Revenant's Resolve Chapter 22

Well over two hours had gone by with Dzvina addressing notable matters of politics, the kingdom’s finances, and mediating inter-nobility disputes peacefully, before it could result in bloodshed. Each point of order had flowed cleanly and almost artfully into one another, despite how disparate the topics seemed.

Finally, the discussion turned to war. 

Dzvina read off generalized reports from the generals in the field to those gathered, assuring everyone that the matter of conflict was being taken well in hand by the army they’d raised to fight the invading Bessarbans. 

“And with that, I believe the boring matters have finally come to an end for the day.” Dzvina offered with a demure smile and a light, knowing chuckle. “Again, I thank you all for hearing the state of the kingdom, and lending the strength of your houses to its continued stability. That said, I believe we can call this to an en-“

“A moment of everyone’s time, actually!” Prince Vezemir interrupted his mother, who’s smile went suddenly wooden. “I have a rather momentous announcement to make.” 

Oh, I bet he’s going to make that announcement now.

This will certainly be interesting. 

Dzvina’s pale skin turned a shade lighter as she slowly turned her head to watch him with a completely frozen expression, save for her eyes, which clearly communicated her frustration. 

Oh. That’s exactly what’s happening!

“As you all know, our borders were grossly violated by Bessarba. Though we have sent many soldiers to quell the threat in our east, I feel as if the situation lacks the proper touch to demonstrate to our enemies, adversaries, and other neighbors that our borders are sovereign and not a matter of negotiation.” 

The Prince rose from his seat as Reznik heard Zarah sigh deeply beside him, briefly pinching the bridge of her nose before looking back up to the youth’s speech. 

Reznik briefly glanced around the room, searching the expressions of the nobles he could see around him curiously. 

Most were intrigued, some were skeptical, and several seemed to be grinning predatorily - as if they were waiting to hear this announcement. 

“I need not spend extra time espousing the strength of our nation and army, nor do I need to expound on my own ability. I may be a Prince this day, but on another, I will be your King. As my father lead our soldiers to glory in his time, I too, intend to display my capability and fitness for the throne. 

“In the coming fortnight, those who have been left alone by the specter of war will see their levies called up to task, and I will lead the army on the field of battle. I will send missives to the counts, lords, and dukes who have been passed over for the first wave tonight, and I expect your responsibilities to be met dutifully.” 

Reznik noted the moment Dzvina’s expression faltered. 

The woman closed her eyes and dropped her smile as she exhaled a heavy breath. Notably, what chased away her frozen smile wasn’t wrath, as Reznik expected, but a look of severe melancholy that dissipated quickly to return to placid calm. 

Vezemir surveyed the assembled nobility with an arch look of pride, a wry smile touching his lips before he turned fractionally over his shoulder towards his mother.

“With that, now we may adjourn this address, mother.” 

Dzvina looked down on Vezemir with a flat expression before she closed her eyes, licked her lips, and inhaled.

“Yes. I believe today’s business is… concluded.” She offered, opening her eyes to look back out on the audience. “Unfortunately, due to the rather frenetic goings-on, I believe the usual banquet is not in good taste. My apologies, and best wishes in wherever the winds of fate may carry you.” 

At that, she rose from her seat, turned, and exited the room through the door she’d entered through. 

Prince Vezemir, on the other hand, remained, greeting and shaking hands with several nobles as the majority of the audience stood and began to file out the exit of the great hall. The din of conversation steadily grew from a rumbling murmur to a continuous roar, and Reznik glanced over to Zarah hoping for instructions. 

“Prince Vezemir asked for us personally in that summons.” Zarah explained after she noticed his questioning stare. “That means he’ll likely schmooze for a bit, and then collect us to tell us whatever it is that he needed to. We can just sit here, and avoid the… -ahem- others.”

Offering an internal shrug, Reznik leaned back in his seat and patiently waited. 

And waited.

Eventually, after the vast majority of the room had emptied, Vezemir finally approached Zarah and him. 

"Ah, good, I’m happy you could make it, Zarah!” Vezemir greeted with a warm smile as Zarah rose to her feet before respectfully bowing. 

Oh, right.

I should probably kneel. Eh, or at least bow. 

Royalty and all that. 

Alright, let’s just bend at the waist, and…

Reznik slowly stood to his feet before tilting ever forward at the hips. 

Then, he overshot his goal, and kept bending forward until it became a stretch - pieces of his armor pushing at each other on his abdomen as he apparently tried to touch his toes with his nose. 

He didn’t even stop moving when his head slammed loudly against the back of the pew in front of him. 

“Prince Vezemir, that was an impressive speech you delivered just now.” Zarah complimented politely as Reznik attempted to work himself out of the position he’d stuck himself in without slamming the back of his helmet against the pew in front of him. “Your missive said you had some work for me, am I correct in assuming that it’s related?” 

