With the king dead and the gray skins focused on his corpse, I made my escape. Not quite how I’d planned it, but I wouldn’t argue with fate. Not when it cleared me a path out of certain death anyway.
I slipped past the throng, over bigger hat guy, and through the obstacle course of shriveled bodies to get to the rear of the coronation hall. Then, I slipped out the same door I’d entered so many hours ago.
The cathedral clearly had been designed on the Christmas tree principle: all ornamentation and baubles front facing, with no attention to the bits the public wouldn’t see.
There were no gold and bejeweled ornaments, no great chandelier, and – thank goodness – no damned tapestries. Just bare gray stone walls, with quite ordinary doors and doorways, and very little finery at all.
The only bauble I spotted was a silver candlestick, to which I helped myself. Not because I needed it – provided today didn’t spawn the zombie apocalypse, I was a very rich man – but old habits die hard. And old habits couldn’t resist a hefty chunk of solid silver.
I was just scampering toward the rear stairs when a hand grasped my shoulder, and a reedy voice said, “Hail.”
I spun, candlestick and scepter raised to strike, but stopped short. And not a moment too soon, either. I’d been a hair’s breadth away from cracking the sandy-haired skull of a young man in black splattered leather and chainmail armor.
“You,” I said, recognizing him as the kid who’d been with the tin cans.
He looked a shade paler than I remembered, though that might have had something to do with the candlestick and scepter.
“Prithee, good sir, hold. I am not one of them.”
“No,” I said. “You’re clearly not. But who the hell are you?” Then, I winced as a jolt of electricity ran through my hand.
“I am a squire of the realm. A servant of the king, like you.”
I grunted. The kid had been sharp enough to survive the undead, but clearly it didn’t go too much further.
“My name is Jack Alf.”
“What now?” I was sure I misheard.
“Squire Jack Alf.”
“You’re kidding.”
He seemed confused. “No sir.”
A hellish scream from the coronation hall distracted me from further discourse on the point. “Alright, Squire Jackoff –” A momentary pause for the painful zap that jolted through me. “I recommend we get the he–” I caught myself just in time. “The heck out of here.”
“We should stay and fight,” Jackoff urged.
“Uh…out of curiosity, how many knights did you lose out there?”
“All of them.”
“Exactly. You might want to join the undead legions, but I’ve got other plans.”
“But they didn’t have these,” he said, brandishing a shiny gold and silver blade in one hand, and gesturing to my scepter with the other. “We do.”
I blinked. So the kid had noticed the scepter after all. Which meant – what?
Fortunately, he didn’t leave me hanging. “With these anointed relics, we can defeat the unrighteous horde.”
“Uh…that’s a fancy letter opener. You’re a kid, and I – I have other plans.”
His face reddened, and he said, “I’m not a child, sir. I may be but eighteen years of age, but my heart is-”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure it is. But you’re not up to taking on an entire cathedral full of the undead.” I didn’t know why exactly I was wasting my time on him. If he wanted to play hero and get himself killed, that was his business.
Still, it didn’t seem right somehow. Eighteen or not, he was a kid. A brainwashed kid with a hero complex, but a kid all the same. Anyway, he was the last living human besides myself in the building as far as I knew. That had to count for something.
“Not on my own,” he conceded. “But with your aid-”
“I told you. I have other plans, and they don’t involve doing battle with the undead. I need to get out of here – and so do you.”
His eyes moved from me to the scepter. “You think it is wiser to remove the artifact than to risk it falling into the hands of the sorcerer’s minions?”
The idea hadn’t even occurred to me, but now that he suggested it, I nodded. “Yeah. That’s right.”
“Of course.” He nodded briskly. “The artifacts must be protected at all costs. I cannot indulge vainglorious thoughts of revenge, when the fate of the realm is at stake.”
“Exactly,” I said. The kid was an idiot, no doubt about that, but a loyal one. Maybe even a decent one. So I added, “And you must safeguard yourself for the same reason.”
