Clean, rested, and fed; the boys returned to their pay. They checked in with Walla, whose eyebrows shot up as she read the kill counts. “One hundred twenty-six zombies, by yourselves? In one day? How?”
Reg’s clear and strong voice rang out from behind them, “They were working with me, Walla.”
Walla’s face fell as she looked at the two young men. “You two are good ones. Reg is also a good one, but his path is very difficult to maintain. Please be careful if you’re working with him.”
Reg laughed at her. “These two don’t need to be careful. They got smarts. I think they’re going to change how we do things as a church,” he said as he got to the counter. He slid a gold coin to each of the boys while Walla did some math.
“Fifteen gold, twenty-four silver young sirs,” Walla said as she counted coins into a pouch for them. She glared at Reg, “What do you mean they don’t need to be careful?”
Laughing, Reg clapped the boys on the shoulder, one for each hand. “Demise has blessed us with these two ingenious young men. I was not threatened once with these two, and I could complete all three of my rituals in a single day.”
It was Walla’s turn to goggle at Reg. “All three? How many times has that happened in all these years?”
Reg thought and counted fingers, “This was the fourth time in five years. If we can duplicate what these gentlemen have done, the church of Demise might be able to bring the power of the Imperial Throne to heel.”
Wali turned to Reg, “Are you serious?”
“As serious as death,” Reg replied. “I’d like you two to come to meet someone with me. Can you collect those spears and meet me back here?”
Wali nodded, and Yacob jogged off. “Who do you want us to meet with?” Wali asked as they waited for Yacob.
Walla interjected, “You better not be getting these boys wrapped up in your cult. I’ll have your very own serving of Demise if you get them twisted up.” She said with a fierce motherly tone.
Reg raised his hands placatingly. “I need them to meet my deacon. I need them to instruct him on how to do what they did yesterday so it can be recorded and spread through the church. There’s a large reward waiting if they can do it again.”
She gave him the stink eye. “If they don’t come back here with huge grins and pockets full of loot, I’ll be waiting for your ass to make it even more holy!” Her beauty made the words even more striking. The woman was a tiger when she wanted to be.
“Aye, ma’am. I swear on my faith that there is nothing but the church rewarding services due.” Reg said solemnly.
Yacob returned carrying the bundle of spears a minute later. They had been tied together in a bundle, twine tied in exact lengths between them so that they would not need to be measured to be placed.
Reg led them around the city and into the third segment, or Church Row as it was known. They approached a modest chapel with a silver and gold symbol above the door that matched Reg’s medallion. Inside it was dark and cool, the main foyer was small, and the chapel beyond was not that large either. Most of the building was taken up by cold rooms for the passage of the dead or hospice beds for those who would be experiencing that passage very soon. Waiting for them was another priest in the black robes and silver medallion. This one was hunched and bald, age spots scattered around his crown and across his hands. Skeletal thin, he could have passed for already dead if not for the pulsing veins at his neck. Reg bowed to the older priest, “Deacon Marcellus, these are the two young men who assisted me yesterday.”
The old man smiled with his lone remaining yellow tooth. “Yes, thanks for coming. Reg tells me you might have a solution to the cleansing rituals?”
Wali and Yacob bowed respectfully to the antique priest, “Yes, sir. I think we might be able to duplicate it easily too.” Wali said, “We have some things to test, but any priest should be able to do this with a little help.”
“Really?” Deacon Marcellus said, “I would like to see this in action if possible.” He turned to Reg, “Brother Reginald, do you think you can squeeze one Rite of Cleansing out today? We’ll go just outside the gates and bring a couple of the knights, yes?”
“If you see fit, Deacon. I’ll make the arrangements.” Reg said. He turned to Wali and Yacob, “Can you get your stuff and be back here in an hour? I promise you will be rewarded.”
Yacob and Wali couldn’t turn down this reward. The coins they had already gained were enough to buy a small farm. They agreed and jogged off to get into their armor and collect their weapons.
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
An hour later, they rejoined the churchmen. Two knights in black armor with a mace, shield, and poleaxe joined them. Reg remained in his black robe, and Deacon Marcellus sat in a magically walking litter. They headed back through the city, a procession of the Church of Demise followed by a pair of unlikely adventurers. Yacob and Wali each carried an end of the bundle of spears, sharing the burden.
They moved onto the plain, into the killing field outside the city. Near the edge of the forest, Reg again poured a circle of salt. Before he started his prayer, Yacob called up the anchor stones as Wali explained to the Deacon the magics involved. The Deacon was a learned and wise man. He recognized the glyphs and could piece together the basics. When Wali started walking out and placing the spears, the Deacon seemed to understand. When the final spear was set and Yacob raised the second anchor stone, the Deacon began to clap softly. “Yes, I see it now. I would like to see it in action, please.”
