, Samara,” Tybalt said.

“You’re not leaving yet already, are you, m-master?”

The paladin was tied to a pair of crossed planks of thick wood, arms and legs carefully secured, wearing nothing but rope.

Tybalt hadn’t done anything but toy with her yet. That was deliberate.

“I need some information. Be a good girl and tell me about the people you’re with right now.”

Samara swallowed and lowered her gaze, suddenly shame-faced.

“Master, I—”

“I haven’t asked you anything harmful. Right now, I just want to know which people around you are important. You belong to me. I need to make sure you’re in good company, don’t I?”

She raised her eyes slightly, then dropped them again. She gave the slightest nod.

She’s almost fully broken now, Tybalt thought.

“I recently arrived in Enh,” Samara said. “I’m with the inquisitors from the Trust and General Caracalla. General Sevenhills escorted us here, and he had his son with him.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, master.”

“Was there anything special about Sevenhills and his son?”

“He asked if General Caracalla would be willing to take his son with him into the battle with- ” She paused, and her eyes widened- “Wait, are you—”

“Don’t ask questions if you don’t want to know the answers to them,” Tybalt said instantly. He put a hand on her knee, and Samara instantly shifted her body, trying to shift his fingers toward the space between her thighs.

“You, um, just a few inches to the left, and- ”

“Why are you still in Enh? When will the Army move?”

She hesitated. “I shouldn’t be telling you- ”

“Forget about the Army for now. What about your sister?”

“My sister?”

He moved to cup her sex, and she started to breathe more heavily at the slight contact closer to where she wanted it.

“You said you’re in Enh now. Have you seen your sister, the High Priestess? The Great Temple of Astara is in Enh.”

“N-no, she can’t move freely,” she said in a rush.

“I see. The Kingdom is restricting her actions?”

“Yes, master.” Samara looked surprised by what she’d already said.

“Why are you so worried about keeping their secrets, then?”

“I-I have told you their secrets.”

“You have told me the things that anyone around you would know. There are secrets that only you and a few others could tell me, and you’re keeping them to yourself.”

“No…”

“Tell me why the Army is still in Enh. Why haven’t you and the inquisitors marched off to destroy heretics?”

“I - you’re making me break my vows.”

He moved his hand to her entrance and stroked her gently, almost teasingly. She closed her eyes and licked her lips.

Then he stopped.

“Please more,” she said quietly.

“You should swear new vows, to me, Samara,” Tybalt said. “Every time I ask you to do some little thing or answer a simple question, it’s ‘my vows’ this and ‘my vows’ that. How much pleasure have your vows ever given you?”

“Blasphemous,” she said quietly.

“But you want to do it.”

“I…”

“Tell me about the Army. Tell me why it’s not marching yet. What are you doing? What is the Army doing?”

“Pr-preparations,” Samara whined. “You have… You have hinted that you have some experience with military affairs. You must know about that.”

Tybalt was slightly taken aback. She was retaining more from the dreams than he might have expected.

“What sort of preparations?” he pressed.

“C-can’t tell you,” she said, her voice husky with need. “But please…”

“Good girls get to come,” he said. He grabbed her ass with his right hand and her neck with his left and pulled the paladin into a kiss while his fingers went wild, groping her muscular flesh. He pulled away, leaving her lips opening and closing on empty air. “But you’re being disobedient.”

He turned away.

“No, please…”

“Last chance, Samara. This could be important for me. You want to help me, don’t you?”

“I-I do, but…”

“No buts. Take a few days, and think about it.”

Samara made little pleading noises but didn’t say anything else. She was fighting a battle of wills with herself. For now, she seemed able to resist.

That’s fine. We still have a little time.

The necromancer made himself disappear.

“Vidalia, leave her tied to those posts for the rest of her dream tonight. I want her to think about this.”