Chapter 9
The following dawn, Marcus attended service at the local temple with Lorenzo, then they returned to their inn for breakfast. Alessia did not appear before their meal was finished.
“They were all Surshana adherents.”
“They were.”
“And here I thought no place could have more Surshana adherents than Altamura.”
Marcus wasn’t sure what to think of it. In a way, it made a sort of sense considering the presence of the Undead. It was the same reason why Altamura was filled with adherents of the god of death. The ratios between the six sects, however, was incredibly off-balance in the Sorcerous Kingdom. He hadn’t seen a single adherent of any of the other gods so far.
“Where is the girl?” Lorenzo asked, wiping his mouth.
“I have not seen her since we all retired for the night,” he replied.
“Could something have happened?”
“We are not at war with the Sorcerous Kingdom yet,” he smirked, “so probably not.”
Marcus looked around the tables once more before walking over to ask the man attending the reception.
“She hasn’t come down from her room,” the man replied after asking the staff, “as far as we’ve seen.”
“Which room? Our group is about to leave town.”
“...your group? May I ask how you are related to Miss Altamura?”
“We are part of the same contingent of Paladins,” Marcus explained. “On official temple business to E-Rantel.”
Saying something along those lines usually expedited things in the Theocracy, but the man seemed no more hurried than before. He flipped through what Marcus assumed to be a guest registry, putting on a face after reading what was there.
“What is the matter?”
“You understand that we can’t simply give away the locations of our guests to anyone who asks – especially that of a young lady…”
“Lady? Just what in the world did she…look, she has been my Squire for the last six years.”
“So you say…”
“By The Six…argh! Then send someone to fetch her down here.”
The receptionist did as he asked, sending one of the inn staff to wherever Alessia was. It wasn’t long until she returned, however, and Alessia was nowhere in sight.
“Sign says do not disturb,” the woman said matter of factly.
“For the love of…just tell me where she is, or I will begin to think you have done something to her!”
“Eh...this is troubling, dear guest. If you had some sort of proof of your…”
“Proof?” Marcus’ hand went to his clasp, “Is the insignia of my order insufficient for my claim?”
“It proves who you are, but Miss Altamura registered with no such identity.”
“Then how…”
Marcus reached into his belt pouch and pushed the plaque with the sigil of House Corelyn straight into the man’s face.
“Will this do?”
The man backed away and uncrossed his eyes. They widened in recognition, and he bowed deeply along with the woman beside him.
“My apologies Sir! I…”
“The room.”
“Four o’ one, Sir,” the man held out a key.
The sound of Marcus’s boots stomping up the stairs concealed his dark mutterings. That the nobility held more trust than the temples was an absurd notion.
The ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign dangling on the doorknob of room 401 – the only room on the floor – greeted him, and he knocked lightly on the door.
“Alessia?” He called after receiving no response, “It is me…Alessia!”
The room remained silent. He unlocked the door, stepped inside and immediately stopped at the sight of the luxurious suite. He and Lorenzo had decided on a modest double room, but Alessia had taken what he thought should be the best accommodations available in the whole inn. The rich drapes blocked the light from outdoors entirely, and if it wasn’t for the Darkvision conferred by his ring, he would have needed to stumble his way over to pull them open.
Streams of sunlight soon entered through the window, but the lump that lay on the giant four-poster bed did not stir. Marcus reached down to shake her shoulder through the smooth, silken sheets.
“Alessia. Alessia!”
Her only response was a sleepy moan.
“Alessia!”
He shook her harder, and he felt a slight movement under his hand.
“Mmm…wuh…Brother Marcus?”
“Who else would chase you around like this? It is well into the morning, and we are almost–”
“I have fallen to temptation, Brother Marcus,” Alessia’s sorrowful voice rose from the bed. “You must leave me to my fate…and pray for my wretched soul…”
Alessia pulled the silken sheets over her head. Marcus pulled them off of her entirely, and Alessia immediately curled up on herself.