“Mmm, not really, beyond it related to the general stability of the kingdom.” Vezemir nodded his head sideways and turned slightly to grab a folded, wax-sealed letter out of a pouch at his waist. He handed it to Zarah with an excited, almost-evil smile. “This should contain all the instructions and context you need to execute your task. It was too… sensitive to be handed to a courier, even a trusted one, and it’s entirely in-line with your skillset.”

Reznik twisted slightly at his neck and hips and managed to stand back to his feet without loudly slamming his head into the back of the pew. 

“I already sent a notice to Lord-Commander Tarron that I’m tasking you for this personally, and not to disturb you with any other tasks until it’s finished. I’ve already had a count and a baron complain to me about the… suspicious disappearances, along with a constable in the countryside informing me of an irregular sighting of undead, so I expect your best for this.” Prince Vezemir nodded respectfully at Zarah, then at Reznik. “Now, you’ll forgive me, but I have many preparations to make for my coming campaign, and little time.”

“I understand, your highness.” Zarah bowed briefly at Vezemir after placing the letter inside of a breast pocket in her coat. 

Oh, I guess I need to bow again.

Well, lets see if I can do it without getting stuck this time!

Vezemir’s hand shot out as Reznik began to bow again, seizing him by the shoulder and pushing him back upright. 

“Please… stop making an ass of yourself in front of my nobility.” Vezemir instructed in a hushed, low tone. “I understand bowing is difficult with your unique situation, and I will take no offense to you withholding. Believe me, on behalf of your master - silent and imposing is far more becoming for you in that armor.

“You work for the Inquisition now, your public actions reflect on both her and I.” 

Vezemir smiled in a way that felt forced and slightly pained as his eyes darted to one side of the room, then the other. 

After Reznik remained standing for a moment longer, Vezemir nodded, smiled, and sidestepped around Zarah, heading towards another group of conversing nobles and their attendants. 

*

Reznik sniffed the air suspiciously as Zarah prodded at the ground around the de-boned, de-brained, and de-fleshed corpse of what they’d been told was once a pig. All that was really left were a few flecks of bone, a coagulated patch of bloody dirt, and a rather-neatly removed hide. 

It looked like it had been removed with an incredibly sharp instrument, though the farmer’s testimony would imply otherwise. 

The air smelled like death. Like his home in the wastes. 

“… yep, ‘round the middle of the night, when the moon was at it’s highest, about twenty of them came and tore through anything that was outside.” Said the weathered half-human, half-goat man before snorting and spitting off to the side. “Shamblin’ all over, groaning ‘n moaning loudly. Would’ve thought it an orgy if the hogs weren’t screamin’ so loud.”

“Twenty of them, you said?” Zarah questioned with a raised brow, turning over her shoulder to eye the farmer as she reached into a pouch at her belt. 

“Give or take.” The farmer shrugged noncommittally. “It was the middle of the night, and a rabble of undead ‘uz tearing my livestock to bits. I was more concerned with hurrying my family under the floorboards, and how I’m going to feed them this winter.” 

Zarah didn’t reply immediately, instead placing a small talisman onto the ground, which began to let off a glowing red steam that floated through the air away from the farm. 

She sighed, nodded, and put it back in a pouch on her right hip before standing back up. 

“Well, you’ve done right calling this to your constable’s attention.” Zarah noted as she reached into her breast pocket and withdrew what looked like a notebook. She flipped it open to a point in the middle, snatched a pencil from her sleeve and began to write. “Luckily, all signs point to this being an undead attack - and because of the late King’s law, damage to your property by undead is covered by your taxes.” 

She withdrew a small pendant from her neck, bit down on the tip of her pinkie with one of her canine teeth, and proceeded to smear the blood all over the face of the pendant. Then, she simply pressed it against the front of the page. 

“Here, take this to your local Baron, present it to him, and he will compensate you either with money equal to your lost property, or replacement livestock. Good day.” 

Zarah nodded politely as she handed off the sheet of paper to the surprised-looking man, spun, and nodded her head directionally at Reznik. 

Well, fuck. He looks stunned! 

I don’t think he even knew that was a law.

Reznik began thinking in clear sentences as he felt Zarah’s presence settle back into his mind. More and more, it felt like she was carving out a part of his mental bunker that could reasonably be called her own. 

Like a friend visiting your home, and sitting in the same chair they always did. To the point that it became “their” chair. 

“Hmm yes, well, that surprised expression you’re thinking of is probably because most of the peasant folk aren’t really educated on the tax laws of the kingdom. Tax assessors simply show up around the same time every year, tell them what they owe, and leave - that’s usually that.” Zarah thought at him as they made their way out of a wooden gate at the edge of the property. “Thankfully, the number of undead he saw ties in nicely with the number of grave robbings reported so far. And, apparently the pigs didn’t go entirely quietly - some of those shreds on the ground were from one of the undead.”

Zarah glanced over her shoulder, grunted, and continued aloud in a quiet, conversational tone, apparently confident that they were out of earshot. 

