Scourge Twenty-One - Undead

We decided to follow Felix’s plan. It might be a bit... cocky, but it’s not a terrible plan. We walk out of the barracks building, the three of us girls forming a rough triangle around Teo who has a big, obviously heavy, bundle over his shoulder.

We’re not just leaving entirely without planning things though. We left that assassin in Inigo’s bed with the blankets pulled way up. I’m hoping that the assassin’s buddies don’t notice him being missing for a while, but that’s a lot to ask for.

The outpost is a busy place. There are plenty of villagers out and about already. I didn’t notice the night before, but there are a number of sheep pens here. I guess it makes sense that people would farm those in a place this small and secure. A group of guards are doing morning stretches on a lawn to the side, and others are jogging around a small field, working up a sweat.

Ran and a couple of the other Big Hill Lions are preparing the carts already. They’re noticeably lighter, with fewer crates and things loaded on. Hopefully, that’ll make us faster as we head out. “Go wait by the back over there,” Teo says with a nod to the rearmost cart. “Out of sight and out of mind. I’m going to drop this guy off, then talk to Esteban.”

“Understood,” I say.

I’m pretty confident in my own strength, and that of my friends, but I’m not sure if we could ever manage fighting our way out of this entire outpost. Not without a lot of monster friends to help us along the way.

“Val,” Felix says as she walks up next to me. “Look, at the far end over there, near the inn.”

I glance over, trying to be surreptitious about it. There’s a group of priests of Altum by the inn, three of them, just standing next to a barrel of water and chatting. They seem casual and at ease, but I notice that they’re also glancing around fairly frequently, and they’re not moving.

Who just stands around and chats outside while doing nothing? That looks so unproductive. And suspicious. “I see them,” I mutter. “What should we do about them?”

“Nothing, I don’t think,” Bianca says. “We have a lot of suspicions, and maybe a few accusations we can level, but I don’t think losing time here trying to convince the guards and local magistrate that the cult of Altum has gone mad would be entirely productive. And it would mean that we’re no longer moving.”

“Right, we have bigger issues,” I say.

I can’t help but feel like our current quest and Altum’s priests are tied together, somehow.

Esteban and Teo talk by the front of the caravan, then Esteban touches Teo’s shoulder before moving back into the guard barracks. I notice him having a whispered discussion with one of the older, more decorated guards. They both glance across the street to the priests.

Maybe things will take care of themselves here.

Ran calls out to us, and we join him by his carriage. “Plenty more room for you girls to sit today. Come on, hop aboard, and be quick about it.”

“Thanks,” I say as I do just that.

It doesn’t take long before we start moving.

Esteban makes a point of stopping by every member of the caravan as we move out from the area around the barracks. I can’t hear what he says, but it’s hard not to notice the way the Big Hill Lions are all stiff and cautious after he speaks to them. Some of them are more subtle about it, but they’re not exactly a subtle group to begin with.

The outpost has a southern gate, which opens up to let us all through, and just like that, we’re out of the outpost and passing through the tiny village clinging close to its walls. It’s mostly a few little farms and lots of fields splayed out along the edges of the road.

I let out a sigh, some of the tension leaving my shoulders. “Safe,” I say.

“We might be,” Bianca says. “But that outpost isn’t. I have the impression that our adversary has just revealed themselves.”

“You mean Altum?” I ask.

“Or at least his church,” Bianca replies. “The number of them heading towards Vizeda so soon after the city was attacked is worrisome. Especially if they’re making a point of killing guards and assassinating people.”

Esme nods. “They’re obviously the ones responsible for the monster attack on Vizeda.” She has that book out, the journal from the outpost. “This stops having anything a couple of days before we arrived. One of the last notes in it is about a group of wandering priests stopping by the outpost. No mention of who they are, but it’s not hard to guess.” She places the book back down and folds her knees up so that she can hug them. “Are we going to do anything about them?”

“As soon as I have a bit of time, I’ll send Mom a letter,” I say. “We’ve got our own missions though, and they don’t really have much to do with Altum and his cronies.”

“You won’t act against them at all?” Bianca asks.

I consider it for a moment. From her point of view, Altum is a lot of trouble, a lot of trouble that’s starting up close to her home. “I guess that depends,” I say. “Like I said, I think they’re likely involved in the reasons why we’re here.”

“You think they’d dare break into one of Semper’s vaults?” Esme asks.

“It wouldn’t surprise me at all.” What are the chances that we’re dealing with two entire factions both trying to cause trouble at the same time? It’s not impossible, but I do feel like it’s pretty unlikely.

I’m pretty sure that Altum doesn’t care much for Mom. Most of the gods don’t. So using monsters to attack a city would only help his own cause and rally more normal people to the pantheon for protection.

But then... “Altum’s a god of necromancers,” I say. “Why does he want more worshippers?”

“I guess the necromancers are people,” Felix says. “He’s not a god of the undead, right? That’s like... being a god of cooks doesn’t mean that you’re a god of food.”

That makes a strange sort of sense.

I let the idea percolate in the back of my mind as I just enjoy the ride. The forests here are a bit closer to the road, so there’s a light canopy of trees above providing some shade. Not that we need it, the sky is a bit overcast, with only some splotches of blue visible where the clouds are torn open.

“Halt!”

The call isn’t from anyone in our caravan. At least, I don’t think.

I sit up straighter and spin around.

Out ahead of us, blocking the road, are three figures. Two of them are in the robes of priests of Altum, though they also have breastplates on over their flowing gowns. The third guy, who’s standing between the other two, is more worrisome. He’s wearing nothing but sackcloth and bandages, with a hood that covers his entire head. None of his flesh is visible. He’s a huge guy, at least a head and a half taller than Mom, and way wider at the shoulders.

Esteban walks up to the very front of the caravan. He has a hand on his hilt, but hasn’t drawn. I can feel the tension from the others around us.

“Guys,” I mutter. “Might be a good time to start cycling your emotions and cultivating a bit.”

“There’s something on the sides of the road,” Felix says.

I glance around. There are trees along the edges of the road, just past a little ditch. Past those there’s an open field all the way to a forest all around us. Those fields have been left to grow, so the grasses there are about hip-high.

“What do you want, priest of Altum?” Esteban asks. “We have little that someone of your wort would want.”

“Are you so certain of that?” One of the priests asks.

Esteban raises a gauntleted hand and makes a gesture or two. Nothing changes in that moment, but I can feel the tension rising. “Just food for the next outpost, my good man. That’s all we have.”

“You also have bodies,” the priest said. “And that’s more precious than any grain.”

Esteban seems properly cautious. “And what good would those do for you?”

The priests both pull out long, narrow daggers from sheathes by their sides. They look more like skinning knives than knives for fighting. “Our lord Altum always needs more bodies. Either in worship of his greatness, or to fulfil his grand purpose. Surrender, and we will give you peaceberry wine. No pain, just an easy plunge into the service of our lord.”

“Whatberry wine?” Felix asks.

“It’s a poison,” Esme says. “One that’s supposed to taste good, and kills you by making you fall asleep forever.”

“I think we’ll have to pass on the offer,” Esteban says.

“So be it,” the priest replies.

He grins, and the grass around us rustles for just a moment before dozens of figures rise from it. Figures with pale skin and scarred faces, with lifeless eyes and unmoving chests.

“Ah, crud, zombies,” I say.

***