“Ai! So cold…” She cried in a small voice, “I am glad I was too nervous to dress down fully. Brother Marcus, what if I was not decent just now?”
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“I have seen your skinny ass too many times to count,” he grumbled. “Up, now – we are almost away.”
“What about breakfast?” Alessia yawned and stretched.
“You missed it. You missed temple as well.”
“Eh…”
Alessia sat up in her soft bed and peeled off her shift. She lazily rolled off of the mattress and crawled over to the basin set in the corner near the bed. Marcus went about putting her things away while she washed.
“I am going on ahead,” he said after packing her bag. “Come to the wagons when you are finished. Really, why am I doing this?”
“Duty to your fellow man?” Alessia yawned again as she towelled herself dry and reached for the clothes he had laid out for her.
Marcus shook his head as she groped around with barely open eyes.
“How can you be so cheeky when you are half asleep.”
He closed the door to the room behind him and returned to the main floor of the inn. Lorenzo was already waiting at the exit with his pack slung over his shoulder. He held out Marcus’ own towards him.
“What happened to Sister Alessia?” Lorenzo asked.
“Nothing worth mentioning,” he replied, “but I hope this Countess does not examine our expenditures.”
He returned the borrowed key to the reception desk and followed Lorenzo out of the inn. Crossing over to the other side of the town, he could see that their wagons were already lined up in the street; the tents where they were stored, dismantled. Everyone was ready to leave by the time Alessia caught up with them. She hopped up onto the wagon bed and settled into her seat from the previous day, withdrawing several objects wrapped in paper from her pack.
“What did you buy?” Marcus caught a whiff of fresh bread.
“Warm pastries from the bakery on the way here,” she replied with a self-satisfied smile on her face. “Since we are riding in the wagons, I see no reason to go hungry along the way.”
“You are relying too much on Corelyn’s favour…”
“But that is why we received this, yes?”
Marcus sighed in resignation, and Alessia unwrapped the first pastry. Its aroma seemed to explode out of the wrapper, filling the air as the golden bun came into view. Sunlight glinted off of its glazed surface as she brought it up and inhaled deeply. A set of audible swallows could be heard around them.
“This looks too good to eat,” Alessia marvelled at the pastry before taking a large bite anyway. “Mmoh! Mmph…mmm. This is so good! Look, brother, there are even roasted and glazed meats inside!”
Alessia continued to shamelessly enjoy her breakfast. Marcus stood up and hopped off of the wagon.
“We are soon away, brother Marcus. Where are you going?”
“Putting an end to your torment,” he replied as he joined the other Paladins who had dismounted.
After an entirely understandable delay, the Paladins and their wagons left the town, pastries in hand.
Now that they knew what to look out for, they started to catch glimpses of Undead whenever they passed a village or hamlet on their journey north. As with the town, Skeletons were being used to help with chores around homes: fetching water and firewood; hauling feed and sweeping away dirt and debris. Marcus even saw one attaching wash to a clothesline.
The idea that Undead summons could be used to assist in various things was not actually a new idea to the Paladins, but their use by the commonfolk was. Certain divine casters preferred to summon Undead on patrol – specifically those accustomed to maintaining the border along the Katze Plains. Undead did not react aggressively to other Undead without provocation and sometimes not even then, so Undead summons could be used tactically to great effect.
Strangely enough, these tactics were commonly used in conjunction with Paladins. Patrols from Altamura, when encountering Undead opponents, would use Undead summons with high offensive capabilities. Lines of Paladins would focus on maintaining a strong defence, while the summons would flank and destroy the ‘natural’ Undead, who tended to focus solely on the living unless they were possessed of a certain amount of intelligence.
Generally speaking, the Undead summoned by members of the priesthood were purposely distinct from the ones that they fought to avoid confusion. Having these Skeletons everywhere was disconcerting. Marcus wondered if he would ever get used to them, and if he did, he wondered if he would be eventually caught off guard by one that was not a summon. How did these people manage such distinctions so close to the Katze Plains?
