V2Ch64-Moral Line
After the tattoos were complete, Tybalt took all of the freshly marked women, plus Dero, outside and chose two former Beastkings to guard each tattooed woman.
Stanislaw the former High Priest and William the former huntsmaster for Vidalia; Edgard the chthonic mage and Robert - a second huntsmaster - for Mariella; Rickert - another chthonic mage - and Henry, a third huntsmaster, for Victoria.
Edgard was apparently Rickert’s son, while Robert and Henry were both William’s sons.
“Each of you, stand near the woman I’ve assigned you to protect,” the necromancer ordered. The mummies quickly obliged. Then Tybalt went from woman to woman, activating the tattoo on each woman’s shoulder blade to store their new defenders. Stanislaw and William were instantly sucked into the Undead Storage space that Vidalia would carry with her for the rest of her life, and the other undead quickly followed into Mariella and Victoria’s respective tattoos.
“You each know how to perform a mana circulation?” Tybalt confirmed, looking at the twins. He knew Mariella could do much more than that with her mana.
“I do,” Vidalia said.
“Vidalia taught me,” Victoria said, nodding.
“Good. Show me. Push mana into the tattoo, and demonstrate that you can call your protector out.”
Vidalia smiled at Tybalt’s caution and then did as he’d ordered. A small amount of mana jumped from her core into her shoulder in an instant, and her two guardians reappeared. Then she sent them back, just as easily.
“Excellent.” He looked at Victoria expectantly.
She closed her eyes, scrunched her face as if she was concentrating on something she only rarely did, and then Tybalt saw a bit of colorless aura move slowly from her core, up through her collarbone, and partway up her neck before she course-corrected it to the shoulder blade. At last, her defenders materialized.
Victoria let out a long breath and opened her eyes again.
“I’m glad you knew how to do it, but make sure you practice that,” Tybalt said. “It needs to be faster. I could have killed you several times over in the time it took for you to summon the mummies, which would make them very unhelpful as protectors, no matter how strong they are. Even the falling rocks might have been quick enough to crush you in the time it took.”
She frowned but nodded in understanding.
They need another layer of protection, Tybalt thought. Something that responds to danger more quickly than their own reflexes. Even if Vicky gets quick enough that she can do it as soon as she notices the threat, her noticing might be too slow. But I don’t want them to just keep the mummies walking around all the time. That makes it obvious to our enemies exactly what sort of defense they have, though they won’t know the specific skills each one has. But an invisible defender would be ideal here. Maybe a spirit?
The Unholy Forces textbook had suggestions for undead that could linger around an individual invisibly, and almost all of them were spirits of one kind or another. Most of those were non-corporeal entities, but some of them could take physical form, either at will or under special circumstances, and even those that had no physical form usually had some method of attacking enemies.
I’ve never gotten a spirit yet, but random undead selection is a problem the book has a solution to. I just haven’t tried it yet. An Undeath Ritual…
“Tybalt,” said Victoria. “We still have a lot of daylight. You’ve solved our safety issue, for now. What else can we do… to improve our situation?”
The necromancer smiled. I like that she seems to be turning proactive. She wants to actively avoid this sort of incident happening again, and she’s ready to play a supporting role for me. Feels like she’s sort of easing her way into becoming my wife.
“I think that we have to accelerate our plans,” Tybalt said. “Both military and political. The more little miracles we perform, the more indispensable we become, the easier it will be to make me the new Beastking. The position itself should come with more security, because it will give us legitimacy. You and Vidalia could go to the harpy tribe and the ibex tribe and arrange meetings for me with their Councils of Elders. The subject is an urgent matter of security.” The necromancer and Vidalia exchanged a glance, and she gave him a knowing wink. She didn’t seem quite happy, though.
She’s still rattled from the rockslide yesterday, the necromancer assessed. I’ll spend some time with her tonight.
“Take Mariella with you, since you’ll want to keep the mummies hidden,” he added. “There’s safety in numbers, and no one in these mountains would be likely to challenge Mariella openly at this point.” He grimaced. “Don’t go walking down any narrow valleys, though. I don’t want any further accidents like that. These mountains are so much less stable than they seemed… I think the three of you should be safe, but I don’t want to discover I’m wrong by finding your bodies.”
“You don’t want us to arrange a meeting with the fox tribe?” Victoria asked.
Tybalt frowned. “I think they’re probably going to be the… challenging ones. Arrange a meeting with them, but I want it to be last. Also, all three meetings should be private, not open to the public.”
Vidalia nodded in agreement, and Victoria’s face darkened as she seemed to recognize what Tybalt was saying between the lines. That he expected political opposition from within the fox tribe, because he thought one or more of them must be complicit in the assassination attempt.