“Because I carry the Blade of Divinity?”
No, you moron. So you don’t die, I thought. To the kid’s face, though, I smiled and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. In the most portentous tone I could muster, I said, “Exactly, young squire. Now, let us go.”
He nodded briskly. “I shall follow you, good my sir. Let us make haste to depart this place, ere the agents of evil overtake us.”
It occurred to me that maybe I should have left him to his fate after all, if only to avoid speeches like that. But we had no time for regrets now. Not with the clatter of gray skins getting louder and louder.
The squire waited for me to take a step before following, but kept close at my heels after that. Undead shrieks pursued us down a gray, lantern lit hall. But the more ground we covered, the farther away the voices sounded.
I thought – hoped – that they were searching the premises for any survivors, rather than searching for us particularly.
The cathedral was huge, with a warren of halls and chambers behind, above, and below the coronation hall. But I’d done my due diligence and memorized the floorplan. Every twist and turn of it.
So I got myself and the kid outside in under five minutes. A little out of breath, and a lot freaked out – what the hell had just happened?? – but very much alive.
We emerged on a little used cart path behind the great edifice. It was only now that I saw smoke rising from the roof.
“Huh. Looks like they’re burning the place.”
Jackoff’s face turned a deep purplish crimson. “The blackguards. Surely, duty compels us –”
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“Duty compels us to hightail our happy asses out of here,” I said, ignoring the flicker of electricity that ran through my palm.
He glanced at the sword, and then nodded. “You are right. Of course, you are right. Still, it strikes at my honor to run when we could stand and fight.”
I gestured toward his fancy letter opener. “Yes, well, you can soothe your injured pride by remembering that you’re running for a good cause.”
“You are very wise, Sir – I do not know your name.”
“No,” I said, a little cagily. “It’s, uh, probably best that you don’t know.”
He nodded. “I understand. The king must have placed a good deal of faith in you to entrust the scepter to your hands.”
“Oh yeah. Buckets of it.” I eyed the path, and the anonymous streets beyond it beckoning me. “Well, I should probably get moving.”
“Yes. We should depart,” he said, falling in behind me again. When I hesitated, he added, “Lead on, good sir.”
“Yeah, uh, I don’t think that’s going to work. This is the part where we go our separate ways.”
He stared at me with doleful eyes. “But surely if you are taking the scepter to safety, I must accompany you. How else will we protect the blade?”
A new possibility presented itself to me. Maybe I was being greedy, but on the other hand, when opportunity knocked, who was I to shut the door in its face? Straightening, I said, “Your concern does you credit, squire. But you may trust the blade to me. I will ensure it remains safe.”
He frowned at that. “But you have the scepter.”
“Yes. Fortunately, I have two hands.” I demonstrated by lifting both, scepter in one, candlestick in the other.
“No man but the king can hold both at once,” he said, in the tone of someone pointing out the obvious. As if he found himself explaining that fire burned or water was wet. “The law is quite clear on that point. The penalty is death.”
“Even when the king is dead?” I asked.
He eyed me with a touch of suspicion. “Especially when the king is dead.” Which made no kind of sense, but he said it with such conviction that I couldn’t doubt him.
So I smiled instead. “Well done, squire. You pass the test.”
“The test, sir?”
“You have demonstrated that you will adhere to the law, even when prompted to do otherwise. Even when ordered by your superiors.”
“Oh.” His frown eased. “Very clever, sir.”
“Yes, well. At any rate, we should split up. No, don’t argue. Think on it, Jackoff – if I get captured, and you are on your own, the divine blade of kings –”
“Blade of divinity,” he corrected.
“Whatever. The blade’s safe. But if you’re following me and I get captured, then the bad guys get the letter opener and the club. Right?”
My irreverence shocked him into a momentary silence, but then he nodded. “I suppose that is so.”