“I can track the undead that left it behind, though without much precision. The general direction, and square kilometer or four.” Zarah patted the pouch the talisman had been placed in and pointed up to a series of distant foothills. “The undead we’re looking for, they went that way. The question I have is whether their source is that direction too, or if they’re just mindlessly wandering from place to place, snacking opportunistically.”

The same whiffs of red smoke that had exited the talisman were now coming through the gaps in the pouch, being blown by an unfelt wind around Zarah and towards where she aimed her finger. 

That looks… far. 

Like a day or more of walking, if we take breaks. 

Which I’m assuming you need. You do need to eat and sleep right?

“I think you’re somewhat right - it’ll take a good bit of time to follow them. If they were nearby, the guard patrols likely would’ve come across them by now.” Zarah explained as she clearly caught the drift of his thoughts. “Given the circumstances, I would probably try to send a message to Luminita, let her know that we won’t be back for a night or two. 

“However, I don’t think that’s necessary.” 

Zarah lifted a finger and pointed off to a small flock of crows sitting on the lowest branches of a clump of trees beside the road. 

Reznik felt Zarah’s presence leaving his mind abruptly as she halted mid-step and watched the birds with a flat expression. 

“Are you normal crows, or do you serve that strange god that Luminita worships so fervently?” Zarah questioned with a slight teasing edge to her tone. 

The closest bird cocked its head quizzically, cawed once, then took off, flying over Reznik’s head. 

Zarah watched it go with a concerned frown before grunting and turning back to the other birds. 

I… was that important? 

Like the one that brought me to you guys?

Zarah sighed deeply and began to walk forward again. 

“We should go. If for no other reason than the fact that flocks of birds whose minds are shut to me is… disconcerting.” 

Zarah’s presence settled back into its place in his mind once again as they continued down the road, and Reznik could feel something unusual. Emotion was bleeding through the connection.

A twinge of frustration, almost like a wafting scent from an adjacent room. 

On top of that, there was also a touch of fear. 

“These damned birds. They won’t leave Luminita alone, even in the middle of the night.” Zarah groused telepathically, sending him a mental image of a dark ceiling accompanied by loud, squawking noises. “I’ve lost count of the number of times they’ve appeared in the wee hours, shouting away until she wakes and opens the shutters to shoo them away. 

“Some of them I can read their thoughts. Others are closed to me. The ones that I -can- understand all seem to want to pay her tribute. Like she’s some kind of avian royalty. 

“And it’s not even simply corvids anymore! Yesterday there was a goose honking at her window!”

Reznik listened to Zarah’s mental tirade, hoping to hide the amused nature of his thoughts as they went. 

Oh, I remember hearing that from downstairs. 

I was trying to read that book you left on the kitchen table, and thought we might’ve just had a flock that landed out in the street. 

We didn’t really get large birds that often in the wasteland, so I couldn’t be sure. 

Zarah’s head turned back and forth like it was on a swivel, her expression looking agitated as she eyed the company of birds that sat on the lower branches beside the road. 

“Honestly, that girl needs to start talking to that god of hers. Whatever spirit it is that owns the birds of this part of the world. I tried to talk to one of the birds around the Inquisition’s office the other day, and just ended up looking like a madwoman.” Zarah informed him, sending him small mental flashes of odd stares from passers by. “One second I could read its thoughts, the next it was like a wall was formed. 

“The wall felt like the necklaces the royal family wear to keep telepaths out of their heads. Whatever that god is, it won’t talk to me, and there’s a part of Luminita’s mind that I also can’t access, at least, not without risking her sanity.” 

Several hours later as dusk settled in, Zarah and him stood at the base of a towering craggy foothill that climbed skyward at nearly a forty-five degree angle. With a grimace and a long-suffering sigh, she pulled out the small wooden talisman from the pouch on her hip and stared at it before looking back up the slope. 

“Well. At least this can confirm my suspicions that we have a necromancer. Undead don’t usually go uphill unless they’re chasing prey, or under the control of some higher power.” Zarah offered in a tone that held an edge of frustration. “Ahhh, there go my hopes of not having to climb a mountain today.”

I mean, we could always just go around. 

We’ve been following that trinket for a while now, I’m sure a little deviation wouldn’t hurt. 

It’s not like there’s just an army of undead milling aimlessly around the top of the plateau.

Reznik conjured the somewhat amusing image of a shambling horde milling about the top of the mountain ahead of him, bumbling and stumbling into one another as they walked up to the edge, reconsidered the idea of tumbling off of the short cliff, and randomly selecting a new fruitless direction to amble in. 

It was a lifestyle he was intimately familiar with. 

In the past, it had been his - absent of people to consume. 

Zarah giggled brightly, glancing back at him with with a lopsided smirk. 

“No, I imagine there isn’t anything like that waiting for us up there. However, these hills are full of caves and hidden cuts that would make for a serviceable necromancer’s camp. Which means, we get to follow the path it sets for us.” 

Zarah clucked her tongue and climbed up a short terrace in the hillside. 

“And that means up.”