“Where do all of these Undead come from, I wonder?” Alessia mused as she munched on her second bun, “It should cost too many casters too much mana to maintain this number all the time…I don’t see any of the summoners about, either.”
“They’re leased from the Sorcerous Kingdom,” the driver answered her. “It’s said they all belong to the Sorcerer King himself.”
“Leased?” Marcus frowned, “You mean all these villagers we are passing by are going out on their own to rent Undead? Is there some store where one simply enters to pick them up?”
“The nobles are the ones that figure out how many are needed and how to distribute them,” he replied. “Depending on what industries are present, they may need more or less.”
“You mentioned something along those lines about Corelyn County,” Marcus said. “How is it decided?”
“It’s pretty simple,” the driver said. “The Skeletons are pretty mindless, so they can only perform simple labour. They can swing a pick in a mine, chop down trees or move things around from one place to another – pretty ideal for hard, repetitive work like that. Cultivating vineyards, orchards and all the herbs, spices, perfumes and dyes that are grown along with them’s a lot more complicated. The Skeletons can’t learn what’s required to do all that, so they’re unable to perform these tasks. That’s why you only tend to see them in the villages and the town in Corelyn’s demesne.”
“I see…so does that mean we will see more Undead in other parts?”
“Again, it depends on what their industries are,” the driver said. “But yes – out in the territories north and northeast of E-Rantel, there are tens of thousands of Skeleton labourers working the fields growing ground crops. I hear they’re trying some new crops that are grown in other places as well.”
“Have there been any incidents of more Undead appearing due to the number already present? Or do all the Undead that appear here submit themselves to the Sorcerer King?”
“Never heard of anything like that happening. Wild Undead just pop up wherever they used to before, and the sentries remove them as soon as they notice. That hasn’t changed any – it’d be pretty plain if something new was going on, with how many are working in various places.”
Marcus nodded: it seemed rational enough and in line with what he understood of the matter. There were many theories, tales and superstitions when it came to the Undead and their origins. In the Theocracy, those that were summoned by agents of the faith were an allowance by the god of death.
‘Natural’ Undead were perceived to be those who were outside of Surshana’s divine providence. Just how those natural undead came to be was a regularly studied and debated topic. Direct experience, however, led him to a few conclusions that many who operated in similar circumstances shared.
Serving mostly out of Altamura, a fortress bordering the Katze Plains, he had a much greater knowledge when it came to the Undead than the average Paladin as a matter of necessity. That summoned Undead were present in a location meant little to nothing when it came to the rise of ‘natural’ Undead. Something else gave birth to them: the same thing that the living could intangibly sense in those areas that would eventually produce Undead, or already had.
The fact that these areas tended to be places like battlefields or locations where great violence, suffering, pain and sorrow had transpired led many to believe that the emotional imprint left by the dead were the true cause: negative events and emotions for those who passed leading to areas of negative energy.
The most disturbing part about these areas was that, while they pooled negative energy and grew in strength, what collected did not seem to be finite. The Katze Plains continuously produced Undead with no sign of its pervasive negative energy ever waning in strength. Cemeteries in and around urban centres needed to be sanctified and, even after doing so, regularly monitored.
All of the thoughts related to his duties made him think of his own situation. Patrolling the border, fighting Undead and Demihumans. Making sure the lands were safe for humanity. Escorting wayfarers, merchants and dignitaries on the dangerous paths near his home. Once in a while, he would need to chase down rogue necromancers who would go to Katze to ‘study’.
But in this foreign land…from what they had been told and what they had seen so far, nearly nothing he had done throughout his life was necessary in the Sorcerous Kingdom. The lands were already secure; Humanity appeared to be prospering under the guidance of its leaders; the Faith of The Six advanced without the need for strength of arms.
Though he did not consider himself old, he understood that he was already well set in his ways – unlike Alessia, who was young, full of energy and eager to face whatever this strange new nation had to offer. Being informed in advance of his duties here did nothing to quell the unease about how useful he would ultimately be, and whether he could feel like he had a place here.