“And we don’t want the bad guys having both, right?”
“No, certainly not. If these artifacts fell into the hands of the sorcerer-”
“Exactly. So, we’re agreed? We split up.”
“Yes sir.”
“Good. Okay, well-”
“But where do I bring the blade?”
Now that was a poser. I frowned, thought quickly, and tried a somewhat supercilious, “Don’t you know, lad?”
He flushed again. He did that a lot. It was painful to watch, mostly because it reminded me of my own teenage years. Not that I looked anything like this junior tank as a kid. I’d been more on the beanpole end of the spectrum. But I’d totally rocked the awkward, constantly embarrassing myself thing.
“Of course, sir. Forgive my stupidity. I shall take it to the abbot, at once.”
I nodded authoritatively. “Good. Excellent.”
“I will see you there?”
“Oh, absolutely,” I lied.
“Very well,” he said.
At the same time, I was vaguely aware of a boost to my [Deception] skill.
<<<<>>>>
Name: Kaej Profession: Master thief Guild status: Independent Level 24 Faction alignments: None Skills: Stealth 99 Faction standing: Thieves Guild Hated Members of this faction can't stand the sight of you. Charisma - General 5 New Thieves Guild Despised Members of this facton will kill you if given the chance. Charisma - Deception 15 City Guard Soft dislike Members of this faction will keep an eye on you Mining 1 King's Army Neutral Members of this faction take no interest in you, good or ill Gardening 1 Sorcerer's Minions Kill on sight No explanation needed Fishing 1 Daughters of Salvidora Despised Members of this faction will kill you if given the chance. Hunting 4 Iron Mongers Neutral Members of this faction take no interest in you, good or ill Combat - Defense 21 Textiles Guild Hated Members of this faction can't stand the sight of you. Combat - Attack 17 College of Sorcery Disliked Members of this faction have heard all about you - and nothing good. Strength 24 League of Assassins Neutral Members of this faction take no interest in you, good or ill Speed 19 Ladies of the Night Disliked Members of this faction have heard all about you - and nothing good. Endurance 25 Magic -3 To improve faction standings among aligned factions, complete missions, tasks and favors for your fellow faction members. To improve faction standings among unaligned factions, seek out faction members in need of assistance, and render aid - provided they don't kill you first. Perks and Affinities: Deft Hands 25 MAX Improves coordination and ability. Impacts most activities that require hands. Carry 25 MAX Even your pockets have pockets, and none of it weighs you down. Effect proportional to underlying strength and endurance. Horsemanship 5 LOW You're a born rider. As in, you're born, and you ride. If you want to get really good at it, you need to do it. A lot. Green Thumb 1 PALTRY You have more natural talent in the garden than most people, but natural talent doesn't count unless it's honed. Ore Hauler 1 PALTRY There's something about the sweat, the dark, the ever present specter of death that appeals to you. You've got the stuff to be a first rate miner. Armorer 2 PALTRY Hammer, tongs, fire, needle and thread…how hard can it really be? You've got an instinct for leather and mail. Who knows where it might take you. Traits: Traits can change over time. Depending on whether they're natural inclinations, or the result of habit, they may be difficult to shift, but they're not set in stone. Magically Challenged 23 HIGH Someone people excel at all things magical. You are not one of those people. If you choose to pursue the study, you will have your work cut out for you. Tone Deaf 7 MODERATE You've got a voice only a mother could love, and even that's a stretch. You'll never earn your bread singing, but that's alright. You have other talents. Tender-hearted 10 MODERATE You don't fall for every sob story thrown your way, but your heart bleeds for a genuine hard luck story. Friend of the friendless, foe of the cruel. Liar 18 HIGH Why settle for the truth, when you could tell a perfectly good lie? Whether it's your job or you're just naturally dishonest, you lie more than the average person. Independent 25 MAX Team work is for suckers. Why rely on other people, when you could rely on numero uno?