“We’ll arrange it,” Vidalia said simply. She stepped closer to Tybalt, stood up on her tiptoes, and gave him a surprisingly chaste kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for your loving protection, darling. See you soon.”
A moment later, Victoria stepped forward, cheeks pink. She rose to her tiptoes and copied her twin’s chaste kiss on the opposite cheek.
“I, um, I also appreciate your kindness, Tybalt,” she said.
Whoa. She kissed me in public. Not on the lips, but still… that seems like a big deal for her.
“I’ll hopefully have something special for you when the two of you return,” the necromancer said after a moment. “Go with Lord Mudo’s protection.”
Victoria bowed her head slightly and stepped back, refusing to meet his gaze. That little display of affection seemed to have consumed all her courage for the moment.
Mariella closed in and pressed her mouth against Tybalt’s. Both of them parted their lips, and the fire mage gave him a long, passionate kiss that made the attention from the foxgirls feel even more innocent by comparison.
“I’ll bring your other future wives home safely, don’t worry,” she said, smiling and looking steadily into his eyes.
He nodded, returned the smile, and looked at the foxgirls one last time. Then all three women moved out, walking down the mountainside path in the opposite direction from the fox tribe’s village. The last Tybalt saw of them was the mummies vanishing into Victoria’s storage space once again.
That was when the dark elf still with him spoke up.
“And what will we be doing, Lord Necromancer?” asked Dero. “Entertain me!”
“Performing a ritual involving human sacrifice,” he replied, a slight edge to his voice. “Just fun stuff. I have to keep you entertained, after all.”
He sent a silent order to two more of the dozen Beastkings - he now controlled all twelve of them - telling those two to stay here and guard both Kistana and the children he and Mariella had been asked to foster. The ten surviving kids were playing quietly outside, resilient despite the loss of two of their number but still rather somber. They had never ended up being taken back with Eldest Isak after the chaos and danger of the rockslide, and now a number of Tybalt’s undead were working on a second hut near his own, to accommodate all of the children. They were supposed to be in his and Mariella’s custody anyway, so this was just a practical necessity.
The necromancer began walking uphill, sending silent orders to his undead, conveying diagrams and which specific dead bodies he wanted to use in the upcoming rituals.
Dero followed, watching him quietly with a curious expression. She had said she wanted to be entertained. Hopefully she was in the mood to see dark ritual magic performed.
It was a long walk, but neither the human nor the elf said much.
When they got up to the height where the miners were being kept prisoner, Tybalt winced at the first sight of them. The men were tied to trees, and they didn’t look emaciated as if they were starving, but he could tell immediately that they had not been particularly carefully treated. At that elevation, the air was too cold to be comfortable for average humans. Several men had what appeared to be the beginnings of frostbite on their hands, and a few of them who had been forced to walk from the mining outpost in just their socks probably had it on their feet too.
The miners had defeated, broken looks in their eyes, as if they had no hope left - which was accurate to their situation.
It doesn’t matter, the necromancer reminded himself. Except insofar as it makes them worse subjects for experiments. Remember that you always intended to kill them. You were just waiting for the right moment, the right reason, the right plan. Now their souls will fuel your ritual.
He moved forward and stopped glancing at the miners as he passed them.
“You really are cold to your own kind,” the dark elf remarked, seeing how his expression had turned indifferent. “I didn’t think you’d be so… icy.”
The wind whipped up as she spoke, as if to emphasize the dark humor in her words.
“These people attacked the fox tribe’s village, full of innocent people, for no other reason than because it disgusts them to have beastfolk for neighbors,” Tybalt replied in a low voice. He spat on the ground between himself and the nearest miner. “They’re not kindred to me in any way. They deserve what’s coming, if anyone does.”
One of the miners looked up at Tybalt with hollow eyes, lips opening as if he wished to make some defense of his group’s actions. He froze as he met Tybalt’s harsh stare. Then his mouth closed again.
“Even if they do,” Dero said slowly from Tybalt’s side, “you and I both know ‘deserve’ has nothing to do with it. You’re going to use them, because they’re here, and because you can. You might as well admit it.”
Tybalt said nothing back as they advanced through a copse of trees and arrived at a patch of flat earth where the undead were arranging everything according to his specifications, carving grooves into the ground that perfectly matched the images the necromancer had sent them.
That was the great thing about the non-free-willed undead. They were precise enough for most jobs Tybalt could assign them, and they didn’t question orders… or try to make the necromancer feel as if he was crossing some sort of moral line.