Blood and Honor

“To horse!” she yelled, waving her sword in a circle above her head and running to Thalin. The great white war-horse was jerking his head and whinnying, as if trying to raise the alarm himself. She leaped into the saddle and rode off at a gallop, heading west along the riverbank with her rangers behind her. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that they had spotted the Karrns in time—lightly armed rangers would not have stood a chance against a wedge of lancers charging down that slope.

Their orders were to avoid contact with the enemy. The Inmistil Rangers were deep behind enemy lines, scouting potential crossing-points for a planned invasion.

She glanced backward. The rangers were riding flat out. The Karrns followed along the top of the ridge, but were slower with their heavier armor and equipment. Around the next bend, she knew, was a gentle slope that would lead them up and away from the river. They should be able to outdistance their pursuers.

Then she saw the undead. Formed up in a block, a couple of dozen armored zombies stood between the Thranes and escape. Another glance backward told Brey that the lancers were not far behind. They would have to break through the undead quickly.

Thalin didn’t slacken his pace as she let go of the reins. Steering him with her knees, she held her sword aloft in one hand and her Silver Flame pendant in the other as she began the incantation. Flame willing, it should put some of the zombies to flight and disrupt their formation enough for the rangers to overrun them. Around her, rangers were drawing their shortbows and nocking arrows, still at full gallop.

She screamed the final syllable, but nothing happened. Not one of the zombies fled; this had never happened before. At least a few always broke in fear of the Flame.

A few dozen yards away, the lancers had stopped. Their lances were upright, not set for a charge. At the center of their line, a pennant fluttered from one lance: a letter V, surrounded by a wreath, over a pair of crossed lances. She made a mental note of it, for the report she would make if she survived.

Something was very wrong here. She had assumed that the zombies were meant to delay her rangers so the lancers could cut them to pieces, but now it seemed that the lancers had simply herded the Thranes into contact with the undead. Still, she thought, that gave them a chance. Even though she had failed to turn any of the zombies, her troops had the advantage of being mounted.

The rangers’ arrows rattled off the zombies’ shields as they galloped ever closer. In uncanny unison, the undead dropped their shields, and each raised an empty hand. A strange light flared briefly from beneath their armor, and bolts of dark energy filled the air.

The double impact caught Brey by surprise. Gasping in pain, she looked down at her chest; two holes penetrated her breastplate just below the sternum, but there was no sign of the missiles that had caused them. She heard cries of pain and anger from the other rangers. Her mind reeled—she had fought Karrnathi undead before, but these were using magic. How could that be?

Something small flew through the air, falling to the ground in front of the charging rangers. A pall of gray-green smoke blossomed out from it, briefly obscuring their view of the undead. Some of the horses shied, but they were moving too fast to stop. Brey put a hand on Thalin’s reins, but his pace didn’t waver.

She held her breath as she entered the cloud, but it was no use. The foul, stinging vapors filled her eyes and nose, making her head swim. Thalin coughed, whinnied in alarm, and began to slow down. The couple of seconds she spent inside the magical vapors seemed like an eternity. When she broke through at last, she slowed Thalin to a trot and looked around.

The spell had done its work. Although some of the rangers lad resisted the effects of the stinking cloud, about half of them were leaning forward in their saddles, retching uncontrollably. Many of the horses had pulled up short, and were roughing and shaking their heads, threatening to dislodge heir riders. The charge had been broken.

The zombies loped forward like wolves—faster than any zombies she had ever encountered—and Brey guessed they aimed to push the rangers back into the cloud. She couldn’t understand why they hadn’t drawn their weapons. Here and there, rays of coruscating light stabbed from their bony fingers, striking those rangers who were not incapacitated by the cloud. One struck her in the chest, and suddenly her whole body felt heavy. She could barely raise her sword as one of the zombies lunged for her with outstretched arms.