I did my best to roll when I hit the ground, but even with my Surgeon’s armor and the Stoneskin effect, my health dropped twelve points. Dirt filled my mouth and jolts of pain shot through my left arm and leg.
Behind me, the darkwalkers continued chasing Vemor toward the city gate. As I’d hoped, my invisibility kept them from noticing my absence. Unfortunately, whoever was riding the black charger had no trouble seeing invisible creatures—the rider pointed at me, and the horse sped furiously in my direction, so large that it made Vemor's stallion look like a pony.
With shaking fingers, I aimed the wand of fireballs at the monstrous horse. What was the command word?
“Tequibirek!”
The charger swerved left, dodging the fireball. I aimed again.
“Tequibirek!”
The charger swerved right this time, and the fireball blazed into the distance. The giant horse would be on me in heartbeats, so I took out the wand of chain lightning.
“Kalliathera!”
The bolt of lightning struck the steed, and a second bolt flew upward and hit its rider. I’d stunned the towering horse in mid-gallop, and without control of its legs, it lurched onto its left side and crashed headfirst into the ground. Barely able to breathe, I stepped aside and watched the screaming train wreck of hooves and bone.
The horse’s shrieks filled the night, but my attention was focused on the rider. The thin man got to his feet and brushed the dirt off his shirt and pants, which were made of black silk and studded with emeralds. He wasn't wearing armor, but he wore jeweled rings on each hand and a medallion with a ruby pendant the size of my fist.
I gasped when I saw his face. Like Zuvil, his dark eyes were sunken and his skin was impossibly white. At the same time, he was far better looking than most men, and his resemblance to Queen Delvorra was so strong that there could be no question who stood before me—the rider was Prince Galliel of Norburne.
Galliel drew his long sword from its scabbard, and its blade glowed reddish-gold, as if forged of flame itself. Without a word, he plunged it into the charger’s head, just behind its right ear. After the horse fell silent, he sheathed the weapon and addressed me.
“I don’t recognize you, and you’re not wearing the colors of Encelas. You must be the interloper Dhok’kor told me about.”
His cool voice had the same aristocratic hauteur as his great-great-great-grandmother’s, and like Delvorra, he radiated strength of will. I stepped back, trembling as I threw aside the wand of chain lightning. I took the last of Kazerath's wands.
“That’s right,” I said, “and you must be Prince Galliel. Palomir told me a great deal about you.”
Galliel bowed. “And what did Palomir the Just say about me?”
“He said your armor made you practically invincible. That you could defeat an army by yourself.”
“He's quite right," Galliel said, "but alas, I had to leave my armor behind so that I could end your mischief. Where is Palomir, by the way? I haven’t heard from him in some time.”
“Dead," I said. "I killed him, his fellow priests of Venabel, his rakshasa friends, and all of Venabel's agents in Encelas.”
Galliel’s smile vanished. “You must be jesting. Palomir… the rakshasas… you couldn’t have slain them all.”
With my left hand, I brushed aside my hair to reveal Venabel’s mark.
“The Lady of Murder gave me this to express her undying hatred. I wonder what I’ll get for killing you.”
Galliel's studied the mark on my forehead, and his mouth fell slightly open. When he looked into my eyes, the cold confidence was gone. “You won’t k-kill me, interloper. After all this time, only one battle stands between me and dominance over the world. My destiny is to rule.”
I laughed. “I’m more than just an interloper, Prince. I know who created this world and why he created it. Your destiny isn't to rule. Your destiny is to fall by my hand.”
Galliel gaped at me, jaw trembling, and then drew his sword. My words must have shaken him, because he ran at me like a wild animal, without subtlety or finesse. Just like Palomir after transforming into a wolf.
I waited until Galliel came within five paces, and then pointed the last of Kazerath’s wands.
“Adrezzanio.”
The force shield struck Galliel and launched him into the air. As he flew backward, I downed a Potion of Regeneration and put on Nalkak’s ring. The copper surface transformed into a gnoll’s face, which glared at me and, as usual, told me that I wasn’t Nalkak. Nevertheless, my muscles bulged as a surge of strength coursed through me.
