Blood and Honor

Weak as her blow was, it was effective. Her sword struck home, and a flare of silver light singed the zombie’s hide. It dropped back into a crouch. Thalin reared to trample the foul creature, but the zombie caught his forehooves in midair, holding horse and rider back with incredible strength. There was a brief impasse, and then the undead twisted to one side, throwing Thalin to the ground.

Brey leaped from the saddle, hit the ground and rolled to her feet. Her sword and armor felt like they were made of lead. She was vaguely aware of similar struggles going on all around her, but she kept her eyes locked on the zombie as it loped toward her. For the first time, she noticed that its hide, where it was visible between the plates of its armor—had been tattooed with strange-looking symbols. She murmured a prayer to the Silver Flame and waited for the attack.

A beam of black energy slammed into her chest, dropping her to her knees. She looked up in surprise to see another zombie standing behind the first with one arm outstretched. Her sword fell from her hand; she tried to stand but couldn’t. Then something heavy hit her from behind, and she lost consciousness.

“She’s coming around!”

Rangers gathered round as Brey struggled to sit up. Like them, she had been stripped of her armor and weapons. Even her Silver Flame pendant was gone. She and her rangers were crowded together in a small rock-hewn cell, separated from a larger chamber by a wall of stout iron bars. The only light came from a flickering brazier in the outer chamber.

“Egen,” she murmured. Her second-in-command leaned over her.

“Captain,” he said. “Drosin and Neskus are dead, but everyone else is alive. Talandro’s in a bad way, though.”

Brey struggled to her feet. Her neck and shoulders ached where she had been struck from behind. Talandro lay at the back of the cell, pale and scarcely breathing. Focusing her thoughts on a mental image of the Silver Flame, she knelt over him. With one hand on his head and the other on her chest, she began to pray. After a moment, his eyes fluttered, then opened.

“Captain?” he said, weakly. She placed a finger on his lips.

“Save your strength,” she said. He nodded feebly and closed his eyes again, lapsing into a deep and peaceful sleep almost immediately. She turned back to Egen.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“As far as I can tell, we’re still in Cyre,” he replied. “At any rate, we didn’t cross the river. We marched for about three hours—I couldn’t tell the direction because they had us blindfolded—and that’s all I know.”

“So the Karrns have a base in Cyre,” Brey said, half to herself. “Have you seen any troops other than the lancers and those undead?”

Egen shook his head. “What are those things, anyway?” he asked. “Zombies don’t use magic.”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Some new Karrnathi abomination.”

A door banged in the outer chamber, and they turned to see a slender, robed elf enter the room, flanked by two zombies. With a shock, they recognized the faces of their dead comrades, Drosin and Neskus. Branded into their flesh was a badge of some kind—a skull with the numbers six and one. They glowered malevolently at their former comrades.

“No!” Brey half-shrieked, gripping the bars. The elf gave her a nasty smile.

Brey glared at him. His skin was pale even for an elf, and his eyes set deep within dark rings. The embroidery on his robes was in the Aerenal style, which surprised her. Elves found in the company of Karrns were usually Valenar mercenaries. He produced a ring of keys.

“You stay where you are,” he ordered Brey. “The rest of you, against the back wall, with your hands on your heads!” At a gesture from him, the zombies drew their swords.

“We are prisoners of war!” shouted Egen. “We have rights!”

The elf chuckled dryly. “We don’t worry much about the Articles of War here,” he said. “And you should know that anyone who fails to comply will be forced to watch their comrades die—very slowly, and very painfully. And then”—he gestured at Drosin and Neskus—“they will rise like these two, and tear you apart.”

Brey held up a hand.

“Do as he says,” she told the rangers. Reluctantly, they backed away from her. The elf unlocked the door and motioned her out of the cell. Drosin and Neskus stood each side of her as the elf turned to lock the door again.

“Flee before the wrath of the Silver Flame!” Brey screamed, throwing her arms in the air. The zombies did not even flinch. Something was very wrong here.

“I’m afraid not,” said the elf. “We have been working on correcting that weakness—among others.” Drosin and Neskus each took hold of one of her arms. She struggled, but their grip was unbreakable. They were much stronger than they had been in life.

As they marched Brey through a succession of stonewalled passages, she saw several other elves, and even a couple of half-elves and humans. They all had the same unhealthy pallor as her captor. Zombies shuffled to and fro, apparently on various errands.