Wali and Yacob had the knights stand in the opening. The boys were sore and tired from the previous day’s exertions. The knights looked capable, and the Deacon trusted them to keep him safe. Wali and Yacob stood near the circle of salt. Reg began the chant, the light shone, and the zombies came. There were far fewer than the day before. Wali had placed the opening of the spiral toward the city so that anything that came from the forest would be forced along the fence into the opening. The Deacon muttered and examined every little detail as the ritual went on. He passed a hand through the glowing fence. His eyes were wide as he was unaffected, yet the zombies treated it as a pliable but unbreachable barrier. Sometimes one would get a limb stuck in the gap, but Wali shoved it out with his spear to shamble toward the two knights.
Once the hour was over, Reg looked peaked. He wiped the sweat from his brow and leaned on one of the brother knights. “Four rituals in two days is a bit much, Deacon.” The old man waved the complaint away.
Wali checked the spears; some of them were smoking. “Deacon, this set of ritual spears is spent. I think we can improve on the idea if you are willing?”
The little old man cackled as he regained his litter. “Improve? Improve? You’ve already changed how my whole church will address things here. Now you want to make it better, sure, why not? But let's get back and into somewhere better suited for thinking.”
They returned to the church and met back in a conference room. Wali asked for some paper and ink and drew up a loose schematic. Cold-forged iron was the best channel for this work. One long spear with a chain attached five feet up, and the next was only six feet long with the chain one foot up. The sequence was twelve poles in total. The triangular poles first had a specific sequence of glyphs cut into them. Then a singular block of silver was melted and poured into the glyphs for each of the poles. The tall poles needed to be sunk five feet to work as they were not local stones like Yacob had raised. They also had different glyph sequences than the others. No magic was needed to make or power the fence. The glyphs would activate when the light mana from the Cleansing Ritual started. It took him several hours to finish the drawings with a pair of scribes duplicating his efforts as he went along. Over that time, the Deacon and Reg both conducted business, stopping in to check on the boys. Servants brought refreshments, and Yacob found a local smith specializing in cold-forged iron. The man asked questions like Reg and the Deacon, but once Wali handed the drawings off, the smith promised a result in six days.
At the end of the marathon drafting session, the Deacon shuffled in, followed by the two knights, Serg and Lynn. The knights carried a heavy stone coffer between them. They set the coffer on the table with a heavy thunk. Reg had been sharing a drink with Wali and Yacob when the Deacon entered. The Deacon had Linn open the coffer and produce three things. “As a first thank you for teaching us this method for protecting our priests,” Linn pulled a small bag of coins from the coffer. “One hundred gold. If the wrought iron contraption works as you say it will, and we can purchase the design from you, there will be more. Next, as a personal thank you from the church and me for bringing an unaccountable amount of prestige to my humble chapel, I want to present you with a few tokens.” He handed each of the boys a small box; inside was a ring emblazoned with a dime-sized holy symbol of Demise. ”These will mark you as friends of the Church of Demise, God of the Passage, Bearer of Souls, and Bringer of Change. Present these at any of our churches, and you will be treated as one of our own. Be it healing or simply a place to rest.” Each of the rings was magical in nature, sizing instantly to fit the bearer, and Wali sensed it bind to his soul like the Hunter’s Stone.
“Lastly, there is one thing that I have held onto for many years. I want to pass it onto you, for I feel the hand of my lord on me.” He reached into his robe and pulled out a tiny crystal vial on a chain. It glimmered with light similar to the light given off when Reg did the cleansing ritual. The vial was no larger than a thumbnail and shone brightly. The old man passed it to Yacob, “My lord rarely touches me directly, but this is for you, young Yacob. It is called a Tear of Demise, and it is one drop of liquified change. If given to a living thing, that thing will die; if given to a dead thing, that thing will never be able to be raised as an undead. It also works as a handy light in the dark.” Deacon Marcellus said with a grin. “This is a rare gift directly from Demise herself. Your friend is a Colri, already marked by gods beyond this world. But Demise would seek your favor one day, Yacob.”
Deacon Marcellus looked Wali in the eye, “You have a Destiny.” Everyone could hear the capital D. “Take care of your friends, make sure they survive that destiny.” His voice was one of timeless wisdom and authority. It struck home, sinking into Wali’s soul. This was not the first wise old man to tell him that there was some capital “D” destiny waiting for him.
“Now, get out of here. I have a service to oversee in an hour, and I hear Walla is looking for you. Reg, you better go alleviate her worries.” The old man said with mischief. Reg blanched and stood quickly.
“Come on, you two. I prefer to keep my toenails attached. Let’s go see Walla.” Reg said.
Wali and Yacob thanked the Deacon and the knights and followed Reg to the Hunter’s Society House. They shared a look and were very excited by the unexpected largess of the Deacon.