I activated Speed Burst and sprinted at Galliel, who was struggling to get off the ground. I kicked him under his right shoulder, causing him to drop his sword and sending him several feet further into the distance.
Unsheathing my dagger, I sprinted toward the disarmed prince. Smoke billowed from his mouth as he pointed an index finger at me, but I raised my blade before he could finish his spell.
“Head!”
The dagger struck Galliel between his eyebrows, interrupting his spell and causing him to fall back to the ground. Despite this, his health bar only barely moved. There was a long, long way to go. I reached out, and my dagger flew back to my hand. I returned it to its sheath and unstrapped my crossbow.
Galliel clasped his medallion and vanished. I cast See Invisible and watched him crawl away, gasping. I loaded a bolt of acid as he got to his feet.
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Eyes closed, Galliel held out his hands and extended his fingers. Before I could fire, two ogre zombies appeared in front of the prince, blocking my view. Both stood at least nine feet tall, with bared teeth, straggly masses of long white hair, and patches of rotting skin covering exposed muscle.
Before the summoned creatures could attack, I sprinted around them and cried out. "Eye!"
My bolt struck the prince, but my Called Shot had missed its target, striking his forehead instead. Judging by the bubbles, the acid was eating through the prince’s once-perfect face. His health had fallen by a fifth and continued to fall.
“You haven’t beaten me, interloper!” Galliel said, clutching his face. “I'll see you in two days!”
To my surprise, Prince Galliel turned and ran, running toward his encampment so quickly that I suspected he had a Speed Burst ability of his own. I aimed at his back, but one of the zombies clawed the side of my head. The other struck me in the shoulder, causing me to drop my crossbow. I cast Flash, which caused the monsters to step away from me.
I looked in the direction where Galliel had run, and the prince was now half of the way back to his camp. I was disappointed that he’d escaped, but my plan had succeeded—we’d captured six darkwalkers. Hopefully there was still time to find out how to defeat them.
I unsheathed my dagger and faced the summoned ogre zombies. I had to take care of them quickly, before Galliel’s soldiers came after me. Just as the first zombie tried to land a punch, I dove under its legs, stood up, and drove my dagger into the crosshairs that appeared on its back. BACKSTAB! BACKSTAB! +1,100 XP!
The second zombie was just as brainless as the first. I waited for it to strike with its claws, and then I ducked under its right arm and pivoted behind the undead beast. BACKSTAB! BACKSTAB! +1,100 XP!
No soldiers came rushing out of Galliel’s camp, so I cast Remove Curse and put Nalkak’s ring in my pack. Then I scanned the ground until I found the prince’s sword, whose blade had turned black. I was wary of touching a gift of Dhok’kor, so I tied a rope around its hilt and crossguard. Then I bound the weapon to my pack and walked to Encelas.
⚔
I returned to the castle through the Western Gate, and as I entered the courtyard, I saw a crowd of people standing in a circle and looking downward.
As I came closer, I saw what they were staring at: six darkwalkers stood trapped in a pit. They made low-pitched growling noises like muzzled dogs, and none made any attempt to climb out.
“You’re back!” Vemor cried. “When you jumped from the horse, I gave you up for dead. By Theris’s tears, what happened?”
“Prince Galliel was chasing us. If I hadn't faced him, he would have stopped us from capturing the darkwalkers.”
Vemor’s eyes widened. “You jumped off my horse to face Galliel, the risen Prince of Norburne?”
“That’s right.”
“And because you’ve survived the encounter, I can only assume that you defeated the prince. Is that right? By yourself?”
I nodded. “I didn't kill him, but I hurt him badly enough that he fled back to his encampment.”
Vemor looked at me, speechless. Then he approached a tall man dressed from head to foot in chainmail.
“Pardon me, Lord Berrol, but this is the young man who rode with me to capture the darkwalkers. He claims to have defeated Prince Galliel just minutes ago.”
Lord Berrol. The name sounded familiar, and it took me a moment to remember that he commanded the kingdom’s army. He was in his early sixties and had the physique of a linebacker, but his face was lined with deep furrows. He looked tired and careworn, and he studied me with narrowed eyes.
“A coachman defeated Dhok’kor’s champion? This is no time for jesting. I’ll ask you to recant your claim, young man. If you refuse, I’ll have to—”
I unstrapped Galliel’s weapon from my pack and let the gold-hilted sword clatter to the ground. I couldn’t read the inscription on the black blade, but Vemor looked dumbfounded.
Lord Berrol's voice fell to a whisper. “This—this can’t truly be the Sword of Dhok’kor. Can it?”
“Only the Lord of Death can work black steel, High General,” Vemor said.
“I wouldn’t touch it,” I said. “Its enchantment will likely harm anyone but Galliel.”
“Of course we’re not going to touch it,” came the voice of the chamberlain, who joined us. “This is a matter for the High Wizard, who should arrive any moment now.”
Lord Berrol stood up, towering over the chamberlain. “Do you know this coachman, Harad?”
“He’s more than a coachman. Far more. This entire operation was his idea.”
I turned to the chamberlain. “Have we learned anything about the darkwalkers?”
“Not yet. Once Kazerath arrives, he’ll cast a spell to get them out of their armor.”
“Has anyone tried acid?” I asked.
“It’s past midnight,” Lord Berrol said. “Where are we supposed to find acid?”
I loaded a bolt of acid into my crossbow and fired at one of the darkwalkers. The creature’s helmet bubbled and smoked, but I couldn’t see anything beneath. “May I continue?”
“Yes!” the High General and High Chamberlain said in unison.
It took four more bolts to eat through the darkwalker’s helmet and reveal a head covered with black fur. Its eyes were a solid, milky white, and I gasped when I saw the canine mouth with long fangs. That's when I realized what Zenithir had accomplished. He'd created soldiers out of undead werewolves.
“A wolf creature?” Lord Berrol asked. “Is that all? Haven’t you been slaying these things throughout the city?”
“It’s more than just a werewolf,” I said. “Its eyes are solid white instead of yellow, and it doesn’t move nearly as quickly. These creatures are undead.”
“A werewolf zombie?” the chamberlain asked. “I don’t understand. Werewolves are terrible enough. Why go to the trouble of creating zombies?”
“I spoke to a necromancer in the Baildril,” I said. “And he explained why zombies are better than regular soldiers. Zombies always obey orders, never need food or rest, and can only be wounded by enchanted weapons.”
“Are these things still vulnerable to silver?” the chamberlain asked.
“Undead creatures can only be wounded by enchanted weapons, so I think we’ll need enchanted silver. Let me try.”
I loaded a +2 silver bolt into my crossbow and fired it at the darkwalker with the dissolved helmet. To my relief, the creature dropped to the floor of the pit.
“It won’t die until it’s struck in the heart.” I strapped my crossbow to my pack. “But it won't get back up.”
“Excellent!” Lord Berrol roared. “I’ll arm my best soldiers with enchanted silver, and we’ll make short work of the damned monsters.”
Just then, Kazerath ran up to us, still wearing lavender bedclothes and holding a large spellbook. Segrel trailed close behind.
“Everyone, stand back!” Kazerath said between gasps. “I have a spell that can remove their armor, and then we’ll find out what these darkwalkers really are.”
“They’re undead werewolves,” the chamberlain said. “And they can be wounded by enchanted silver.”
Kazerath looked into the pit at the fallen darkwalker. Then he sighed and shook his head. “Well that’s… wonderful. If I’m no longer necessary, I’ll return to my bedchamber.”
“No!” Lord Berrol said. “Neither you nor any other spellcaster can sleep until we have enough enchanted silver to slay these monsters. Light your furnaces, wizard, and take to your tongs. You have a great deal of work to do.”
Lord Berrol turned to me, tears in his eyes. “I’ve always told my men that we can defeat Galliel’s army. But by the beard of Eothis, now I really believe it!”